#and am now also angry that I can't go back in time and make them listen to it and see if it would make them understand

[zepskies]

Oooh yay!! That makes me so happy lol. Since you've read the story all the way through now, I wonder if your favorite chapter has changed? 💜❤️

Fucking felt!!! My mom and I recently went to St. Louis and we took so many wrong turns despite the GPS. They really need to make those easier to follow.

Omg it's so hard sometimes!! Especially in complicated cities where the wrong turn could literally cost you the day. 🫠

This part. This made me so sad and angry. While I know Ben probably didn't see any real action in the war, I still dont blame him for not wanting to help. On an adjacent, a more modern example could be the way that the government treats veterans. Like these men and women went through hell and you just treat them like shit when they get back? Its fucked.

Yeah honestly Ben was an asshole/murder and deserved to be put in check, but did he really deserve 40 years of that kind of torture? The government clearly didn't give a shit either.

And yes, the way veterans are treated in this country is at times inhumane, especially when they need medical treatment/mental health treatment. It's disgusting.

The entirety of Ben getting to meet the readers family was fucking hilarious. I have never brought somebody home to my family (never had a partner, period), but if I ever do, I feel like they would react in a similar way. We are super close knit, and while I am not of the readers ethnicity, we cook a lot of traditional Irish and German foods when we do family dinners with my grandparents and my aunt and uncle so I can totally relate to that part.

Hahaaa this was the "rom-com" part of the show. 😆 You know I also relate to not having a partner, but yeah this is how I imagine my family would react - with aaaaall the questions. 😂 I love that your family cooks traditional foods from your heritages! (Side note: I have a German bakery close to me that I go to all the time. They have such amazing baked goods - and bacon 🤤)

Oh. My. God. I fucking love her!!!!

Sofia's a real one lmaooo

AWWWWWWWWWW!!!!! Thats all I have to say. That entire scene of him kissing her goodbye!?!? Fucking heartbreak!

She's starting to realize that she's going to be sad when he's (finally) gone loll. And Ben's also realizing that she's a little harder to let go of than he initially thought. 😜❤️‍🔥

AAHHH! He stayed!!!!!!!

Like a barnacle 😅

Yuuup. I go grocery shopping for my family when I'm home from college so that I can cook for them and holy shit is it expensive.

Fucking FACTS. I can't even look at my grocery bills anymore. It's too depressing 😭

I love the scene of Ben playing dominoes with the older men outside the Cuban bakery. You truly do bring "life" into the characters. I was recently talking with someone who commented on my Solider Boy fic for your 5k celebration and it really is wonderful to see Ben in a light that isnt just about his sexual conquests and you are one of my favorites to go to for that (among other reasons why you are my favorite fic writer ;))

For this I just had this vision in my head of reader taking Ben to Calle Ocho (8th Street, a very well-known street/area in Miami). There's this spot called Domino Park where all the old Cuban men gather and play, and I just loved the idea of Ben getting to hang out with a group of his peers and be his old man self with them, smoking, gambling, eating, talking shit. 🤣🤣

I saw that comment on your fic, and it's so deserved btw. I get why people are feral over SB, don't get me wrong, but I more so enjoy stories that explore who he is as a character in a realistic way. Not just his sexual plowing lmao, but his flaws and his potential human/vulnerable moments too. 💚💚

(And omg wow, I'm so happy to be your favorite!!! 🥹💞)

UNRAVEL ME - Part 4

Pairing: Soldier Boy (Ben) x Afro-Latina!Reader

Summary: In the wake of Vought Tower finally falling, you find yourself crossing paths with Soldier Boy. Rogue, weakened, dangerous, and hunted, he needs a place to hide. You’re not about to offer up your own home to shelter a supe wanted by Homelander and the CIA…but he’s also not going to let you refuse.

AN: Here we go! Another big step in their adventure...

Song Inspo: “Mi Muchachita” by Luis Segura (English lyrics)

Word Count: 8.8K

Tags/Warnings: Fake dating (lol), meet the family, some old-school machismo, Dominican food, bachata, “North Cuba” (Miami), angst, rom-com vibes

💜 Series Masterlist

❤️ YouTube Playlist || Spotify Playlist

Part 4: Food & Family

After driving through the loops of highway along I-95, Ben grows frustrated at the thirty or so signs of exits that lead to different parts of the city. One wrong turn, and it could send you miles away from where you were—even over the bridge to Miami Beach.

You consult the GPS on your iPad, since your new “burner” phone is just an old-style flip phone. 

You’re able to point him where to go to get to the airport. He finally takes the right exit, but he pulls off the highway split, off the main road, and heads into the alley of a side street.

“What are you doing?” you ask.

He doesn’t answer you, just pulls to a stop and shifts the car into park.

“It’s been fun, sweetheart, but I think it’s time we part ways here. I’ve got a couple errands to run before I get the fuck out of here,” he says.

You consider him shrewdly. “Errands? What the hell do you mean? How’re you gonna even get a plane ticket? You don’t have any money…”

And it dawns on you. You suck in a breath, then you glare at him.

“What’re you going to do, Ben?”

“That’s my fucking business, all right?”

“What’re you gonna do, knock over a bank? Kill a few people on your way out?”

“Don’t ask questions you don’t want the answer to, sweetheart,” he says. He looks at the darkening alley ahead rather than at you. He’s keeping an eye out for anyone that might spot you two in the car, until you lean over and lay a hand on his forearm.

“Ben,” you say. “Look, I’ll pay for your ticket.”

His brows crunch together. “I don’t want your fucking money, all right?”

You hesitate. Now that’s a first. But you still take your hand back to start digging into your purse for your wallet. He reaches out and stops you with a big, warm hand over yours. Firm.

“You hear what I fucking said?” he snaps.

You just sigh. “Ben, breaking into a bank—”

“Doesn’t have to be a fucking bank.”

“All right, a store! Either way, that might raise a few alarms, don’t you think?”

“I’ll figure it out,” Ben says. His gaze cuts away from you and toward the city behind you both.

Suddenly, it hits you. This is it. No more of this asshole being a human crater exploding into your life. 

But it’s also kind of hard to imagine him getting on that plane alone, fucking off to obscurity again. You bite your lip while considering him. It feels like a waste.

“What if…what if you stay and fight?” you say. “Fight off Homelander. Expose him for the piece of shit he is.”

Ben’s steely expression just hardens further. “I’m done talking about that frosted hole. Whatever formula they mixed him with in that fucking lab, it didn’t come out of my ball sack.” 

You roll your eyes. God, he’s so gross. “Ben. For God’s sake. Don’t deflect—”

“You do realize I have the FBI, the CIA, and the whole rest of the alphabet soup on my ass, right?” he says. Finally, he looks at you. “They don’t want me here. They didn’t even try to find me when the fucking Commies… So no. Fuck ‘em. I’ll make new somewhere else.”

It’s truly incredible, considering how damn angry you were at him yesterday. Angry and afraid.

Now, you begin to feel a twinge of…concern. Yes, he’s arrogant and vulgar, selfish, and more than a bit of a dick at times. He’s killed people, whether on accident or on purpose, even if it was partially for your sake. But after last night, getting just a glimpse of what he went through, you wonder if he really deserves to be run out of the country. 

I may regret this, but…

“Listen,” you begin. “It’s getting late. Do you want to have dinner with me and my family? You’ll get some good food, one more night States’ side.”

Ben looks just as surprised by your offer as you are to suggest it. His lips begin to quirk upward, albeit incredulously.

“You offering to be my tour guide?” he asks.

You give him a knowing look. “Let’s not get ahead of ourselves. It’s just dinner. Nothing else.”

You raise a finger, gesturing at him to hold on a second, and you grab your phone to call your mom first. She’s easier to talk to than your father, who would probably bombard you with questions about the trip and why it was taking you so long to get home.

“Hello?” your mom answers.

“Hey, it’s me,” you reply.

“Why are you calling from this weird number? Did something happen to your phone? Is that why you haven’t been answering our calls?”

“Yeah, sorry, I lost my phone and had to get a replacement,” you lie on the fly. You’ve had to get good at it over the past week. “I made it to Miami though. I’m almost home.”

“Oh, that’s great! Meet at Mamá’s house though. We’re making dinner right now,” she says.

You smile. Looks like Ben is going to get to meet your grandma too. “Really? Oh, okay. We’ll meet you there then.”

“We? Who’s we?”

“Oh, I’m uh…bringing a friend,” you say, though your face begins to heat in a blush at the way Ben smirks at you.

“A friend, huh?” your mom asks, in a suspicious tone.

“Yeah, okay see you soon!” You hang up the phone before she can ask you any more questions. Sometimes she can be as bad as your dad. You shift your attention to Ben.

“Okay, let’s switch seats. I think it’ll be easier if I drive,” you say.

He raises a skeptical brow at you. “Where are we going?”

You offer him a smile. “Oh, just wait. You’re in for a good time.”

Homelander’s angry strides are heavy and unmistakable. Vought employees veer out of his way and give him a wide berth, keeping their heads down all the while. His heated steps bring him to the Surveillance team, where The Deep has been at the helm for the past couple of months.

And what the fuck does he have to show for it? He’s sipping a soda while flirting with one of the glorified interns trying to sort through the classified files on her screen. Deep perks up when he notices Homelander barging into the room.

“Oh! Hey, sir—”

“Where the fuck is my son?” Homelander snaps.

Ever since the incident last week, Ryan has been ducking out of his room more than usual. Despite him choosing the right side, Homelander’s side, Ryan hasn’t been working with the production team on his superhero image.

Nothing useful has come in about Soldier Boy, and now Butcher has disappeared from their sight as well. Though that one doesn’t matter so much. Homelander will be happy to see that bastard die of the cancer already eating his brain. There’s probably nothing Homelander could do that would be more fucking hilarious than that.

“Uhh, not sure, sir. But we do have something new on the Soldier Boy front,” Deep says. He cues a finger at the girl, Ashley or Annika or whatever the fuck her name is.

She presses a play button on her computer screen, and Homelander bends at the waist to scrutinize the footage. It captures an alleyway between the main building of Vought Tower and the garage.

“This is the day of the, um, the incident,” she adds.

Soldier Boy exits the building, stumbling out really. He eventually crosses paths with a young woman. To Homelander, she almost seems familiar.

Soldier Boy grabs her arm, says something to her that makes her eyes widen with fear, then drags her toward him so he can cover her mouth with his hand. They wait there against the wall for almost thirty seconds. Then, he pulls her into the garage with him.

“Who the fuck is that?” Homelander asks.

Allie chimes in. “Ah, she was a Vought employee, sir. She recently quit without prior notice.”

“See, we had Webweaver on this, but the police just found his body in Lake Marion, South Carolina,” Deep says. 

A slow smile spreads across Homelander’s face. “Fucking finally.”

“Uhh, what?” Deep says.

It’s a lead, Homelander thinks. A trail. One step closer to hunting down dear old Dad. 

Emphasis on fucking old.

Your grandmother lives south, west, and more west, almost right on the edge of the Everglades—a 1.5-million-acre wetlands protected by the state. When tourists and natives alike end up on the news for getting their limbs bit off by alligators or left half-dead by a cottonmouth snake, it’s usually because they were stupid enough to hike through the mangroves and jump into the swampy waters alone.

You pull up in front of your grandma’s house and park in the paved driveway. It’s a modest three-bedroom, Spanish-style home that your dad grew up in with his two brothers, your Uncle Felix and Uncle Luis. They re-painted the outer walls the color of a soft sunset in golden orange, the roof tiles a darker terracotta. A rod iron gate around the property meets at the front with a small arch Ben will later have to duck his head under.

You can already smell freshly cut grass as the sprinklers run in the front yard, but for the moment, you stay in the car to figure out the game plan.

“So,” Ben says, “what role am I playing for tonight, sweetheart? Your work friend, or your boyfriend? Both have their pros and cons, and potential benefits.”

His grin is far too cocksure not to irritate you on sight. You’re already regretting this lapse in your sanity that led you to try being nice to this asshole.

You also realize that you haven’t exactly thought this through. What if they recognize him from the news? 

…Well, your parents don’t like social media and your grandmother barely even knows how to text, let alone what Instagram is. 

“Let’s just play it by ear,” you say, resisting a sigh. “But for now…God, fine, you’re my boyfriend.”

“Okay,” he gamely nods. “How long’ve we been dating?”

“Long enough for me to bring you to see my parents, so let’s say a few months,” you say. Then, you grab his wrist. “Please, try to tone down the cursing and general pussy talk around my family. They’re Catholic and…conservative.”

Again, his lips twitch upward in a way you don’t really like.

“Sure,” he says, “I can turn on the charm.”

He turns his wrist under your grasp to bring your hand up to his lips. 

“Don’t worry,” he says. “I can be very convincing.” 

A warm blush spreads across your cheeks, prickling down your neck.

Shit. You’re already regretting this. 

After slipping your hand from his grasp so you can look yourself over in the little car mirror, you get out of the car first. Ben follows your lead and walks up to the front door with you. 

You look over at him with a more critical eye, humming to yourself. You try to fix his wrinkled shirt, straighten his collar. Ben watches you do it with an amused gleam in his eyes. 

“My mom is the queen of snap judgments,” you explain. “One damn smudge or wrinkle and she’s gonna think you don’t bathe.”

You lean up and sort your fingers through his hair a little, sweeping the strands away from his brow. You have to ignore the way he’s watching you. 

When you turn and knock on the door, Ben settles a hand on the small of your back. You shoot him a raised brow. He winks at you. You don’t have time to comment or even push his hand away, because that’s when the door opens.

You greet your dad with a wide smile to cover up your nerves. Out of anyone that could’ve opened the door, why did it have to be him? He kisses your cheek when you lean in to hug him, but he eyes the man beside you with a note of appraisal. 

“Who’s this?” he asks. 

“Dad, this is Ben,” you say, choking out the second bit, “my boyfriend.” 

“Sir,” Ben greets. He offers the man a firm handshake. 

“Victor,” your dad replies, though he shoots you a look. “You didn’t tell us you had a boyfriend.”

“Is that her?” your mom says. She comes out to greet you and Ben, taking in his tall, handsome form with a pleased scrutiny. “My goodness, this is your friend, huh?” She gives you a teasing wink. “I didn’t buy that one for a minute, but it has been a long time since you’ve brought a man home.”

Ben’s smile takes on an amused glint when he casts you some side-eye. 

“It’s kinda new,” you confess, trying to ignore the hot blush in your cheeks. Your mom is already having way too much fun with this, but she immediately levels up her own brand of Cuban Mom Charm, taking Ben into the house by his arm. 

“Well, it’s nice to meet you, Ben. I’m Gloria. This is my husband Victor,” she says, gesturing at your dad, who stands stoically behind her. Ben gives him another nod, then hits your mom with a kind of suavecito that would put James Bond to shame. 

“Now I know who to thank for giving my girl her beautiful smile. We’ve got Miss Florida herself right here,” Ben flirts, squeezing her hand on his arm.

Gloria twitters a laugh, making you bite your lip against a snort. 

She leads him further into your grandmother’s house, while you and Victor follow behind. Ben takes note of all the pictures on the walls and housed in various frames on virtually every shelf and accent table: your parents’ wedding, your father and your uncles when they were young, and you at various ages—kindergarten through your high school graduation, followed by your college graduation. 

There are pictures of you with your parents, your ten first cousins and thirty second cousins, your aunts and uncles, and you with your grandmother—the woman who’s currently cooking up something that smells delicious in the kitchen. Garlic and onions and olive oil; the smells mingle together with the red and green bell peppers being sautéed in a pan with some kind of red sauce. 

Your grandma Sofia takes in Ben from head to toe with wide-eyed, blinking surprise, even a bit of wonder. She glances at you, at Ben’s hand once again resting on the small of your back. Slowly, she brightens.

“Ay, Diosito mio, who’s this handsome man in my house?” she says.

Ben smiles, but you step in before he can flirt with her too. 

“Mamá, this is Ben. Uh, my boyfriend,” you tell her while giving her a big, warm hug. You try to blink past the tears stinging your eyes. You’ve probably missed your grandma the most. 

She squeezes you tight, but she also smacks you on the ass. 

“Hey!” you protest, laughing in embarrassment.

“Oye, you couldn’t call to tell us you finally got another man?” she chides. “How long has this one being going on?”

“Um, a few months—”

The old woman gasps, as if you told her that her recorded episodes of Caso Cerrado, the Latino version of Judge Judy, had been erased. Taking another look at a highly amused Ben, she crosses herself and delivers a kiss to the heavens. 

“Ay, Padre Santísimo. Finally, a man who doesn’t dress como un niño malcreado—like Justin Bieber.”

Your mouth falls open in shock. Your mother snickers, while Ben chuckles deeply. He doesn’t know who the fuck Justin Bieber is, but he knows about at least one of the pussy man-boys you’ve dated in the past. He slides you a knowing smirk.

“No, ma’am. She’s got a real man now,” he adds.

You blow out a subtle breath, trying with all your might not to glare at him. You do shoot him a tight smile, a warning in your eyes.

But he just trails a strong hand across the small of your back. The sensation makes tingles travel down your spine. 

You bite your lip and return your attention to your mom, who grabs some cheese and salami for you and Ben to snack on. You sit with him at the kitchen island and help your grandmother peel potatoes for the meal. By now Victor has claimed his usual spot on the couch, no doubt to catch up on one of the ten new baseball games he always has recorded. If there’s one thing your dad is obsessed with, it’s baseball. 

Ben lingers with you though, casually resting a hand on the back of your chair while he leans back in his seat at the island. 

“What’s on the menu?” Ben asks. 

“Carne guisada, white rice, and tostones. Eh, fried plantains,” Sofia replies. “Have you ever had Dominican food before?”

“No, but it smells delicious.”

“Ay, mija, have you not been feeding him?” your grandma reproaches, to your long-suffering sigh. 

If she only fucking knew.

Your mom watches in amusement while taking over stirring the stew. Meanwhile, Sofia rounds the kitchen island so she can tug you down by your arm.

“What have I taught you, huh?” she whispers. “A man well-fed will stay in your bed.” 

Mortification burns hot in your cheeks. Your hand comes up to half cover your face. 

“Ay, Mamá,” you hiss. Inside, you’re dying a thousand deaths. 

You glance at Ben over your shoulder. He sips at his beer, but by the way he’s smirking, of fucking course he heard her. 

“You call her ‘mom’ too?” he asks.

“Yes, they all call me that because I am everyone’s mother here,” Sofia says. She wipes her hand free of parsley bits and pats Ben’s hand where it rests on the counter. “But you, young man, can call me Sofia.”

“Mamá!”

Ben eats dinner with gusto. Your grandmother is satisfied and pleased by how much he’s clearly enjoying the braised beef stew. She even loads him up with his third serving. You watch him in amusement, even though you shake your head.

He’s stuffing his face as if he’s never eaten real food before. Though you wonder when the last time he had a real home-cooked meal was…before you met him, that is.

Ben and Victor talk about baseball and the classic players they admire (with Ben having actually met a few of them). While the men are distracted with their conversation at the far end of the table, you have to endure your mother and grandmother’s grilling. 

Where is he from?

What does he do? 

How old is he? 

Spring weddings are just beautiful in Miami, you know. Your cousin Julissa had a spring wedding by the beach. Wasn’t it nice?

Needless to say, you should be winning an Oscar for your own improv performance tonight.  

“Where are you guys staying tonight?” Gloria asks.

Your grandma looks affronted. “Well, here of course.”

You laugh a bit nervously. “Actually, Ben can’t stay. He, um…he has a plane to catch in the morning, for a business trip.”

“Oh, what kind of business? You said he works at Vought too,” Gloria asks.

You nod, though you have to think quickly to come up with something plausible. You glance over at Ben, who briefly meets your gaze. The look in his eyes tells you that he’s caught the edges of your conversation and wants to know what you’ll say as well.

“Uh, Ben is in Vought’s Sales Division,” you say. “Sometimes they have him travel overseas.” 

“Oh, wow. Where are you going, Ben?” Gloria asks him.

“Buenos Aires,” Ben replies. “Vought’s trying to develop another Voughtland down there. They’ve been trying for years, but the locals figure they’ve got enough entertainment, what with the tourist traps and the drug cartels and all. So they’ve brought me on to seal the deal. Think of me as a…well, as a closer. ‘S why they pay me the big bucks.” 

You resist the urge to shake your head, but you do squeeze his thigh in warning under the table. He gives you a smile and a raise of his brows. Eying him pointedly, you shift the conversation. 

“So he’s planning on staying at the airport tonight, since it’s such an early flight,” you say. 

Sofia shakes her head, as well as a finger in the air. 

“No, no. You are a guest in my home, so you will stay here tonight. I won’t take no for an answer,” she says. 

Ben gives you a self-satisfied smile, before he answers her.

“Well, who am I to say no?”

It seems strategic, the way your mom corners Ben in the kitchen to try and fish more information out of him. Meanwhile, your dad pulls you aside into the living room.

“So tell me. What’s going on with that job of yours?” he asks. His brows have that telltale furrow of concentrated Dad Worry. On Victor, it looks just shy of being angry.

You cross your arms, debating with yourself for a moment. You’ve been lying a lot tonight, but this is something you know you have to come clean about, even if you know it’s a victory for your father.

“I quit, okay,” you admit.

His shoulders loosen in relief. His gaze raises heavenward while his hands rest on his hips.

“Thank God,” he says. But then, he concentrates back on you. “This mean you’re finally moving back home?”

“I didn’t say that,” you snap. “I’m gonna stay here with Mamá for a little while until I figure out what I’m gonna do. But I’m going to find something in New York. I have time now. Maybe I can finally start my own graphic design business.”

For the past year that you hadn’t been able to find other work to leave Vought, you’d begun to spin the idea in your mind. You have friends in the Marketing department who could help you build a website, run some ads across socials. You know how to create your own content, do your own marketing, even reach out to potential clients. All you need at this point is some time and money. You have one, and you can use some of what you have in savings to invest in the idea—to build something of your own. Something honest.

Victor’s jaw clenches. He swipes a hand of frustration over his face, his gait shifting with the effort of keeping his anger contained in his mother’s house.

“Why do you always have to be so damn stubborn?” he grits out.

“Why’re you always trying to control my life?” you counter, just at hotly. “I’m not a little girl. I’ve been doing what I have to do on my own—”

“But that’s it. You don’t have to,” he says. “You wanna get blown up in one of those buildings? Or run through in the street by one of those fucking supes, like that girl two years ago? You’re smart, mija. Use that brain for something besides selfish little ideas that don’t go anywhere.”

Your mouth falls open, but nothing else escapes. Your heart is in your throat, a painful lump as tears cling to your lashes.

“You went to NYU because the schools here somehow weren’t good enough. Now you’re in debt,” he continues, raising his hand up to his brows. “Hasta los ojitos. ¿Verdad? You tried to make it in that city because you wanted to be an artist. And where did you end up? At a corrupt fucking company that worked you like a dog, and nearly got you buried under a pile of rubble like it was 9/11 all over again.”

His words cut into you like so many knives. A familiar well of acid had been churning in your stomach; now it reaches up into the base of your throat where you’re already choked by embarrassment, resentment, shame.

“Okay, dessert!” your mom calls from the kitchen, this time unaware of her husband. She brings out the large pan of flan she made last night and sets it on the table while Ben begrudgingly brings out the smaller plates and spoons. The smell of Café Bustelo reaches you as the cafetera begins to steam and boil on the stove. Sofia lifts the top of it and nods when she finds that the espresso is done percolating.

“Quién quiere café?” she asks.

Heaving a sigh through his nose, Victor raises a finger. Ben notices you, sees whatever he sees in your face, no matter how you try to bury it down. You can tell that he��s heard every word, just by that look on his face. Ben approaches you and your dad, once again sliding a hand across the small of your back, but you speak before he has a chance to say anything.

“You want coffee, right?”

Ben nods slightly, letting you leave him to escape into the kitchen. He shifts his attention to your father. The man is shorter than Ben, but still a presence that commands respect in the house.

“You still work for Vought after everything that’s happened?” Victor asks him.

Ben’s brow turns wry. “Oh, I’ve got an exit strategy.”

Victor nods. That seems to mollify him a bit, even as he watches his daughter. Ruefulness enters his gaze, even if it’s still hard with his convictions. It just reminds Ben of his father’s blue-eyed stare—the kind that always pierced straight through his skin and saw every scrap of weakness underneath.

“She’d rather live in that fucking cesspool than listen to me,” Victor says. “Young, stubborn, thinks she knows it all.”

Ben’s lips tug at a smile. Yeah, that’s fucking you.

“She thinks she can handle it out there by herself, but take away all that attitude, and what?” Victor shakes his head. “She’s fucking soft.”

Ben glances over at him, then at the silver medals framed in glass on the wall. There’s a picture of a younger version of the man in front him, leaner, just as stoic, wearing an army green uniform and a captain’s insignia. If Victor looked to be in his mid-fifties now, that would’ve put him in his early 20s during the Vietnam War.

Other than a few photo ops after the Tet Offensive and a movie he did in the late ‘60s, Ben spent most of his time snorting coke and fucking the female cast of Bewitched. (Elizabeth Montgomery blamed her failed marriage on him, but that shit was wrecked long before he came into her picture. Literally.)

Ben’s gaze drifts away from the shiny wall of accomplishment, and back over to you across the room. You’re helping your mom set out the plates of flan after she cuts each slice. He sees how hard you try to bury everything you have boiling inside behind the task, swiping a stray curl out of your eyes as you go. He’s come to recognize that look, and the things you do to keep moving forward.

“She can be,” Ben nods at your father. “But maybe she’s stronger than you think.”

Victor’s brows furrow, but Ben doesn’t stick around for more. He joins you back at the dinner table and takes a small white espresso cup you offer him. Your fingers brush with his on the pass, but its his hand casually curling wily strands of your hair behind your ear that earns your attention, your slightly widening eyes.

He smirks down at you before taking a seat. Despite yourself, your lips tug at a smile, and you join him.

After dessert, your parents finally head back home. You finally allow yourself to confess to your grandmother that you quit your job. It’s easier to be honest with her than with your parents sometimes.

She’s sorry to hear the news, knowing you enjoyed your independence in New York. While you didn’t necessarily love your job, up until now it had allowed you to have the life you wanted.  

Since she has more room to spare in her house, she’s graciously agreed to have you stay with her for a little while. You know what you told your dad, but you wonder if you can even go back to New York after this. He might just win after all.

But of course, there’s also Ben.

“I still don’t know what the big fucking deal is,” he says, somewhat grumpily. 

You sigh and shove an extra blanket into his hands from the hallway closet. 

“Look, my grandma is fun, even a little mischievous, but she’s not actually going to let me share a bedroom with my ‘boyfriend’ under her roof. Conservative Catholics, remember?” 

You also hand him a towel to take a shower. “Besides, it’s not like I’d let you into my bed anyway. Can you please just remember our deal?” 

He nods, albeit reluctantly. “Don’t you fucking worry. I’ll be out in the morning before God and everyone wakes up.” 

You hesitate, leaning your back against the doorway to your room. Ben will be staying in the second guest room down the hall.

“Well, you can still knock on my door before you leave,” you say, with a slight smile. “You know, if you wanna say goodbye.”

Ben eyes you, a smirk pulling at the corners of his lips.

“Might as well get that outta the way now,” he says.

Your smile fades in confusion, but before you can react, he slips an arm around your waist and guides you in close. After a beat to gauge the look on your face—surprised, but not angry, by the way your eyes roam his face—he bows his head to claim your lips.

It’s a thorough kiss, and a little demanding as his lips move over yours, but it makes a tendril of heat lick down your spine as your fingers curl around his biceps. 

You find yourself at a loss when he breaks away. His eyes open to meet yours, smiling when he finds you breathless.

“Goodbye, sweetheart,” he says.

And he lets you go, allowing your hair to slip through his fingers. 

You’re tempted to smack that self-satisfied look off his face, but you shake your head with a smile. You guess you can give him one for the road. 

Butcher, Hughie, and the rest of the boys are tearing apart Webweaver’s disgusting apartment. Considering the supe’s phone is dead, and he hasn’t been seen in over 24 hours, Butcher is willing to bet that Soldier Boy killed the little prick. 

Unfortunately for Butcher, Webweaver was feeding him information. 

“There’s nothing here,” M.M. says in disgust, wiping his hands of a sticky substance. He’d rather not know what it is.

“He had to know something in order to pick up the cunt’s trail,” Butcher says. He points to Webweaver’s laptop, where Hughie is trying to hack the password.

Butcher’s phone buzzes in his pocket. Fishing it out and peering at the ID, he smiles slightly at the text. 

I’m close to your apartment. Can we talk?

Ryan. Finally, the kid is coming around. Butcher types out a reply.

Give me half an hour. 

Butcher considers his next words carefully, and he adds…

There are things we needa talk about.

There was too much shit he hadn’t told the kid, for fear of pushing him away. (Already done.)

Or fearing the kid wouldn’t believe him. (Ain’t got nothing left to lose now.)

Butcher only half suppresses a wheezing cough.

Oh, yeah, he’s still fucking dying. But if there’s one thing he’s going to do, it’s find Soldier Boy, so he can make good on their deal on snuffing Homelander.

He knows he’ll have to be even more creative with how he gets the supe to agree, seeing as Butcher double-crossed him once before. But this time, he has M.M. and Annie actually on board with the plan. Homelander plans to get V24 in the military with Victoria Neuman’s help.

So all the fucking Spice Girls finally agree: right now, Homelander’s the bigger threat. Then, they’ll somehow deal with Soldier Boy.

Or better yet, the two will kill each other. 

“Got it!” Hughie fist pumps the air. He’s been able to crack into Webweaver’s laptop, even though he balks at having to sort through a tremendous amount of disturbing pornography.

He finally finds a file labeled: Parking Lot, June 3, 5:34 p.m.

He presses play. The first thing he sees is your scared face come into frame, followed by Soldier Boy. 

​​“Oh my God,” you breathe. “Soldier Boy?” He glances up at you through furrowed brows. He looks ragged and soot-stained, his breathing labored as he leans against the wall. He focuses on you. “Uh, a-are you okay?” you ask shakily, clutching your messenger bag.

“All right,” Butcher drawls. “Who the fuck is that?” 

In the morning, you wake to the sun in your eyes through the windows. You get up and check the room across the hall. The door is open, and the bed is made, clear of Ben’s things. You feel disappointed that he didn’t wake you up before he left.

I guess the one goodbye was good enough for him, you think, not willing to wonder why that kind of upsets you. 

Whatever. It’s for the best. Soldier Boy is finally out of your life, and you can focus on what you need to do to pick up the threads of your life.

With that decision made, you go about starting your day. You don’t bother to change out of your pajamas. You just fluff out your curls and venture out to the kitchen, where the smell of Cuban coffee once again wafts stronger in the air. Your grandma might be Dominican, but she’s embraced her daughter-in-law’s Cuban-centric community with the little things, like espresso and pastries in the morning.

There you find something unexpected. You find Ben sipping coffee, chatting with your grandmother at the kitchen island while she makes breakfast. Her favorite radio station plays on the counter and masks the contents of their conversation, but they’re smiling and laughing, having a good ol’ fucking time.

Until Ben notices you standing there with your mouth hanging open. He grins.

“Morning, sweetheart,” he says, taking another sip of his coffee. Sofia smiles over at you too.

“Ben,” you say. Your voice strikes a higher pitch than usual. “What happened to your flight?”

“It got cancelled,” he claims, though he beckons you over. You remember then that this little play is still going on—meaning you force yourself to smile and go to him as if you’re so very happy to see him.

Why the hell did I ever think this was a good fucking idea?!

He takes full advantage of the boyfriend charade, laying a heavy hand on the small of your back. It travels around your waist and comes to rest on your hip. He brushes his thumb back and forth over the thin fabric of your pajama top, and even has the gall to eye you with a grin, likely noticing that you aren’t wearing a bra.

“I invited him to stay for a couple more days, get to know the family,” Sofia says while stirring some scrambled eggs. Bacon is also sizzling on another pan on the stove.

While her back is turned, you shoot Ben a knowing glare.

To think you were a little disappointed about being rid of him. Now, you’re just angry and irritated as good sense hits you upside the head. The longer he stays with you, the better chance of Homelander or the government finding him. 

You’re quiet throughout breakfast while Sofia asks Ben more questions about himself.

“Do you go to church?” she asks, with a raised brow.

You snort into your coffee, but Ben just rubs the back of his neck. 

“I’ll admit, I’ve skipped a few Sundays,” he says, somewhat dismissively.

You resist the urge to roll your eyes. His skin would probably burn if he took one step inside of a sanctuary. 

“Well, what about kids. Do you like children?” Sofia asks.

Your eyes widen. “Mamá, seriously?”

“I always thought I’d have a few,” Ben replies. You turn to look at him, and the sincerity of his tone and the sudden thoughtful gleam in his eyes surprises you even more.

“Guess I’ve been waiting for the right time to settle down,” he says, glancing at you. It’s hard for you to read that look, but it makes you wonder what the fuck he’s thinking.

He goes back to eating.

After breakfast, you get up to help Sofia clear the table. While she’s putting the pastries away, you grab Ben’s arm and lead him closer to the living room. 

“You really need to go,” you whisper-hiss. “You promised me—”

He rolls his eyes. “All right, keep your fucking panties on. Just one more night of R&R and I’ll get gone.”

“You better be for real, because I can’t—”

“Ay, mi canción,” Sofia says. She comes over and tugs on your hand. “You remember this one, right?”

The song that plays on the radio is “Mi Muchachita” by Luis Segura, the song your mom would always wake you up with on Saturday mornings to get you up to help her clean the house. It was a tradition your grandma started when your dad and his brothers were kids. She later got your mom hooked on it when she came to stay with your family for a few years, shortly after you were born. Gloria had needed the help, and her parents had already passed away a few years back.

Now, Sofia leads you away from Ben so that you can dance with her. She pulls into the bachata—ironically, the dance that began in the bars and brothels of Santo Domingo. In the 1960s, it was the dance of the lower class, the degenerates, and the campesinos. Bolero rhythm was its heart, but the spirit of the common people was its soul.

You protest at first at being uprooted from your grumpy mood, but your grandma has a way of hooking you into almost anything. Eventually your tense shoulders relax, and you’re laughing and twirling under her hand while you let your body inhabit the song.

Ben watches the scene in amusement, becoming transfixed by the sway of your hips, to the quick and natural steps of your feet…until Sofia grabs his hand too. 

“Hey, no. I’m good,” he says. “I don’t dance…whatever this is.”

“So I teach you,” she insists, beckoning him closer. “Come, come! Watch me. Es fácil. Real easy.”

You step off to the side to give them room, and you giggle while watching Ben try to follow her instructions. Sofia is persistent though. She teaches him how to step in counts of two, how to lead her back and forth, then turn her around. She even sends you a cheeky look while she has the man’s hands trapped either in her hand, or on her waist.

You hide your laughter behind your espresso cup. Damn. She’s still got game.

After a few minutes, Sofia leads him over to join Ben’s hand with yours, claiming she needs a rest. She guides you into his arms, and you step in with a good-natured smile.

“This is a bit fucking much,” he mutters to you. “It’s too complicated.” 

“You’re actually doing well. Just feel it though. Don’t watch your feet,” you continue to instruct him, amused by his hesitance. 

He seems to be into this though, and he begins to gain some confidence the more he learns the flow of the steps. He holds your hand more assured as he moves from side to side in time with the beat. For a white boy born with a silver spoon in his mouth, he has some decent rhythm. 

Ben throws in a spin that’s not quite bachata-like. It feels more like the swing of the ‘40s, the stuff you’ve only seen in movies. Still, it thrills you when you end up even closer in his arms, his warm chest pressed to yours. He looks down on you with hooded eyes that slowly roam your face, stopping on your lips.

He begins to bow his head toward yours, but you clear your throat and smile, a little nervously. You place a hand on his chest and push him back subtly as the song comes to an end. 

“Oh! Before I forget,” Sofia says. 

You almost forgot she was there. Instinctively you freeze where you stand, still catching your breath all too close to Ben. 

“Can you pick up some things from the store for later? I’m making arroz con pollo,” she says. “But you know what, I’ll give you a list, ‘cause I’m out of some other things too.”

Glancing up at Ben once more, you take the excuse to step away from him. You agree to take your grandma’s list, and you head to your room to get changed. 

The man not only follows you to the car, but insists on “getting out of the house” and going with you to the local Cuban-owned grocery store and café. 

“Christ on a Cross, is this the price of steak nowadays?” he mutters, eying all the cuts behind the cold glass. “Used to be cheaper to order it at a fucking restaurant.”

You’ve stopped here to pick up a couple packages of ground beef. You shoot him a glance, wondering why he cares when he had enough money to buy the restaurant, once upon a time. Maybe it’s the principle of the matter with him.

“Welcome to the modern world,” you drawl. “It’s getting too expensive to live, and jobs don’t want to pay for shit.”

He raises a brow, but he follows you down the aisle.

Ben is kind of the worst to go shopping with. He sneaks things into the cart when he thinks you’re not looking. You tell him you’re not buying him three different cakes and a dirty magazine. Where the hell did he even find that? 

You stuff it all back on a shelf, behind some boxed novelty cakes imported from Mexico. Though you agree to buy him one dessert, after you throw in some peaches. 

“You may be a super soldier, but you should eat more fruits and veggies,” you quip. Stuffing himself full of takeout, booze, and weed all the time can’t be good for him.

Ben raises a wry brow at you. He sidles up close while you’re putting goods on the checkout counter. His hand molds to the curve of your waist as he speaks lowly in your ear.

“I’ve got all the peaches I need, sweetheart.”

You blush hotly and send him a wide-eyed look over your shoulder. His hand means to drift lower on your ass, but your lips purse, and you smack his hand away.

“Do you have no shame?” you whisper-hiss. Giving him one kiss was like feeding a stray dog. Now he thinks he can keep sniffing your ass for more. 

“Come on, Chiquita. Would it kill you to lighten the fuck up?” he teases. 

You roll your eyes heavenward, praying for strength. You manage to get through the rest of the transaction of the checkout line mostly in peace, and Ben does all the heavy lifting of putting the bags in the car. However, you’re giving him a bit of a cold shoulder as you get back into the car.  

“All right, what’s the matter now?” he asks. “For Christ’s sake, you don’t have to be so fucking frigid.”

“Why did you come anyway?” you ask, slamming the trunk closed. “Just to cop another feel? What, did you think I was gonna blow you in the alley behind the bodega?”

Ben hesitates with a frown. There’s a moment where you think he might give you an earnest answer, but ultimately, he just shrugs. “Worth a shot.”

You scoff, both incredulous and disgusted as you rip the driver’s side door open and get inside the car. You barely wait for Ben to do the same on the passenger side, before you’re turning the ignition and angrily shifting the car into reverse. 

You back out with more force than Ben would’ve recommended, but he flexes his fingers on his thigh. He doesn’t want to tell you that he hadn’t liked the idea of you going out alone. Not without a weapon, some protection.

But he also didn’t think you’d still be cockblocking him so much after last night. And this morning, he thought you were actually warming up to him…

Guess not, he thinks sardonically, with a roll of his eyes. Whatever. It’s not like he’ll be wanting for pussy when he gets to South America. Pretty soon, it’s going to be him fucking bitches on nude beaches, drowning himself in margaritas, blow, and pussy all day long. 

He doesn’t know what it is about you though. He knows you’re into him, even if you won’t admit it… 

It’s that challenge, that Latina fire that stokes his blood every time he looks at you. Gotta be.

He also knows that the moment he leaves, one of two things will happen. Either Vought finds you, or the CIA does. If it’s the latter, they’ll question you. Even if they don’t get the information they want, they could try to protect you and your family.

Regardless, Ben knows he can’t stay. That’ll just make things worse, for himself, and for you. All he can do is take advantage of the hours he has left here.

“Look, what’s your problem, huh?” he tries again. “Think I can’t show you a good time?”

You heave a sigh without looking at him. “It’s not about that, Ben.”

“Then what’s it about?”

“You’re leaving. You’re not going to stay and fight the deranged prick who’s on the verge of taking over the whole damn country,” you say sharply. “You’re gonna fuck off to who knows where, bury your head in the sand, and numb yourself for the rest of your life. So there’s no point in exploring you and me. I’m not gonna be some quick fuck and ‘Sayonara, sweetheart. Been a good time.’ No! None of that shit.”

That falls heavily between you two, even with the radio playing at a moderate volume.

Ben simmers in the near silence while you drive through the heavy traffic in Miami. You curse when you get stuck at an intersection. 

“This is taking fucking forever,” he grumbles.

You whip your head over at him again. “Okay, and? Should I part the Red Sea of Miami for you?”

“All right, Christ. Enough,” he says. He rubs at his forehead like you’re giving him a headache. 

Good, you think. The feeling’s mutual.

Ben crosses his arms in his seat and stares out ahead. Traffic is starting to easy up, allowing you to inch closer to the righthand turn. 

You blow out a sigh, contemplating the man riding shotgun. You’re not sure why he’s still here with you. Why he doesn’t want to just leave his old life behind and make new somewhere else. It’s obvious that he wants you, but does he care about you? 

There’s no point in exploring you and me.

You hadn’t meant to say that, but it left you with a sinking feeling in your chest afterward. You still feel its hold on you now, steely fingers gripping your heart.

It’s fucking crazy. You must be crazy…to want him to care.

But before you can let your mind devolve any further, Ben breaks you out of your thoughts when he points out a McDonald’s up ahead. 

“How about you pull over into the drive-thru there,” he says.

You raise a brow at him. “You’re hungry again? Already?”

He shrugs. You shake your head, but your lips begin to tug at a smile. This fucking bottomless pit.

“All right, I’ve got this.”

You take him to a hole-in-the-wall Cuban bakery. The sign is half-scratched off, but you know it from memory. This place has been here for over 50 years, since waves of Cubans fled the iron fist of Fidel Castro’s communism in anything that would float those 90 miles—from pristine sands, and the home of guava fruit, plantains, and pure sugar cane, to the rough shores of the Florida Keys.

Ben polishes off a Cuban sandwich and three guava and cheese pastries, washing it all down with three beers and a cigar he got by talking shop with the locals playing dominoes in the dining area. The men are old enough to remember him as Soldier Boy. Even though they watch the news all day long, they have a healthy mistrust of everything they see.

They're more inclined to trust the supe they watched and admired when they were young men, the supe that (they thought) represented the ideals of the American dream; the same dream they themselves had fought for when they arrived in this country.

“Don’t worry, we’re not gonna out you to the press,” says the only one of them who speaks English. “I’ll just get to tell the wife that I shared a cigar with Soldier Boy. She don’t gotta know when.” 

The other men laugh, Ben included. You roll your eyes. 

They talk him into playing around of dominoes with them, offering to “teach” him how to play, as long as he bets $5 to start with. You lean over his shoulder and help him make the right moves. Your dad and your uncles taught you how to play when you were a kid.

With your help, he ends up winning $200 dollars off of the old men. They don't get mad about it, all too happy just to spend time with one of the only superheroes they respect. You realize then why Ben is getting along so well with these guys; the man himself is at least twenty years older than them. This is essentially a group of his peers.

And what does that make me? you wonder, not knowing whether to laugh or be icked out. The longer you stare at Ben's profile, the line of his jaw, the cut of his beard, the roguish sweep of his hair and the shape and broadness of his form all too casually sitting in a metal chair, the more that thought fades to the back of your mind.

You focus more on Ben, specifically the way he's all too smirky and cocky and proud of his winnings. You’re amused at the way he counts the bills to himself later in the car. You’d think he won the lotto at Atlantic City or something. 

“Hey,” he says, earning your attention. “Let me take you out before I go. Call it a thank you.”

You give him an incredulous look. “You haven’t tested fate enough today? You should be lying low. Me too for that matter.”

“Relax, Chiquita. Nobody fucking knows we’re here,” Ben says, continuing to count his bills. He glances over at you though. “Besides, you’ll be fine, long as you’re with me.”

You consider him with a tilt of your head. Long as you’re with me, huh?

He wants to actually do something for you. More than that, he wants to protect you.

You fight the small swell of butterflies in your stomach. Matter of fact, you hate those little shits. A small sigh escapes your lips.

This guy is fucking exhausting.

“How many goodbyes are we going to have, Ben?” you ask.

He quirks a smile. 

“Just humor me.”

AN: Did you like the little scene change? I had to give things a more tropical vibe for Miami. 😉 Plus, we got a bit of the fake dating trope sliding in there, meeting the parents, some disappointed father syndrome -- checking some rom-com boxes right? 😂

Next Time:

You lead him away from the tight crowd on the dance floor and around the bar, and into a dark hall near the bathrooms. It’s still loud though, that baseline dropping as the DJ’s sirens go off in the club. 

Ben stumbles, his left hand shooting out to smack heavily against the wall. He dents the plaster. You quickly move in front of him and rest your hands against his chest.

“Ben, you with me?” you say in a measured tone. “Hey, you okay? You hearing me?”

His brows furrow in answer, but you can tell he’s not all there. His breathing is growing ragged. You feel his chest getting warm, and then hot. 

Oh, fuck, your blood runs cold. Is this the strange new explosive power that nearly crumbled Vought Tower? Is this club about to get wiped off the map, like that building in Midtown? Are you about to get blown sky high along with it?

Fuck that. 

You grab his face in your hands. “Ben, you focus on me, okay? Before you blow your cover. Before you hurt someone.”

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Soldier Boy Masterlist

Main Masterlist

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[kaddyssammlung]

Let's load the gun → this thrown didn't come with a gun (I got a different energy)

Trying to make peace with Nazareth. I have not listened to it often because the lyrics are too creepy for me.

Ever since Gethsemane is out I am seeing Nazareth in a different light.

Someone once said Nazareth feels like a rage phantasy and I do see this now.

You never listen to me → make her eat the tape in the bathroom mirror

“make her eat tape” always created this image of someone putting tape over someone's mouth so that they can't talk. I mean when she never wanted to listen and all that you wanted was for her to listen to you, then maybe, out of anger, you think about doing something like that? Or maybe not. Maybe a dream that he had? Such a cruel thing/ thougt.

Building you a kingdom → this thrown

I wonder what that kingdom is? Maybe he treated her so well and did everything and made his whole world revolve around her but she did not eve notice this?! Or in his words "would not even tough me". I can see this being a thing. Why? Because of my own past experiences in relationships. I had to make them stay. Then they left anyway.....

Nazareth still gives me the creeps. But I already said that. Vessel does hint towards the dreamworld quite often. In our dreams we find the things that we supress or try to run away from. Those things get buried in the subconscious mind. I have mentioned Carl Jung quite often. He was one of the first ones to look further into the dreamworld and the subconscious mind. It's in passages like “I am the shadow you're a passenger” “I feel my shadow dissolving” “with the shadows longer to me than a lightyear” that he points into this direction.

When you dissolve all of this, in that case that rage that he had towards that women, then you change your energy “I've got a different energy”. He took that gun and put it down and “learned to live beside it”. Or let go of his pain, anger.....

So? Nazareth a fantasy or a dream that he had because he was angry.

Gethsemane a last time looking back at that someone and letting us know why he was so angry but also letting us know that he moved on.

I just wrote that because I felt like it and maybe also in a means to try to convince myself that it's okay to listen to Nazareth without getting scared.

[nonbinary-octopus]

oops I started thinking about a frustrating event from highschool and spiraled into anger again :/

[miaoua3]

Stay Forever?

Pairing: CEO! scoups x f!reader

Genre: smut (MDNI), slight angst, p in v sex, unprotected sex, slight choking, possessiveness, cowgirl, spanking, cheol punches a guy once, soft sex, yuta of nct used as a bad guy (sorry bro)

Description: being with cheol was like being in a paradise. but what happens when a troublesome past comes to haunt you?

OR

Part 3 and final part of Stay The Morning? And Stay The Night?

Notes: sort of sad to see this series come to an end. but that just means there’s a new one coming👀

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

3 months later

you smile to yourself as you walk down the street, your steps having a bit of an extra skip in them as you try to get to your destination as quickly as possible.

it was a warm spring day, sun getting absorbed by the black lenses of your sunglasses, your black dress swinging with each step you make.

finally, you see the cafe that sana, jihyo and you have decided to meet up at, pushing the heavy door open.

scanning the cafe, you find the two women sat at your usual table, sana talking animatedly to what seems to be...herself, while jihyo, who is obviously bored, is scrolling on her phone, absentmindedly answering your other friend.

you smile at the scene, making your way to them.

they quickly catch your silhouette, both smiling back at you. jihyo jokingly teases you "well, look which lovebird finally decided to show up."

chuckling, you answer "sorry, there was...traffic? yeah, traffic on the way here."

sana immediately calls you out, snorting as she fires back "oh is that the new nickname for your boy toy that we are using from now on?"

feeling your cheeks heat up at this scarily accurate call out, you "accidently" kick her leg under the table, setting your bag on the free space in the booth beside you.

you try to deflate and start the conversation with the usuals 'how are you's', but sana, yet again, cuts you off.

"cut the crap, my friend. we all know why we are here. use the time without your little boy toy to actually tell us how it's going for once. i will literally die if i don't hear about it."

you stop to nervously, yet with a smile on your face, look down at your lap, fidgeting with your fingers as you hesitate to tell them anything, knowing that saying the things out loud makes them seem...more real.

sana, ever the angel that she is, kicks you harshly under the table, her pretty face set in an angry frown as she adds "speak now or i will fight you behind the dumpster."

jihyo, the actual angel in this friendship, swats sana at the back of her head, warning her "calm down and let her gather her thoughts first. i mean seriously, how many times do i have to hit you for you to finally calm down?"

sana just mumbles something inaudible to herself.

shakily exhaling, you say "it is...going good."

seeing your shy smile, jihyo questions you "just 'good'?"

you groan as you hide your face in your hands.

"better than good. he is so good to me, and kind, and he takes care of me. he always asks to see me, almost every day, yet it doesn't feel overbearing whatsoever. and he is such a gentleman too. i can't remember the last time i opened the door or tied my shoes while with him. and he is also-"

you suddenly stop, realising that you have been rambling about cheol for a solid minute, all while sana and jihyo smirk happily at you, both their hands used as a rest for their chins as they look at you.

a flash of embarrassment burns you, eyes wide in shock due to your own behaviour. quickly looking back down, you lamely add "but, um...yeah, i-it's going, i, it's going well..."

your two friends chuckle at you, jihyo teasingly adding "well, glad to hear that he's treating you well and that you are already in love with him."

eyes immediately snapping back up, you defensively say "i am not in love with him."

sana snorts as she responds "sure doesn't sound like that."

you just mumble to yourself, something among the lines of "fake friends" and "why am i even friends with them".

sana twirls her straw around the glass, almost looking like she's about to ask the most normal question ever.

oh boy. if only you knew.

floating out of her mouth, the words "but does he fuck good?" come out, making you choke on your drink, violently coughing as her words still slowly load in your brain.

for a second, you just stare at her, eyes wide as saucers, totally caught off guard.

i mean...the answer is pretty obvious, no?

so why do you feel so shy about admitting it out loud?

sana just raises her eyebrow, kind of as she's asking 'well?', impatiently waiting on your response.

your cheeks are burning, so much so that you have to fan your face with your hands as you look out of the window.

jihyo, teasingly yet lovingly, questions "is that a yes?"

turning your head back towards them, you catch them both smiling at you, knowing your answer before you even said it out loud.

covering your face with your hands, you shyly admit "you have no idea. i didn't even know sex could feel so good, that it could make me feel so...insatiable."

a whistle comes from sana's side of the table, quickly adding "well damn girl. how does it feel to not be celibate for once in your life?"

you snort as you take a sip of your drink to cool down, mumbling against the rim of the glass "you have no idea just how good."

suddenly, your two friends look behind you, knowing smiles spreading across the lips. their reactions got you curious, making you slowly turn around to see what made them smile like that.

well. it's not a 'what'.

it's a 'who'.

cheol, ever so handsome, looks cutely around the cafe, eyes scanning for you. once he spots you, a huge and loving smile spreads across his face, his legs carrying him to you before he even realises.

ah yes, the man that is the whole reason behind you meeting up with your friends.

sana has been asking (read: harassing) you about if they could meet cheol, saying that they, and i quote, "want to meet the guy who has got you looking so stupidly happy".

cheol, ever the enthusiast, immediately said yes, an invisible tail wagging behind him as he excitedly looked at you at the idea of finally meeting the girls that are your dearest friends, and who were there the night you two met.

and so, here you are.

he quickly jogs over to you, bending down towards you. his hand immediately gently grasps your cheek, a breathtaking smile greeting you as he lightly says “hi” before he quickly pecks your lips, catching you off guard.

you shyly say ‘hi’ right back at him, moving a bit in the booth so he can have more space to sit down.

cheol, completely ignoring your attempt at making space for him, immediately slides next to you, thighs and sides touching as he slowly wraps an arm around your shoulders, pulling you into his body.

when you look over to your friends, they are looking at the two of you with shocked eyes but gentle smiles. it’s not the bad kind of shock, but rather the type that says ‘this is so stinkingly cute i am about to puke’.

their reactions make you shyly look at his face, only to find his eyes already looking at you, gentleness mirroring in his warm brown eyes.

you lightly elbow him in his side, signalling with your head towards your friends and that he should greet them.

cheol looks over, and has the ‘oh, right’ kind of reaction, quickly focusing on them as he stretches his hand out.

“hi, i am so sorry. i’m seungcheol, nice to finally meet you. heard a lot of great things about you both.”

sana looks at him with a raised eyebrow and an impressed smile, almost like she’s saying ‘nicely done, girlie’. jihyo on the other hand, just shakes his hand with a friendly and proud smile, introducing herself right back.

you smile at the interactions, feeling a bit fuzzy at seeing your favourite people finally meeting each other.

before jihyo can even utter one singular but casual question, sana quickly cuts in, a serious look on her face.

“right. i’ll cut right to the chase, lover boy. what are your intentions with our girl?”

cheol, even with shocked eyes, automatically answers, not wasting a second.

“to make and keep her as happy as it is humanly possible.”

his answer stuns all three of you into silence, blankly staring at him as he sneakily and ever so casually steals a sip of your drink, clueless to the chaos he has caused.

sana, going back to her obvious act, responds right back.

“mhm. well, don’t think i won’t cut your balls off just because she likes you, shall you ever hurt her.”

cheol, getting a bit more serious, looks her right back in the eyes as he says

“i don’t ever plan on letting myself hurt her. i would rather cut my hand off before i allow myself to do anything bad to her.”

for a few seconds, the two of them have a stare off. it’s kind of like watching two guard dogs have a silent stare down, fighting for dominance.

after a few seconds, sana just lets a little ‘hm’ out before she picks up her glass and takes a sip of her beverage.

you feel your eye twitch at her behaviour, mildly annoyed that she would do that to him within the first two minutes of him getting there.

which is exactly why you ever so slowly put your foot on top of hers-and twist it. hard. paying special attention to her bare toes, pressure increasing with each second.

she yelps an "ow!" as she pulls her foot away, looking at you as if you have killed her hamster. not hesitating a second, she kick you in the shin, an angry pout painted on her lips.

you gasp at her audacity, ready to kick her right back again.

cheol starts chuckling a bit before he slowly uses his arm that is wrapped around your shoulders to pull you into his side. his lips kiss you cheek, right beside your ear, so he can whisper in his deep and sultry voice "calm down, baby. i'm okay, she didn't mean anything bad. she's just looking out for you."

you pout as you relax in his hold, an arm wrapping around his soft tummy. mumbling to yourself, cheol hears your pouty voice "she's being mean to you..."

chuckling once more, he kisses your temple as he reassures you "let her, i can handle it."

the conversation resumes, your friends gently grilling your...cheol, which he responds to with ease. the entire time, his thumb gently rubs your arm, making you feel even more relaxed. so much so, that you lean your head on his shoulder and feel your eyes slowly closing ever so often.

you were only a passive listener in the conversation as it is, so you didn't think anyone would notice.

which was a wrong assumption.

because not even a minute after your eyes finally fully closed, you feel seungcheol's finger slowly push your hair back, tucking it behind your ear before the very same finger lightly pokes your nose, making you open your eyes.

his soft smile and gentle eyes are the first things that greet you, making your heart skip a bit at that sight.

soft voice orders you "don't go falling asleep on me, baby."

you just snuggle a bit deeper as you shyly say " 'm not...i'm just...resting my eyes."

cheol laughs deeply at your absolute lies, entirely too amused by it.

jihyo takes a sip out of her glass before she puts it down. her curious eyes directed at cheol as she asks him.

"so. any plans today for you two lovebirds?"

before you can even open your mouth to say something along the lines of 'oh, just a casual night in, probably to watch a movie and such', cheol's voice cuts you off.

"oh, so many things. actually, we might need to get going soon, sorry to cut this short. it's just that we have a reservation that we need to get to, and there's quite a drive to the resta- uhh, place."

you immediately raise your head, looking at him with excitement but confusion as well "we do?"

his eyes look in your direction the moment you start speaking, a mischievous and proud smile pulling at his mouth's corners.

"yeah, wanted to surprise you but...well, here we are."

you immediately smile in excitement, asking him "where are we going?"

cheol chuckles as he pinches your nose teasingly, responding "i just said that it's a surprise, missy. i am not telling you, you will have to be patient and see."

you pout at his response, ready to start whining jokingly, knowing that it will work on him and that you will get your way with it. but just as you were about to do so, a warning cough "ahm, ahm" coming out of sana's mouth before she starts acting as if she never did it, looking out of the window like it's the most interesting thing ever.

another 10 minutes of talking are spent between you and your friends before cheol and you gather your things to make an exit, hugging the two women goodbye before you head for the door.

but of course, sana wouldn't be sana if she didn't like stirring shit.

which is why she almost yells across the half-full cafe at cheol teasingly "don't get her pregnant yet, i'm too young to be an auntie!"

you look at her as if she were a psych ward escapee, ready to pretend that you don't know her.

cheol, ever the cocky and handsome bastard that he is, just smirks as he calls right back.

"kinda hard not to when she basically begs me to."

you gasp loudly, head snapping in his direction as you stare at him in betrayal. your hand immediately flies through the air before you strike him on his back, so hard that it leaves a handprint behind.

a loud snap crackles through the air, cheol's loud cackling mixing with it before he yelps "ah! that hurt!"

basically pushing him with your foot in his ass, you quickly exit the cafe shop, embarrassment visible in your wide eyes.

cheol chuckles as he wraps an arm around your waist, quickly pulling you into his side despite the resistance from your behalf.

his lips try kissing your lips as an apology, but you purposefully roll them into your mouth so he can't have access to it. quietly mumbling 'm sorry, you feel your resolve crumble with each second and each kiss that he presses to the corner of your mouth.

eventually, you just roll your eyes before you allow him one singular kiss, that he gladly steals and enjoys to the fullest, before you push him away and order him "whatever. we need to go, no? let's go then, we have no time to waste."

he just chuckles for the nth time that day as he responds "yes, ma'am."

like always, he opens the door for you and waits for you to put your seatbelt on before he closes the door and walks over to his side of the car.

his hand finds your thigh, comfortably rubbing your thigh as he starts the car, an arm stretching behind your seat as he looks back so he can safely reverse out of the parking spot.

trying to keep your panties as dry as possible, you brace yourself for the long drive that is ahead of you, trapped in a car with the sexiest man alive.

he then quickly looks at you before he winks, a "reassuring" hand grabbing your hand again after he finished switching the stick.

lord, help me.

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

turns out-seungcheol was a really big romantic, even more so than he initially let on.

the place that seungcheol decided to take you to was a restaurant.

but not just any.

this restaurant was the kind of restaurant that let you know it was high end from the very first second you set your foot inside.

the ceiling was so high, they comfortably let plants cover the entire surface of it, hanging in such a beautiful and raw way.

the lights weren't too bright, which you really appreciated.

(it actually occurred to you only later that you actually did let cheol know about your hatred towards really bright lights, which made him picking this restaurant all the more sweeter.)

the whole place was so beautiful and expensive looking-the brown-ish wood mixed with black furniture and accents of green made it look very cohesive.

overall-it made you look at cheol with even more lo-uhh, affection than you already did.

he was a perfect gentleman too.

although he was noticeably nervous for whatever reason, he was still so engaged with your conversation, asking follow-up questions, laughing at your jokes, and talking quite a bit as well.

the entire time, he was so touchy, but in small and cute ways, so it wasn't all too much on the nose to the other customers. his hand was softly playing with your on top of the table, fingers intertwining and untangling ever so slowly and gently, paying attention to your pretty long nails (that he paid for!!! a fact that he is very proud of). his feet were also tangled up with yours, teasingly not letting them go even when you said you had to get up and go to the bathroom.

the food was even more delicious, thanks to cheol who knew what to order. luckily, he has taken you out so many times, he now knows your tastes so well, he doesn't even have to ask you what you would like.

he was just in the middle of talking, his adorably big eyes looking at you as he did so.

"so i told jeonghan-remember him? the unusually pretty but a bit evil guy?-anyway, i told him that he can't do that to the clients wife, no matter how much of an asshole he was-"

you were both so enamoured with his story, that you didn't even notice a figure walking over to you, not until he stood right by your table and spoke in that condescending and annoying voice of his.

"well, well, well. would you look at that."

the unfortunately familiar voice sent a shiver down your back, your eyes looking up at him. the cockiness in his eyes, the arrogant yet slightly angry look in his eyes.

it all pissed you off.

"you sure do move on quickly, babe. hasn't even been 4 months since you left me, yet here you are. on a "date" with another man."

yuta's voice made your hand that was held by cheol's ball up in a fist, your brain sending rapid signals to control yourself, as jail shouldn't really be the place to spend the night.

coolly, you take a sip of your wine before you look up at him through your eyelashes, a certain coldness in your voice as you shoot right back

"you mean almost 4 months since you decided to be a manchild and cheat on me? yeah, no wonder i moved on so quickly-i actually wonder it even took me that long."

a sarcastic smile overtakes your mouth as you look for yuta's reaction.

his nostrils immediately flare up, fists balling up next to his body as he looks at you. his cheeks redden in embarrassment, clearly humiliated by your call out.

cheol makes a little 'ah' sound, looking at you and acting as if the man standing in front of you is all but real, saying "so this is the piece of shit who had the nerve to cheat on you. didn't know that men who look..." he pauses for a second to give the cheater a disgusted once over, lips curling in disgust as he says "so peculiar were your type. but i guess we all have dark pasts."

you snort at his comment, trying your hardest not to snort in your wine as the words left his mouth.

yuta didn't like that very much.

"who the fuck do you think you are, you-"

cheol's dark voice and even darker eyes stop him from talking any further, words poisonous like snake venom as he warns him.

"careful with what you want to say next. i can guarantee you it won't end up good for you."

you realise this is a very bad time to get a lady boner.

but you can't even control your thighs as they squeeze at the scene in front of you.

cheol, in his black and slightly unbuttoned dress shirt, looking up at the scum that is your ex with eyes that promise to kill.

all while he is still holding your hand on the table, his expensive gold watch reflecting under the restaurant lights.

fuck, he's hot.

but, of course, yuta has never been the smartest cookie, which is why he doesn't take seungcheol's threat seriously and scoffs before he asks him.

"wow, was she so hard to get into the bed? so hard that you now feel the need to defend her so she will sleep with you again?"

cheol's chair scrapes loudly against the floor before you can even blink, catching the attention of other guests.

getting all up in yuta's face, cheol uses his height and broad and strong build to his advantage, ultimately making yuta take a step back as cheol tries to get even closer in his face, threats flying out of his eyes.

"what did you just say about her?", a clear warning rattling in cheol's unnervingly calm and quiet voice.

instead of keeping quiet, yuta decides to smirk right in seungcheol's face and respond back.

big mistake.

"i said-is this whore so hard to get into the bed, that you have to go so far and defen-"

before you can even get up, cheol's fist swings from the back and straight into the man's face, loud crack echoing through the otherwise very quiet room.

you, along with many other observing guests, gasp, getting up from your seat.

seungcheol looks darkly at the man laying on the ground, clutching to his bloody and now broken nose as he wails in pain.

he carefully crouches down next to his body, looking at him like he was an experiment. his hand quickly grabs yuta's collar, bringing him closer to his face.

in what must've been the scariest voice you have ever heard him use, cheol warns yuta

"don't you ever call my girlfriend a whore again. or i will kill you. and that's a promise."

before he gets up and quickly heads for the exit, his whole body trebling with adrenaline as he walks out.

you stand there frozen for a second, wide eyes staring at the door that cheol's body just disappeared behind just a second ago as you process his words.

girlfriend...?

snapping out of your trance, you quickly grab both your and cheol's things, throwing a few dollar bills on the table, jogging slightly for the exit, before you abruptly stop, taking a second to decide if what just crossed your mind is a good idea.

after a second, you just say 'fuck it' before you turn back around, and jog back to yuta.

he's just trying to get up from the floor, his white button up now mostly red. he has trouble standing properly, eyes squeezed in pain, so he doesn't even see you coming.

which is perfect, as you are about to cause him even more pain.

before he can even react, you grab his shoulders and swing your leg so high, your knee connecting with his family jewels so hard, he immediately groans in pain, falling to his knees again.

you loudly exclaim, so the whole restaurant can hear you.

"that's for cheating on me and making my boyfriend angry! fuck you, i hope you stay miserable.", before you start running after your man.

you breathlessly open the door, a swoosh of fresh evening air making goosebumps rise on your arms as you look for seungcheol.

only to find him sitting on a curb, elbows leaning on his knees, and his head in his hands.

as you walk over, you notice his hands still shaking, heavy breaths coming out of his mouth in puffs.

you kneel in front of him, hands softly rubbing his shins as you softly talk to him.

"cheollie. can you look at me please?"

at first he shakes his head no, but after you say 'please?' even softer than you spoke initially, he slowly looks up at you, visible fear in his eyes as they meet yours.

smiling gently, you say something that shocks him.

"thank you."

he looks at you confusedly, not understanding why you'd thank him.

instead, he says.

" 'm sorry."

confusedly, you question

"what are you apologising for?"

he rakes his shaky hands through his hand as he looks down, too embarrassed to face you any longer.

"for acting so...out of hand. and losing my temper. it must've been scary for you to witness it..."

you smile a little at his quiet voice before you grab his hands, bringing them between your bodies as you crouch in front of him.

"there's nothing to apologise for, baby. it wasn't scary at all. you were so...cool, for defending me like that. no one...ever did something like that for me."

cheol looks at your face as you focus your eyes on his rough hands, your soft touch a total opposite of what he's used to, a soft smile stuck to your lips as you run your thumb over his bloody knuckles.

before he can even control himself, he frees his hands in the name of grabbing your cheeks and pulling you to himself, so abruptly that you have to grab his thighs to brace yourself.

and then he kisses you.

roughly, yet so softly, it had your wide eyes closing soon after his upper lip parts your lips.

after a few seconds of kissing, he pulls back so slowly, it has you breathing out a shaky breath as you focus on his big brown and sparkly eyes.

he takes your hands before he suddenly gets up, pulling you up as well with his hold on you, before he softly says.

"let's go home."

and you follow him wordlessly, like always.

••••••••••••••••••••••••••

carefully balancing the two mugs in your hands, you walk over to where cheol is sitting on the couch with his head in his hands, yet again.

bending down, you slowly place your teas on the coffee table, all while looking at the man that is still in a bit of a distress, thinking how you could make the situation better.

he has kind of refused to look at you ever since you two got in the car, despite having kissed you just a minute prior to that. it's not like he's embarrassed about it, but rather like he was almost...afraid to look at you.

well, you can't have that.

carefully kneeling in front of him, your hands start softly rubbing his knees, voice gently calling his name.

"cheollie. can you look at me? please?"

he sighs for a second before he raises his head slightly, sparkly eyes and a big pout greeting you as he does so. you smile at this, fighting the urge to attack him with kisses because he looks so damn adorable.

you grab his hands in yours, rubbing the back of them in comfort as you ask him.

"mind telling me what's on your mind now, honey? you look a bit distracted."

yet another sigh escapes him, eyes closing as he tries to gather his thoughts.

"it's just...i know you said that it was okay, but i am still sorry for just...losing it like that in front of you."

you sigh a little, sitting back on your feet more comfortably as you say.

"there's nothing to apologise for...especially not when i found it really attractive."

this info makes his eyes snap open, looking at you in shock.

"you did?"

you just nod, shyly looking at his hands.

"no one ever stood up for me like that, especially not a man. my exes would mostly stay quiet, saying i could defend myself. the thing is-i can, and i did...but it's nice to see someone go out of their way to defend my name like that..." looking up at him, you finish "your protectiveness over me is very attractive to me. it means you've got my back, at all times."

cheol blushes a little, trying to hide his proud and somewhat cocky smile at bay.

suddenly remembering his other words, you raise yourself on your knees, bringing your face right in front of his. slyly, you question him.

"also-girlfriend? i don't remember you exactly asking me to be your girlfriend."

cheol laughs a bit, embarrassed about his automatic response to that asshole's words. he rubs the back of his neck a bit, kind of like he's considering his next course of action, before he brings that very same hand to his pocket, searching around for a bit, before he brings out a violet velvet jewellery box, presenting it to you elegantly.

"the plan was to ask you that very question tonight after we finished with the dinner and took a little walk to the pier, but that...thing just had to get in the way of my plans."

he gently opens the box to reveal a beautiful bracelet, a pendant of a sun hanging from it.

you gasp in awe, gently caressing it with one finger, a small smile building on your lips slowly the longer you look at it.

cheol takes the bracelet out of the box, opening the clasp before he takes your wrist and turns it around. with careful fingers, he clasps the bracelet shut, turning your hand back around to look at how the pendant is resting on your soft skin.

you look at it with adoration, holding your own wrist with your other hand as if it were the most precious treasure. you bring your hand close to your chest before you look him in the eyes.

"thank you, it's so beautiful. i love it so much."

cheol smiles shyly as he watches at your reactions.

"it's a sun. i was thinking which charm is most fitting to you, and i picked that one."

you look at him questioningly, a bit of confusion evident to his answer.

"why?"

cheol grabs that very same hand and brings it to his lips, soft lips kissing the back of your hand with a feather-light touch, before he answers.

"because before you, there was no sun in my life. it was all just an illusion-the successful life, all the wealth with no one to spend it one. even on the hottest days, my life seemed so...gloomy. that is, until i met you. you brought light to my life, one smile at the time. you...are the most wonderful person that has ever willingly walked into my life, and i don't want you going anywhere, ever."

you look at him with shock, your heart beating at thousand miles per minute. no one had ever been so open with their feelings for you like he is. no one had ever adored you so openly and loudly like he did.

no one had ever been the perfect man for you, like he is.

grabbing his face in your hands, you immediately kiss him as you wiggle yourself from the floor and onto his lap, his hands basically picking you up with ease and setting you to sit on his thighs, your legs squeezing around his thick and wide thighs.

his arms immediately wrap themselves around your waist, hands finding their home on your ass as he uses his hold to pull you deeper into his body.

his lips are kissing you slowly, sensually. tongue opening your lips so he can have access to your warm mouth, the very same tongue meeting your own half way before he retracts it back, lips softly sucking on your bottom lip, before he repeats the same action over and over again.

your hands find home in his longish black hair, nails scratching his scalp the way you've learned that he loves whenever you do it.

with back as straight as an arrow up until this point, you feel yourself relax in his hold, body sinking in his arms. you feel the same thing happening to cheol as well, slowly letting your bodies weigh him down until his back meets the couch.

the kiss continues for while, cheol sighing every few seconds in content, his hands now underneath the skirt of your dress, massaging the softness of your ass, periodically squeezing it hard before releasing it, only to do it again at the slow speed.

almost like it hit him suddenly, he lets your lips separate for a second, foreheads leaning on each other, just so he can cheekily ask you.

"does this mean you are my girlfriend now? is that a yes?"

you smile widely, whispering softly to him.

"it means you need to shut up because i want to kiss my boyfriend now." before you dive back into that kiss.

cheol's smile is so wide, he completely gives up on kissing you, instead letting your lips travel over his chin, cheeks, jawline, before they settle on softly sucking on the skin of his neck, one hand firmly holding his jaw in place, while the other travels between your bodies so it can rub his soft tummy, dangerously close to his belt. this action gets him to throw his head back against the backrest of the couch, eyes closing as he lets you take control over the situation.

his hands are still on your ass, a fact that you really enjoy at the moment, as he's teasingly playing with the lacy material, purposefully stretching it out a bit just to let it snap back against your skin, arousing a low moan out of you.

you bring your face in front of his again, his hazy eyes looking at your own, blown out pupils making his eyes appear almost completely black. his cheeks are a bit reddish, probably due to arousal that is slowly building beneath the material of his black pants.

at the same time, your lips come back onto his to give him the sloppiest kiss ever, saliva smearing against his chin as he reciprocates your dirty kiss, while also sitting fully on his semi erected dick, grinding the material of your panties against his bulge.

cheol moans as he feel the warmth of your core against his hard cock, hands immediately going from playing with your ass to slowly pulling on the hem of your dress, signalling to you that he wants it off.

the kissing stops for the few seconds it takes him to fling the dress of your body and throw it to the side. his breath catches in his lungs at your matching black set-the set that he bought you just a week ago and that he didn't get the chance of seeing you wear.

using his distraction, your hands busy themselves with unbuttoning his dress shirt, heavy breathing echoing in the otherwise quiet room. when your hands reach the buttons on his stomach, you forcefully pull the shirt of of his pants, unbuttoning the rest of the little buttons before you open the shirt, revealing the most beautiful view that his strong but soft body.

his pecks have grown due to him working out extra hard this last month, using the time where you are busy with work to distract himself a bit. but despite him working out more, his tummy has still grown a bit, looking so soft and beautiful. he has gained a bit of weight as a result of you two eating almost all meals together, every day, all day. cheol wasn't used to eating this much, usually settling on a half assed dinner with his partners, but ever since he met you, he would either bring takeout or there would be a warm meal waiting on him due to the curtesy of you cooking for him.

and honestly?

he looked so much hotter like this.

sure, you loved how strong he looked before his weight gain, but now, he looked even...bigger, stronger.

he looked like a man.

his shoulders alone looked so much broader, you had trouble wrapping your arms around them whenever he decided to fuck you on the kitchen counter.

or bathroom sink.

or in his car.

well. the sex life is still going strong, that's for sure.

he wraps one hand around your throat loosely, using the hold to bring you back to him. his lips immediately attack your own, tongue finally taking over the dominance, kissing you at the speed that he likes, which is a bit faster than you usually go at.

your hands immediately go to unbuckling his belt, a bit clumsily due to the urge to get him naked as soon as possible.

his hand stays around your neck, pressing the sides a bit every now and then, keeping you in his control.

once the belt is off, you get down to unzipping his pants, revealing the band of his black calvin klein boxers, a stain from the precum visible on the dark material.

you feel the walls of your pussy squeeze around nothing, wishing he would push his cock inside already. it's actually embarrassing just how wet you feel your inner thighs are, dripping juices all over his lap from a kiss only.

you whine against his lips, a clear sign to him that you are getting more desperate for him.

he suddenly pushes you back with his hand on your neck, making you throw your head back at his action.

his dark eyes carefully scan your form, from your fucked out face, to the rapid rase of your chest from heavy breathing, to the way your perky nipples poke at the black lacy material of the bra, to how your hips are unconsciously grinding just a teeny tiny bit against his own, thighs helplessly squeezing around his wide legs.

fuck, you looked like a work of art.

bringing you back to him just as suddenly, he doesn't let your lips touch his yet, as the urge to say something takes over him.

your eyes desperately look in his, begging him to do something.

ignoring you for a second, he instead tells you in his deep and raspy voice.

"you are mine now. no one is allowed to touch what's mine, are we clear? i will literally kill any man who dares touch you, no matter his intentions. if there's so much as a missing hair on your hair, i will make them pay." swallowing for a bit, his stormy eyes look at yours, continuing with talking once more. "you are mine, and i am yours. and i will make sure that everyone knows that."

you have a short second to think to yourself fuck, that's so hot before he suddenly kisses you messily, taking hold of your hips so he can move them against his own, making your grind against his rock hard cock now.

a loud moan escapes you, hands clutching his shoulders as you feel yourself get lightheaded from his actions and words, the urge to have him inside you so strong, that you helplessly beg him "fuck me, claim me, please, just -ah!- do something."

cheol, not one to leave your wishes unfulfilled, uses his hand to take his dick out of his boxers, his hard cock standing proudly against your tummy.

you raise yourself on your knees, impatiently waiting as you feel him move your panties to the side, and instead of just pushing his dick inside, he uses the very same hand to tease your folds a bit, gathering your precum on his fingers. he pauses the kiss in the name of pushing his fingers inside his mouth, groaning at the taste.

all while maintaining eye contact with you.

once his mouth is free, he brings your desperate little lips back to his, kissing you harshly and quickly as he distractedly tries to pump his dick a few times, before he brings his member to your folds. he rubs the head against your wet lips, teasing your clit a bit just so he can hear more of those sweet moans leave your mouth and flow directly into his.

he feels your nails dig into his naked shoulders, meaning that you are slowly getting impatient.

showtime.

carefully, he pushes the tip inside your pussy, the walls immediately squeezing around it so much, cheol feels himself lose all air in his lungs.

your sweet, sweet moan is so loud, it has cheol squeeze the meat on your hip hard. you let yourself slowly sink down the rest of his length, taking your sweet time as you do so. your walls convulse around his hard dick, feeling every little vein scrape against your walls.

after almost a minute of you struggling to take in his thick length, you feel his dick bottom out, a moan mixed with a sigh of relief as you do so.

cheol feels his eyes roll into the back of his head at the raw feeling of your pussy, breathing in and out deeply as a way to stop himself from cumming inside of you so embarrassingly quick.

instead of guiding your hips like usual, or even fucking upwards into you, he slowly brings his lips next to your ear, and so, so sensually tell you.

"go on-take it. if you want it, work for it. be a good girl-make yourself cum."

you want to whine in protest, a complaint on the tip of your tongue, but stop at the look in his eyes.

it's not even an order.

it's his wish that he wants you to fulfill.

you use the hold on his shoulders as an anchor, and rather than to bounce on his dick, you drag your hips forward until your tummies are touching, and then roll them right back, your ass dragging against his thighs. you repeat that action over, and over, and over.

cheol watches you, your little concentrated frown, wet and parted lips, your perky tits that sitting so prettily. your pretty neck almost calling his name to hold and choke it a bit.

fuck, your moves may be devilish, but you sure to look like an angel.

you continue rolling your hips like that, his dick almost falling out whenever you roll your hips forward, only to slip right back in once you move backwards. the tip is deliciously teasing you, almost tickling your sweet spot but not quite there yet.

his hands finally come back to hold your ass cheeks, slapping the right one whenever he notices your moves faltering, a murmured 'keep going' being the only thing he's able to say.

cheol's eyes are completely focused on how his dick exits and enters your pussy every time you move, hypnotised by the way your hips roll so smoothly.

you slowly start feeling your legs and feet cramp up, but nevertheless, you continue riding him like it's your very last chance to do so.

cheol's little encouraging words such as 'good girl', 'keep going', 'atta girl' and 'fuck, just like that baby' enter your ears but don't really register in your brain, instead completely focusing on bringing him the upmost pleasure.

but almost like he can sense it, cheol quickly grips your ass better, and positions his feet better so he can finally give it to you the way you want him to.

his strong hands completely control your movements, now making you bounce on his cock. his dick slides in and out so easily, all because you are so wet, he actually feels your wetness drip down his length and balls, drenching the couch beneath him.

you moan so loudly at his movements, finally relaxing and letting him do whatever he wants and pleases with you. his fingers grip the soft skin of your ass so strongly, you feel yourself only get wetter because of it.

he is so strong, he could pick you up with ease and manoeuvre your body any way he pleases. he could break you. but he adores you so much, instead he treats you so gently and lovingly, only going as hard as he thinks you can handle.

you wrap your arms fully around his shoulders, letting your head fall on his shoulder as he bounces you on his cock. your sweet moans go directly in his ear, which just makes him groan more, harshly slapping your ass as he praises you.

"moan so pretty for me baby, i could listen to you all day. fuck, i will listen to you every day, you are mine now. fuck, all mine."

cheol feels your walls tighten impossibly hard around his member, making him close his eyes as he gasps at the sensation, barely keeping his release at bay.

"fuck, pussy so tight it almost made me cum. you like that, sunny? like that you are all mine now?"

you are so out of it, affected by the constant stimulation to your g spot by his tip, that you only have it in yourself to moan as a response.

at that, cheol delivers a much harsher slap to your ass cheek, a warning present in his voice as he says.

"i asked you something, answer me."

you almost scream at his particularly hard spank, gathering your thoughts for a second before you say "fuh-fuck, yes, love tha' so much- ah- i'm all yours."

cheol groans at your sweet answer, slapping your ass once more.

"fuck, yes you are. all mine. my baby, my darling girl. mine to protect and fuck. my girl."

you love his words so much, they make you feel...whole in a sense.

but they also awaken some similar feelings inside of you.

which is why you suddenly bite his neck harshly, sucking on that very same spot in hopes that it will leave a mark.

seungcheol moans at your action, the loudest moan of the night escaping him actually.

you darkly whisper in his ear "you are mine-ah!- mine too. want you all to myself. my cheollie."

groaning at your words, he grabs the back of your neck to pull you back, only to clash his lips with yours messily, tongue immediately winning the battle of dominance.

he doesn't even have to help you all that much to bounce on his cock; you do it all by yourself at this point, desperately chasing your high.

he pauses the kiss for a second it takes him to say against your lips "fuck, love it when you are possessive baby, i'm all yours, just as you are mine. never gonna let that piece of shit near you again, he's never gonna have you again. you are mine."

at that, he brings his hand between your bodies, his expert fingers quickly finding you clit and rubbing it, putting enough pressure that you feel your toes curl, quick movements from right to left as he's ordering you "cum f'me, make a mess on this cock, baby."

and you do, unconsciously bringing his body closer to your by your hold around his shoulders.

his own arms wrap themselves around your waist as he chases his own orgasm, sound of skin slapping against each other echoing throughout his own living room.

finally, he groans as he pulls you down on his dick harshly, the warm liquid spilling inside your pussy, making you moan at the feeling.

he lets himself fall back against the couch, bringing your own body with his, just letting you breathe a bit.

you close your eyes and play with the material of his dress shirt that is still hanging loosely around his shoulders, the material now completely soaked through. knowing that he hates the feeling of sweaty clothes against his skin, you barely make an effort to move but still slowly pull it down his arms. he makes a little sound of confusion before he lets his arms fall from your waist so you can take it off, chucking it some where to the side.

his hands immediately come back around your waist, his nose contently sighing against the skin of your shoulder, eyes closing at your natural smell.

cheol doesn't like immediately pulling out of you, instead making the post orgasm time your little bonding time. he can't really explain it, but he just feels that much closer at those moments, no urgency or arousal behind his actions as he gently caresses your skin, his dick still twitching a bit inside of your warm pussy.

after a few moments of silence, you start smiling to yourself at the realisation, making you softly kiss his cheek as you happily hug him tighter.

he makes a little 'hm?' sound at this, questioning your sudden happiness.

you pull back just enough until you are face to face to each other, noses almost touching as you do so. he unconsciously starts smiling after seeing your own smile, hands gently pushing your hair back so it's not in the way.

you smile even wider at his gentle actions, making you raise your hand and softly cup his chubby cheek with it. almost like you are testing the words, you say "my boyfriend." to him, thumb gently rubbing his warm and rosy skin.

the immediate smile as a reaction makes you coo at the man beneath you, his pearly whites coming through from how big he's smiling at your words.

just as gently, he says back "my pretty and beautiful girlfriend."

giggling a bit at his words, you hug him closer to yourself again, before you bring his body away from the couch rest and make your bodies kind of awkwardly fall back onto the couch, his body hovering over yours as you try to pull him completely onto you, craving that feeling that him laying on top of you with his whole weight gives you.

you groans a bit as his dick slips out, a half hard on looking for a way back in.

he jokingly says "well aren't we a bit needy tonight" as he gives you what you want and lays himself completely on top of you, head tucking in your neck and kissing the skin there as he had nothing better to do.

you sigh contently, eyes closing on their own. replying back, you ask him "can't a girl just want to have her boyfriend as close as possible?" before you start running your fingers up and down his back, making a trail of goosebumps where your fingers touch his skin.

cheol chuckles at your words before he questions you back "you are never going to stop calling me that, are you?"

you intertwine your legs together as you answer "considering i have been waiting for you to ask me to be your girlfriend for literal weeks now-no, i don't think i can stop calling you my boyfriend."

swallowing a bit, cheol kisses your jawline softly as an apology before he answers "i was just waiting for the appropriate amount of time to ask you that. plus, i wanted everything to be perfect, which considering how tonight went, maybe shouldn't have been the deciding factor."

you chuckle at his response.

"cheollie, i literally spent the night the very first time we met each other. i don't think we are the type of couple to follow the rules that other couples do."

this makes him raise his head from your shoulder, a teasing smile playing on the edges of his lips.

"does that mean you will move in with me?"

your eyes almost fall out of their sockets at this, immediately replying.

"wow, slow down, romeo. one big question per day, please. plus, my lease won't end for another 6 months, so. if you still feel like that, ask me when that comes to an end."

he looks at you adoringly, pushing non-existent hair out of your face as he responds.

"i just...want you by my side at all times. i hate having to think if you got home safe after you leave my house. i hate having to ask you where i should go to after work, in case you might be too busy to have me over. i want to come home to you every night. i want to share everything with you."

he stops for a second, but before you can open your mouth to tell respond back to him, he continues.

"i realise that's a bit crazy to feel after just a few months of being together, but...i am not getting any younger. and...i have never met someone who had this much affect on me. you...enchanted me, with your big eyes and soft smiles, and warm hugs and comforting words. i can't fight the urges anymore-i just want to be with you."

you watch as he shyly plays with your hair, cheeks red at his words.

you find his words...touching, your own cheeks burning at how sweet and honest he is with you. which is why you gently grab his cheeks and pull him towards yourself, lips meeting in a gentle press.

you let the kiss naturally finish, finally responding to his little rant with.

"ask me in 6 months, and i will say yes."

cheol looks at your eyes, only to find nothing but honesty in there.

almost like he is in a trance, he lets his lips find your own again, kissing you with so much gentleness, all while he's thinking to himself.

fuck, don't tell her yet, it is too soon to confess your love to her. she hasn't even been you girlfriend for 2 hours, control yourself you maniac.

clueless at the inner turmoil he's dealing with, you kiss him right back, arms wrapping around his shoulders as you let yourself relax.

cheol feels the metal of the bracelet around your wrist softly dangle against the skin of his shoulder, making him softly grab your arm and bring it down so it's resting on the couch. he then goes to intertwine your fingers, firmly holding your hand down.

you slyly open your legs so he can settle between them, an obvious sign as to what you want from him.

he happily obliges.

cheol ever so carefully-finally- removes your bra and panties, kissing the newly bare skin of your chest a bit before he comes back up to kiss your soft lips.

using his free hand, cheol slowly brings your leg up, wrapping it around his hip as he settles between your legs.

his erected dick is standing proudly against his stomach, waiting to finally be inside you again. directing his hips a bit, he slowly slides his dick between your folds, the tip deliciously rubbing against your already tingling clit as he does so.

a soft moan leaves your mouth, your glassy eyes half lidded as they stare up at cheol, waiting for his next move.

cheol himself being impatient, doesn't waste any more time, and with his dick in his hand slowly directs it to your gaping hole.

and then he's pushing inside of you.

the air around you two has shifted this time. there's no sense of urgency or the need to claim each other, to mark each other. instead, your touches, your sounds, your actions-they are...softer.

the first round was you two fucking, trying to get all of these big and somewhat ugly emotions out of the way.

now, however?

now you two are making love.

his movements are slow, controlled, rolling his hips in a way that it feels almost suffocating. his hand is still intertwined with yours, in a way anchoring you to the reality.

and his lips?

they are gently kissing you, going from your lips to your cheek, pressing deep yet soft kisses all over. he also hasn't stopped softly talking to you, just little things like 'my girl' and 'doing so good for me'.

you cling to him, the one free arm wrapped around his back, as well as your legs around his waist. you need him to be as close to you as possible, this unusual need to have him almost under your own skin never stronger than in this moment.

he's professionally rocking his hips against your own, slowly and softly doing so. he wants to appreciate you now, to make it known how much he values you.

your walls pulse around his length, desperate to have him reach the depth that you crave. to be completely honest, your pelvis hurts hurts a bit from how wide you have to spread your legs, but you endure it, in the name of having your man as close to you as possible.

his chest presses into your own, so you can feel just how wildly fast his heart is beating. you even bring the free hand to his chest, gently pressing into his peck. you break your kiss so you can whisper a little "relax, love, breathe for me" before going back to kissing him slowly, your lips softly sucking on his bottom lip as you do so.

cheol exhales deeply through his nose, his hold on your hand getting tighter as he does so. shyly, he whispers back through the kiss "you make me crazy, i can't calm it down even if i wanted to."

you moan at his words, the honesty of his words making your walls squeeze around his cock.

cheol's pace picks up a bit, just enough so that he can chase your highs at a somewhat comfortable pace.

your whole body is shaking, legs trembling against his hips as you feel your orgasm slowly approaching. you are sensitive from the first round as it is, which makes this one all the more stimulating.

your boyfriend's breathing is slowly getting irregular, almost like he's getting any air the longer he continues to fuck into you.

he hasn't stopped talking the entire time, saying all these little comments to you that are supposed to be encouraging.

but one comment in particular catches your attention.

while being so lost in the pleasure, seugcheol almost lets it slip out, saying "fuck, i just lov- mmh-" before he pushes his face into your neck, pretending that it never came out.

but it did.

and you heard him.

and god, how you did want him to say it.

which is probably why you encouragingly whisper in his ear.

"tell me in the morning. if you feel that way, tell me once the sun's out."

from that point on, your mind becomes so hazy, that everything becomes a bit blurry to you. his pace picks up, yet you still feel every vein on his dick as you clench around it, his tip quickly hitting your sweet spot repeatedly.

his hand yet again finds your clit, rubbing it even faster than the first time, trying to bring you to the finish line even faster.

his lips are so desperate, moaning and whining against yours as he chases his orgasm, so very sensitive from the first round.

and then, like a tsunami, your finish hits you so hard, you don't even notice that you squirt onto him.

your finish triggers his own, his cum painting your insides in spurts, deep moans filling the shell of your ear deliciously, before he lets himself fall on top of you, officially too spent to move.

your eyes closed sometime between squeezing his hand so harshly that you leave little crescent moon shaped markings due of your long nails, and letting your legs fall away from his hips, stretching them out so they don't cramp up.

feeling so very satisfied but tired, you just let yourself get picked up by cheol a few minutes later, nuzzling closely in his neck as he carries you to his room.

you go in and out of consciousness as he gently wipes your juices away, cleaning you completely before he pulls on a pair of loose shorts of his and a shirt.

you aren't too sure when, but shortly after that he got into the bed with you, hugging you to his front as he kissed your neck softly.

and then your consciousness faded away, entering the dreamland as you distinctly heard him whisper some things against the back of your head.

the next time you wake up, it is because the early morning sun is shining directly in your eyes, making you immediately close them and shuffle closer to the naked human wall that is your boyfriend.

feeling his eyes on you, you open one sly eye to see what he wants, only to see him lovingly look at you, gently pushing your hair back.

he smiles at you as he greets you "good morning, love."

your own smile ends up being shy, responding back "good morning." before you shuffle even closer, tucking your head under his chin as you wrap an arm around his soft stomach.

cheol hugs you right back, one leg slipping over both yours underneath the fabric of the comforter.

both of you stay quiet for a few minutes, but you can feel cheol's heart racing under your cheek, making you wonder what it could be.

however, despite the racing heart, you don't question him what's wrong. instead, you wait for him to confess it on his own.

finally gathering enough courage, he swallows harshly before he asks you.

"can i say it now?"

you play dumb, asking him "say what exactly?"

"you said to tell you...that in the morning if i feel the same; and i do. so can i say it?"

you don't respond, instead, you shuffle back a bit, until you are laying nose to nose.

before he can even see it, you lean in just a tick more, lips finding his in a soft kiss. but you don't let it go beyond that one kiss, instead, you order him.

"say it. so i can say it back."

breathlessly, almost like he ran a marathon, cheol finally confesses.

"i am in love with you. i love you, so, so deeply."

you roll on top of his body as you kiss him yet again, this time with more urgency than ever before.

his strong arms wrap themselves around your waist, easily bringing you so you are laying on top his big body.

breathlessly, you whisper against his lips.

"i love you. i love you, too. god, how i love you, choi seungcheol."

there, underneath the early morning sunlight, in his warm embrace, you knew.

you knew that this was just a start of something everlasting.

a start of forever.

[tkbrokkoli]

need to vent in the tags a little :(

[kaivenom]

OP dilfs making it up to an s/o after they really fucked up? Like they accuse their s/o of cheating or something and it gets their s/o so upset or mad that it’s like an entirely different person? So then they’re like “FUCK I WENT TOO FAR” and then go about their grovelling?

How the OP Dilfs apologize when they went too far with their s/o

Characters: Doflamingo, Mihawk, Crocodile, Smoker, Shanks

Masterlist

Dracule Mihawk

He leaves you your space, he knows that he is not the person you want to see right now.

He feels like he has his heart on the edge of the throat, the castle feels like falling down on his head without you near.

After a couple of hours he leaves a note under your shared room door.

Seeing that you didn't come out, he began writing more letters and leaving them from time to time.

Reminding you how much he loves you, saying how much he is sorry, and begging you to come out and talk so he can apologize in your face.

Finally you came out and he just opens his arms, waiting for at least a hug from you.

Donquixote Doflamingo

He doesn't let you leave the room, even if he has to force you to stay.

He stays silent while you yell at him, he even lets you throw things at him until you are somehow calm.

Then his smile dissapears and he starts breaking things.

If it was any other situation or person he would have killed them but it is you, and he made a mistake that could cost your relationship.

His behaviour made you feel scared and that only made him more angry.

"Get out, I am sorry but if you stay here I would hurt you. I will reach you when I can apologize."

No one told you how he was afterwards, but all afternoon crushing noises and screams could be heard on all Dressrosa.

Sr. Crocodile

Same strategy and mindset as Mihawk, but different solution.

Instead of notes, he starts buying you things, all your favourite things even if you already have them.

In his defense, he was really desperate so he started buying anything he could think of, like some compulsive manner.

You even came out of the room to yell at him.

"Crocodile, stop buying things for me or I will start breaking all of them"

He was so happy thinking that you were ready to talk and was met with that, completely justified but he still was desperate.

He stopped buying, but he started leaving your favourite flowers around the house to cope with the stress.

So when you got out of the room, you were met with a forest of petals.

Smoker

He is so frustated with himself that he is the one who gets out of the room.

And he didn't come back until late at night, and he was a little drunk.

He didn't ring the doorbell, but you could see his figure from across the window.

WHen you oppened the door, you met with some glassy eyes and some tears.

He began trying to apologize while also whimpering a little.

You tried make a mad face, but he was being so vulnerable and so small that you ended up hugging him.

"I am sorry, really sorry, i felt insecure that you were passing so many time with.... and that you were hagin fun and... i couldn't live without you"

He started sobbing so much that you couldn't understand anything, but it was clearly that he was sorry and you couldn't deny it.

Akagami Shanks

He doesn't let you leave either, but he doesn't force you to stay.

If he really sees that he is forcing you then he will let you go, but he will try until the end to not make you go away.

He grabs you by the arms while you are yelling at him and surprisingly he encourages you to continue screaming at him and taking everything out.

He even kissed you to make you more angry at him, he was obliging you to say everything you've been keeping to yourself.

Cause he knows that even though this fight was the big one, he is a very insufferable men and that he gets on your nerves really often.

You try to kick him, punch him and everything to free from his grip, but you end up crying.

"Why can't you trust me."

"Cause I am an idiot who doesn't see thing the right way, and I am sorry for that and i won't balme you if you want to leave".

"I won't leave, but right now i want to be alone."

He noded and kissed your forehead, leaving you alone and waiting for you to come back to him.

[morlock-holmes]

The Conspiratorial Mindset

So, I've always had a bit of an interest in scams and hokum, and what people call "Cults".

One of the common refrains when you talk about religious Cults is, "If you think about it all religions have beliefs that seem odd to outsiders" and this is true, but as I read more about cults I started to think,

"Wait, a lot of these groups aren't united just by having unusual religious or supernatural views; a lot of them also seem to have matching patterns of behaviors that have nothing to do with belief in psychic space aliens"

I'm talking about things like,

Having a leadership structure which is absolute, where the top leaders cannot be disciplined or even openly criticized by lower members;

Exerting tremendous control over the dress and behavior of adherents;

Telling adherents that outsiders are untrustworthy and that contact with outsiders should be strictly limited and heavily monitored by organizational leadership;

The extensive and common use of shunning and reprogramming in response to violation of any of the above rules.

In some groups, failing to adhere to the dress code and spending a lot of time with outsiders is, at worst, the subject of a few little jabs at family gatherings. In other groups, those same behaviors are treated as Defcon one crises and become the central issue of the adherent's relationship with everybody else in the organization until they can be bullied back into doing the organization's bidding.

It was gratifying to learn that other people have noticed these patterns (Some people prefer the term "High Control Group" to "Cult" because it highlights what the actual problem is)

I am starting to notice similar dynamics in what are commonly called "Conspiracy theories".

The thing about conspiracy theories is... Well, conspiracies exist, and sometimes groups of powerful people get together to do something in secret which would get them in big trouble if they were to do it openly.

But I am starting to notice a particular, I don't know, a particular way of conceptualizing the organization and purpose of conspiracies which is unique to some people and which characterizes the kind of conspiracy theorist who takes Alex Jones seriously.

I kind of think of it as a "Witch-Hunting mentality".

For certain people in more primitive times and places, if they, say, slipped off a ladder and hurt themselves, their first thought would be, "That must have happened because a witch cursed me. We need to find and punish the witch who cursed me."

And this isn't just the attribution of malice that characterizes this idea:

One malicious conspiracy that might make you fall off a ladder is a manufacturer who doesn't care about safety ratings. Imagine that the manufacturer is really deliberately malicious here. A subordinate comes to him and says, "Our ladders can't reliably hold the weight of a person and a lot of them will probably break and cause people to fall and hurt themselves." and he says, "I know that but who cares, by the time people figure it out it'll be too late to get their money back."

That's a malicious conspiracy, but, importantly, if Bob buys a faulty ladder and falls off, the conspiracy wasn't trying to hurt Bob; it merely didn't care whether Bob got hurt.

Now, this distinction doesn't take away the malice and hostility towards Bob, but if you go to the ladder manufacturer and say, "Hey boss, Bob bought one of our faulty ladders, but he's really skinny so the ladder didn't break" the manufacturer will go, "Who the fuck is Bob? And good, that's one less angry person."

Whereas imagine Bob's ladder has been cursed to break by a witch. The witch did it because she hates Bob, and wants him to fall, and if she finds out he didn't fall, she'll go, "Curses, I'll have to find some other way to hurt Bob."

Conspiracy theorists, it seems to me, are far more inclined to conceptualize conspiracies as acts of deliberate malice aimed at them rather than acts of negligent malice.

@loving-n0t-heyting posted this article from the New York Post which contains a good example of what I mean:

“I thought I was on the cutting edge of promoting rights for gay people,” Yang said. “But then I started looking deeper into where this was coming from and who was paying for it, and I started to get very disillusioned...

I assume the people paying for it are LGBT advocacy groups? Did you, uh, not know that the people you were working for were paying you to work for them?

“When you really dig down you can see how much of this comes from documents and plans at the United Nations,” Yang said, referring in part to the UN’s “Gender Equality” initiative. “It’s part of a global agenda to restructure society, re-structure our social norms and the economy,” Yang claimed. “They are undermining the sexually dimorphic nature of reality and breaking down the differences between the sexes to break down our identity. They are constructing identities for us and they want us to adopt them.”

Oh, I see.

This is exactly what I mean. LGBT rights efforts make Yang and others feel disoriented, like society is being restructured and that they are being left behind, like they aren't quite in control of social norms and that stable identity categories can't be relied on anymore.

Now, one kind of conservative might look at that and say, "These are bad second order effects of LGBT people trying to assert their lifestyle in public and that's why we should oppose them."

But another kind says, "These changes make me feel unstable. Therefore, the main purpose of the changes is to make me feel unstable. In order to understand these changes, I need to figure out who wants me to feel unstable and what they would gain from making me feel unstable."

The idea that Yang's feeling of instability is simply a side effect of a series of efforts mainly focused on LGBT rights is incomprehensible. Instead, she believes that there is a series of efforts focused mainly on making her feel unstable, with LGBT rights as a kind of side effect to the main goal of making her feel unstable.

This kind of thing is, to me, a big red flag that indicates that we are starting to float away from reasonable conspiracy thinking into crazy town.

I am particularly curious if folks can recommend any writers or researchers who have noticed this dynamic.

[oaksgrove]

hi love! I hope you're doing alright ♡

im here to request a tiny, little angsty piece. I can picture John being so, so tired from work that he just can't stand being touched, but his beloved needs it so badly, so they go for it (holding his hand) —don't get them wrong, they always ask! but they also had a bad day. John snaps, accidentally smacking their hand away.

little angst, with John comforting withdrawn neurodivergent reader after he accidentally snaps at them, which turns into them comforting each other because "you're tired - no, you are tired", until John moves to seek their touch himself

Tired.

Pairing: John Price x Neurodivergent!Reader

Synopsis: Some days are too much. Too loud, too bright, too sharp. When the world presses in, you don’t need grand gestures. You just need John to understand.

Warning: Sensory overload, brief miscommunication/startled response, hurt/comfort, soft reconciliation

The kettle was screaming again.

High-pitched. Piercing. It had only just started, but it dragged across your nerves like nails on glass. You stood frozen in the doorway of the kitchen, jumper sleeves stretched down past your hands and gripped tight in your fists.

It was just a kettle.

But it wasn’t.

The hallway light was flickering again, same as yesterday, the bulb stuttering in the corner of your vision. The drawer next to the stove was open again—your carefully organized cutlery now out of order, one large spoon stuffed awkwardly into the teaspoon slot like a mistake you couldn’t fix. And the boots—

Thud. Thud. Thud.

John’s heavy steps across the kitchen floor, back and forth, back and forth like a pacing bear in a too-small cage. He was muttering again, voice low but rough with frustration.

“Fucking brass—changing the op schedule last minute—bloody nightmare—”

You winced.

You weren’t scared of him. Never had been. But the noise, the pressure, the weight of it all pressing down around your shoulders—it was too much today. Too loud. Too bright. Too off.

You didn’t even realize you’d whispered his name until his voice cut through the air, sharp and fast.

“What?” he snapped, turning with a furrowed brow, hand half-raised in mid-gesture.

It wasn’t loud. Not really.

But it cracked something in you.

Your whole body stiffened. Like a rubber band stretched too thin. Your shoulders drew up high and your chin tucked down, sleeves clenched in your fists, throat closing up.

John stopped.

Instantly.

His face changed—brows falling, mouth parting with regret blooming like a bruise behind his eyes.

“Shit—no, love—wait—” he stepped toward you quickly, one hand out, then hesitated, hovering like he didn’t want to crowd you. “I didn’t mean that. Christ, I’m sorry.”

You said nothing. You looked down.

And that was somehow worse.

“I was just—” he started again, then cut himself off with a frustrated sound, softer this time. “Fuck, I was bein’ a right bastard.”

You shook your head. “It’s fine.”

“It’s not,” he said.

You tried to breathe. The room felt too big and too tight all at once. The kettle shrieked one last time before clicking off. Still too late.

“I didn’t mean to be in your way,” you murmured. “I didn’t mean to interrupt. I just—everything’s loud today. I didn’t want to make it worse.”

John stared at you. His mouth twitched like he was about to argue—but then he caught himself. He crouched a little in front of you instead, like he was trying to shrink himself. His voice lowered.

“You’re not makin’ it worse. I am,” he admitted. “I know when I get like this—loud, angry—I make things heavier. And you’re carryin’ too much as it is.”

You didn’t answer. Not right away.

Just tried to unknot your fingers from your sleeves.

“I don’t always have the words,” you said finally, voice thin. “Some days I just… can’t talk properly. Or explain why everything feels so sharp.”

John’s gaze dropped to your hands, your tight shoulders, the way you were trying so hard to regulate even as your body rebelled against the room.

“You don’t have to explain,” he said. “Not to me.”

You looked at him. A flicker of disbelief passed across your face.

“I’m not good at being…” you trailed off. “Easy. Or quiet. Or normal.”

John’s throat bobbed with a hard swallow.

“I didn’t marry you because I wanted normal,” he said. “I married you because you feel like home.”

A beat of silence. The flickering light still buzzed. But it felt dimmer now—like the world had shifted, just slightly, around him.

“You’re tired,” you said softly. “You’ve been pacing since you got back.”

His mouth tugged into a wry smile. “No, you’re tired.”

You blinked. “Okay. We’re both tired.”

He huffed a warm, half-laugh. Then—very carefully—he leaned his forehead against your chest. Not heavy, just enough for you to feel the quiet weight of him.

“You always let me come back,” he said, voice barely above a whisper. “Even when I act like a grumpy sod.”

Your hand came up without thinking. Just resting gently in his hair. Fingers threading through the soft, short strands at his crown.

“I love you,” you said quietly. “Even when you’re a grumpy sod.”

He exhaled. His arms wrapped around your waist.

“I’m sorry for snapping,” he murmured. “Sorry for making today harder.”

“You didn’t,” you whispered. “You just startled me. That’s all.”

You held each other for a long while—standing in the middle of the kitchen, kettle off, boots stilled, lights flickering quietly above. Nothing had changed. But everything had softened.

And when John eventually pulled back to press a kiss to your forehead, he didn’t say anything more.

He just reached over, finally closed the drawer the proper way, and turned off the light.

“C’mon, love,” he said gently. “Let’s go sit down. I’ll make you tea.”

taglist: @honestlymassivetrash @pythonmoth @kittygonap @rainyjellybear @anonymouse1807 @twoandahalfdimes

[wordsofwhimsy]

𝙇𝙤𝙫𝙚𝙧𝙗𝙤𝙮

Pairing: Lensless!Mark Grayson x Reader

Warning: Violence

Inspiration: “Loverboy” by A-Wall

—synopsis—

you break up with Mark and he absolutely loses his shit

a/n: i keep thinking about the turning point for all the variants, the moment when they finally go full psycho. this is my take on how it went down for the most unhinged of the bunch 😛 if y’all like this idea i might do the same setup for some of the other variants c: also can someone tell me how to center shit? i can't stand the way this photo is aligned to the left

Mark Grayson stood there, staring at his phone like it was some kind of strange, foreign object. The message from you, the words that had just shattered his world, danced in front of his eyes, flickering and mocking him.

We need to break up. I can’t do this anymore.

He blinked, once, twice—hoping the words would change. But no, they stayed there, taunting him. We need to break up. I can’t do this anymore. Over and over. His mind spun, his heart dropped. The world felt like it was suddenly tilting sideways.

No, no, no, he thought, shaking his head, trying to make sense of it. This can’t be happening. He had fought aliens. He had stopped monsters. He had beaten back threats from across the universe—and yet, here he was, powerless, staring at a screen.

His hands started to shake. He dropped the phone, watching it crack on the floor.

Why?

The question echoed in his head, over and over again. Why? What had he done wrong? He was Invincible, wasn’t he? He had saved the world. He had fought for the good of everyone… And you just throw it all away?

He couldn’t breathe. His chest tightened. The suffocating pressure, the sting of betrayal—it all built up, bubbling beneath the surface.

But I’m not enough, am I? His voice, in his head, started to change—warped. Bitter. Angry. The hero, the one who always stood tall, suddenly felt small. No one was there to save him. Not you. Not anyone. Everyone had left him to stand alone, even when he gave everything for them.

His eyes darkened. His teeth clenched. The anger… it was coming. The rage, the darkness—it was pulling at him like a tidal wave.

Maybe it was time to stop pretending.

The phone rang. It was his father—Omni-Man. The same man who had told him all those awful truths about the world. The one who had turned everything upside down.

Mark didn’t even bother to answer. No one could save him anymore. Not his father. Not anyone.

His fists clenched, and the room around him started to crack. He could feel it—the power surging through his body, the rage making him tremble. Every muscle in him screamed for release.

They all leave eventually. He thought of you. Of how you’d just thrown him away like a broken toy. It was sickening. He could feel it crawling under his skin—like something was snapping inside him.

I tried. I really tried to be good, to do everything right, but it never mattered, did it? Now? Now the world was his playground. They all wanted him to break. And they would get exactly what they wanted.

He stepped outside, shot into the air with charged energy, the world below him nothing but a blur of lights and noise. He needed this. Wanted it. It was the only thing that felt real anymore. He could hear the people below, terrified. They had no idea. They had no idea what he was about to become.

Mark grinned. It was a twisted, manic grin—a grin that didn’t belong on the face of the boy who had once been a hero.

“I did everything for you.” He muttered to himself, his voice thick with insanity. He floated over the city, his eyes gleaming with something darker than hate. “Everything. For you. And you—” He laughed, an unhinged, breathless sound that filled the empty space. “You don’t even care, do you?”

The city trembled beneath him, a test, a challenge.

He didn’t want to stop. He didn’t need to. In fact… it felt good. No, it felt great.

With a violent snap of his wrist, the skyline cracked, buildings folding under his power. People screamed below him, running, hiding.

“Oh, don’t worry!” Mark called out, his voice light and playful, as if this was just another game. “It’s not the end. Not yet, anyway. We’ve got all night, right?”

He paused, letting the devastation sink in. The city was crumbling, and he was loving every second of it. He hovered there, savoring it, as the world around him burned.

Hours later, the night was still. The destruction was only a whisper now, the silence hanging in the air like a promise. Mark flew through the streets, his mind buzzing with a strange kind of glee. His thoughts were chaotic, but one thing was clear.

He knew where you were.

Mark floated toward your house, the familiar street now a place of twisted anticipation. It was so quiet. Too quiet.

He could see your lights on through the window. He could hear your heartbeat, faint but steady, inside.

A manic grin spread across his face. He didn’t need to think anymore. It was all so simple now. The game was changing. The stakes? Well, they were everything.

Mark landed gently on the lawn, the grass bending under his feet. He didn’t knock. He didn’t have to.

He could feel the power surging through him, making his skin hum with excitement. He was a bomb ready to explode, and you were the fuse.

“You know,” he said, voice dripping with dark amusement as he slowly approached the door, his steps heavy, controlled. “I thought maybe I’d let you see what happens next. But I think it’ll be more fun if you feel it.” He grinned, twisted, and so full of madness.

The door creaked open, just a crack. He leaned in, his eyes glowing with a dangerous light.

“Oh, don’t worry. I’ll enjoy this. Not so sure about you though.”

And with that, the door flew open, the shadows swallowing the light from inside.

Part Two!

[zoe-oneesama]

If its okay to ask what exactly is the issue with Chloe's writing in the show for you? The creators have stated multiple times "there will be no redemption, she's rotten to the core and she's gonna stay that way" and it seems like thats what you want from her. So where exactly do they fumble the bag for you?

Mostly the part where they wasted everyone's time.

They tried to play both sides - kept her as nasty and self centered as always and did nothing to change her, but also make multiple episodes where we're meant to feel sorry for her and the heroine is portrayed as In The Wrong for being too harsh on her. It was annoying.

Like, it was just...tonally confusing at the time. It's totally in character for her to "steal" a Miraculous and not give it back when the rightful owner demands it back, being a thief was never outside of Chloe's wheelhouse. So tell me why they had the heroes give her soft woobie eyes and make excuses for her on the grounds of "you just wanted Mommy to look at you" and frame it like that's correct??????

And then, AND THEN, after wasting everyone's goddamn time trying to pretend they were doing something deep with Chloe, they didn't just double down on her being a two-bit one dimensional mean girl and tried to pretend like they didn't devote multiple episodes to convincing the audience she was more than that, but they wrote her to be even more comically evil as if to drive the knife even deeper! You can't help but read into their motivations, it feels like they're doing it to target certain fans specifically. "Oh you liked Chloe and wanted her to be redeemed? What if we ANTI-REDEEMED HER?! And now she's somehow more evil than our abusive magical terrorist! BWAHAHAHA!" Like?????? The Fuck?????

There's a moment in Season 5's "Collusion" where Bustier brings up the gift Chloe got her at the end of "Zombizou", doing this speech about how she recognized that Chloe was just a fragile teenager looking for love and attention (the EXACT THING that Season 2 spent a multi-episode arc trying to convince their audience of) only for Chloe to snap back that Bustier is using her student's feelings to "blackmail" her in that moment and uses this as grounds to get the woman fired.

And I feel like that really encapsulates the frustration I have at specifically the staff behind Miraculous Ladybug when it comes to Chloe.

Here is Chloe mocking Bustier for reading into what happened in "Zombizou" and instead it feels like the viewer is being mocked. Everyone who thought they were going somewhere with Chloe, everyone who bought what they were selling, everyone who's time was fucking wasted, is being laughed at in this moment.

Look, I never bought into Chloe being redeemed, so my personal annoyance was this dilly-dallying through this random side quest that amounted to nothing, which is a constant in this damn show. But, and I know this might be hard for some to believe, I had deep deep sympathy and empathy for fans who really thought and really wanted for the Battle of the Queens Arc to amount to something. I am so, so angry for them, because every season finds a way to not only stab you all in the back but twist the knife.

So yeah, that's my "issue".

[goldfades]

𝐍𝐎𝐓 𝐀𝐍 𝐀𝐒𝐒; 𝐉𝐔𝐒𝐓 𝐏𝐀𝐒𝐒𝐈𝐎𝐍𝐀𝐓𝐄 ─ PB⁵

౨ৎ ─ summary | request -> "oh my gosh, paige bueckers x uconn wbb athletic trainer intern with a situation at a game where paige gets a bloody nose (like the uconn vs seton hall) and paige like refusing to get cleaned up and reader like commands.. (i feel so silly typing this) but basically forces paige to let reader clean her up and the internet GOES CRAZY BC OF THE WAY UR HOLDING PAIGES FACE AND THE CLEAR TENSION BETWEEN YOU TWO (reader and paige can be like friends with clear sexual tension or secret relationship whatever u like girl pop 😛)"

─ word count | 1.7k

─ warnings | friends with tension type shit!!!!! mention of aggressive playing, paige being slightly mean (due to her being frustrated), descriptions of blood noses, kissing and making up,

─ ev's notes | i saw that video and IMMEDIATELY saved it to camera roll, i am so down bad

THE GAME WAS going pretty well up until the second half, everyone was playing aggressive and obviously, that was when people got hurt.

Usually, Paige tried her best to stay out of trouble. But tonight was different, these players were too cocky for their own good and Paige knew she had to humble them really quick.

As the second half kicked off, Paige felt a surge of determination. She dribbled past defenders with profencity, her moves as smooth as silk. As Paige drove towards the basket, weaving through defenders, one player decided to play dirty. With a swift elbow to the face, Paige staggered backward, feeling a sharp pain erupt in her nose.

Blood gushed from her nostrils, staining her jersey crimson. For a moment, the gym fell silent as everyone watched in shock. But Paige refused to let the pain stop her. She wiped away the blood, her determination burning brighter than ever.

Paige's frustration bubbled over, but she knew arguing with the referee wouldn't change the call. With a heavy sigh, she begrudgingly made her way to the bench, her jaw clenched with pent-up anger.

Paige stormed to the bench, her nostrils still dripping with blood. She clenched her fists, struggling to rein in her anger as you, the team medic, made your way toward her. She caught your worried gaze as she got up from the bench, pacing as she kept arguing with, you really weren't sure at this point.

Her teammates exchanged worried glances, knowing that Paige's fiery temper could sometimes get the best of her. But they also understood her frustration. They had felt the sting of unfair calls and dirty plays themselves.

"I'll put you back in when I know you're hot hurt and angry," Geno urged, his tone firm. "We can't afford to lose you to a technical foul or worse."

"I'm fine," she mumbled as she sent her coach a glare. You tried to dap the blood on her face with a towel but she moved her head away, her stubbornness getting the best of her. "I'm fine, for God's sake," her voice came out annoyed as she gripped your arm, pushing you away.

You felt a rush of frustration and something else — something you couldn't quite name — as Paige pushed you away, her grip on your arm firm but fleeting. It wasn't the first time her stubbornness had grated on your nerves, but there was something different about the way she looked at you, the way she touched you.

"Hey, look at me." You spoke sternly, only to be ignored. "Hey, I'm the damn medic and I'm telling you to sit the hell down so I can get you back out there, do you get that? Or you can't hear me now?"

When she ignored you for the second time, your patience with her finally snapped. You grabbed her arm and pulled her into the bench, gripping her face as you began cleaning up the blood on her face.

Paige's annoyance was evident as she glared up at you, but didn't say another word. She knew how you got when she didn't listen to you and she didn't wanna feel your wrath right about now. However, she just couldn't keep her mouth shut.

"Would you just lay off already?" she snapped, her voice sharp with frustration as she jerked her face away from your touch. "I don't need you bossing me around like some child."

"You're acting a fucking child, you need to relax and trust your teammates." You snapped back, Paige's eyebrows furrowing in anger as she let you continue clean her up.

As you wiped away the blood, your movements were firm yet gentle, your touch a silent reassurance that despite your clash, you were still there for her. And though Paige remained stubbornly silent, her gaze softened ever so slightly as she watched you work.

"Paige, I just want what's best for you," you said softly, your voice barely above a whisper as you reached out to brush a strand of hair from her face. "I know you're strong, but even the strongest of us need help sometimes."

Paige's gaze softened, her anger dissipating quickly. She sighed, closing her eyes for a moment to regain her thoughts ─ she knew that you were her soft spot, a place of comfort and understanding in a world that often felt overwhelming.

As she opened her eyes, she found herself gazing into yours, a warmth spreading through her chest at the sight of your familiar face. With a sigh, Paige leaned into your touch, a silent admission of acceptance.

"I know, I'm sorry for snapping at you," Paige murmured, her voice soft.

You nodded in understanding, your gaze never leaving hers. "I get it," you replied, your voice gentle as you continued to brush her hair back from her face.

You finished up cleaning her nose and she sighed, her shoulders relaxing as the last of the tension seemed to drain from her body. As you finished cleaning her nose, Paige let out a deep sigh, the weight of her earlier outburst lifting from her shoulders.

"Thanks," she said softly, her voice filled with gratitude as she met your gaze. "I appreciate it."

You smiled, a warmth spreading through your chest at her words. "Of course, Paige," you replied, your voice gentle as you tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear. "I'm just glad you're okay."

But before she could respond, she heard her coach call out for her. She gave you a quick smile as she jogged up to Geno, her steps lighter now that the tension had been lifted. You watched her go with a sense of relief, glad to see her back.

As Paige jogged up to Geno, you couldn't help but admire the way she carried herself with confidence.

──

"Hey," Paige's voice rang out in the empty medical room as you glanced back at her with a smile, your head turning back to the task at hand as you heard Paige's footsteps toward you.

"Hi," you replied, your fingertips stretching as you attempted to reach the tissue box perched on the top shelf. Paige let out a soft laugh as she reached over your shoulder, effortlessly grabbing the tissues and passing them to you.

You blushed under her gaze, your fingers brushing against hers for a brief moment as you took the box. "Thank you, P."

The warmth of her touch sent a shiver down your spine, a sensation you couldn't quite shake as you turned back to the task at hand. Paige smiled back, her eyes sparkling with amusement as she leaned against the counter beside you.

"No problem," she replied, her voice soft but filled with amusement. "So about the game..."

"Don't worry about it, it was in the heat of the moment." You answered quickly as you glanced back the blonde. You could see the guilt in her expression as her gaze lingered on yours, a flicker of regret dancing in her eyes. But before you could say anything else, Paige spoke up, her voice tinged with sincerity.

"I'm really sorry for snapping at you earlier," she said, her tone earnest as she met your gaze. "I know I can be a handful sometimes, especially when I'm worked up."

You smiled, a wave of understanding washing over you at her words. "It's okay, really," you replied gently, your voice soft but reassuring. "And I know how to handle you when you get like that, and I know you didn't mean it."

Paige's lips turned upward as she heard you talk, her shoulders relaxing visibly as a sense of relief washed over her. "Thanks for putting up with me, even when I'm being a bitch."

You let a small laugh as you shook your head, looking back at the blonde with a sense adoration. You felt your stomach do a flip as you met Paige's gaze, a warmth spreading through your chest at her words.

"Hey, you're not an ass," you replied, your voice filled with genuine affection. "You're just passionate, and I admire that about you."

"Oh come on, you don't have to get all professional on me now." Paige joked as she gazed at you.

You shook your head, sincerity in your voice as you spoke. "No, I'm being honest. Seriously, that's one of the million other things I admire about you," you spoke softly as Paige's amused expression dissipated into a soft one.

You felt the atmosphere shift slight as Paige gazed back at you, you thought your heart was going to jump out of your chest with how fast it was beating.

Paige leaned closer before she spoke, her voice much softer than before. "Thank you," she whispered, her voice barely audible above the soft hum of the room. "That means a lot to me, coming from you."

You felt your breath catch in your throat as Paige leaned even closer, the air between you crackling with an electric intensity that left you both breathless. With a soft smile, she reached out to gently brush a strand of hair from your face, her touch lingering as you savored the closeness to Paige.

Paige's hand cupped your cheek as she leaned in slowly, her lips barely touching yours in an almost-kiss. She then pushed your lips into hers, sending a jolt of electricity coursing through you as your lips met in a sweet, tentative kiss. The world seemed to fall away around you, leaving only the warmth of Paige's touch and the gentle press of her lips against yours.

With a soft sigh, you melted into the kiss, your hands finding their way to Paige's hair as you pulled her closer, your heart pounding in your chest with a wild abandon. As the kiss deepened, you found yourself lost in the sensation, the taste of Paige's lips against yours intoxicating and exhilarating all at once.

In that moment, time seemed to stand still as you lost yourself in the sweetness of the kiss, the softness of Paige's lips against your own filling you with a sense of warmth and longing that you had never known before.

When you finally pulled away, breathless and dizzy with emotion, you found yourself gazing into Paige's eyes, the depth of her gaze reflecting the same feelings swirling within your own.

"Wow," Paige whispered, her voice barely above a murmur as she leaned her forehead against yours, her breath warm against your skin. "I've been wanting to do that for a long time."

You smiled, a rush of joy and relief flooding through you at Paige's words. "Me too," you admitted softly. With a soft smile, you reached out to take Paige's hand in yours, the warmth of her touch sending a surge of warmth through you.

↳ make sure to check out my navigation or masterlist if you enjoyed! any interaction is greatly appreciated !

↳ thank you for reading all the way through, as always ♡

[scorpioriesling]

Can you make one where y/n is xaden's sister (obviously) and she is in a relationship with garrick (which xaden approves of) and they both got into a fight because Garrick is too strict in his role of being Xaden's right hand man and also violets new appointed bodyguard and doesn't give her enough time (she's also pregnant and she's hiding it from all of them) and one day there will be a slip up and Xaden is the first to find out she's pregnant. You can make it however you like from here

Can you make it super angsty in the beginning and a very fluffy ending?? Please (not being anonymous because you already know I am going to make a request lol)

Go Easy On Me

･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *

Pairing(s): Garrick x reader

Warning(s): angst, fluff, mentions of pregnancy and violence

Summary: You didn't figure your brother's girlfriend would turn to you with the bigges secret of her life; but, you knew from that point on, you'd do what needed to be done to protect her and it.

SR’s Note: Guys this turned out so FKN CUTE OMG, who knew I could still write things other than just smut? All jokes, all jokes; but seriously, you're gonna love this one. Maybe not as much as me though.

Tags: @mellowmusings @rcarbo1 @lilah-asteria @kitsunetori @velarisdusk @nctsawrus @lreadsstuff @freakishfandomfiend @desprrssooo-espresssooooo

(inbox me or comment if you'd like to be added!)

･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *

Your brow furrowed as you approached the training room, hearing thr loud shouting from inside. Pushing the door open, you realized it was more grunting than shouting; and sure enough, it was coming from just who you thought.

"Harder, Sorrengail!"

You watched as your brother's girlfriend threw another punch at your boyfriend, who stood more than an entire head taller than her. Her clenched fist connected with his gloved hands, and the sound of skin-meeting-mat echoed in the otherwise empty training room.

"You're not using your upper body. You have to use your upper body like I told you-"

"I'm using all I've got!"

You flinched as her angry words filled the space, raising your eyebrows at her defiance. You swallowed, only anticipating what your boyfriend would say next to her. You figured he'd get all moody, like he always did; but, instead, he just sighed and lowered his mits.

"We'll resume tomorrow." He said, his chin dipping as he yanked the gloves off. Violet's shoulders shook as she inhaled, over and over as though she was gasping for air. You gazed on pitifully as she stalked off the mat, only now noticing you leaned up against the wall.

"Riorson," she greeted, and you smiled casually.

"Sorrengail." She sighed, and you flicked your eyes toward the hallway. "Do we need to chat?"

Her eyes widened before she nodded, pressing open the door to the hall. You glanced back at Garrick, then followde her out when you confirmed he was still putting training equipment away.

She walked a few feet from the training room entrance and sighed, leaning against the wall. Your mouth turned down as you anxiously waited for her to start talking.

"I'm so glad you always listen to me ramble," she began, setting her hands on her knees and leaning forward. "Not that Xaden isn't a good listener, but... he just has no idea."

You allow her to finish before you speak.

"Hey, I mean... I totally get it. I grew up with the guy," you chuckle. She looks up, her eyes meeting yours as you continue. "But, that doesn't mean he can't be talked to."

She nods. "Right, right."

You wait a few beats before pressing further. "Is there... something you need to talk about?"

She lets out a long breath as her thumb and forefinger move to pinch the bridge of her nose.

"Well... yes. There is one thing."

✧･ﾟ: *

You met up with Garrick after he left the training room, opting to walk back with him to his dorm instead of facing boredom in your own. You'd always preferred his dorm to your own; his was more spacious, darker in color, and without a roommate.

"I'm just saying she needs to listen if she's going to be ready for battle," he drones on, and for what feels like the hundredth time, you roll your eyes.

"Garrick, I get it -- as her bodyguard, and Xaden's right hand man, you want her to perform at a certain level-"

"Yeah, a level I know she can get to. You did -- why should it be any different for her?" He says, looking sidelong at you. The setting sun cast and orangey glow across the panes of his face, and you couldn't help but admire.

After a few beats of silence, you made sure to choose your words carefully.

"Garrick; I appreciate all you do, and so does my brother -- and I think you know that," you say, your fingers reaching for his as you continue the walk. "All I'm saying is... we never know what people have going on in their personal lives, so, maybe... cut her some slack?"

He huffs a laugh, his fingers squeezing and releasing yours.

"What else would she have going on right now? There's so much work to be done in preparation; and I don't think your brother hired me to 'take it easy' on his girlfriend," he argued. You sighed, dropping his hand in favor of crossing your arms. "What, did he tell you something I should know about?"

You turned to him and glared. "No, he did not -- and even if he did, it wouldn't be my place to air it all out to you. You're his friend and Violet's bodyguard -- not mine."

You stomped angrily toward the dorm building, your brooding boyfriend trailing behind. When you reached the entrance, your fingers closed arond the door handle, and Garrick's fingers gently laid atop yours on it.

"No, I'm not your bodyguard," he said softly. You turned to face him, and your heart clenched at his pained expression. "But, I am your boyfriend, and I'd protect you as though I was."

✧･ﾟ: *

"Riorson, let's go."

Professor Emmetario called you forward, and you awaited the announcement of your personal trainer for the day. Usually, he'd partner you and Imogen -- but, with her gone on a mission, you were curious who you'd get.

"Tavis, take the mat."

Your brows rose as your boyfriend stalked toward you, a surprised expression on his face.

"Bit of a conflict of interest, but... I'll allow it this once." Emmetario gave you a knowing smile, and you simply shrugged.

It was quiet for a few moments, you and your boyfriend gazing at one another. The only sounds around you were the other older cadets training with the younger ones. He broke the silence a few beats later.

"I suppose we'll start with daggers this morning," he said. You smirked.

"Oh come on, Garrick -- give me a challenge."

He rolled his eyes.

"Just grab what you need and don't sass me, Riorson. Gods, you sound so much like your brother."

A smile crept onto your face at that as you took a few of your favorite blades from the rack, making your way toward the target boards. Flipping a few over in your hands, you glanced sidelong at Garrick.

"No Violet, today?" Usually, Emmetario would keep training partners the same; the only real difference today were a few riders missing that had gone on the mission. Garrick shrugged.

"She told me this morning she needed to stay in bed; sick or something," he guessed. Your heart sank as you remembered what she'd discussed with you last week, her secret she entrusted you with. Your breathing hollowed as you worked to maintain your composure; but, as always, your boyfriend clocked that something was off.

"Is everything okay?" He asks softly, moving to stand directly before you. "Because if there's something I need to know-"

"No! No Garrick, it's fine." You said sharply. He flinched as though you'd just slapped him, his brows narrowing before he took a deep breath.

"Fine, fine. But you know if there is something... Xaden did trust me to look after her while he's gone. So... if there is something I should know, you need to tell me." He said sternly. You nudged his chest, recentering yourself before the human-shaped targets ahead.

"Right, yeah -- can I get to throwing these now?" You said. Garrick leveled a look at you before sucking in a large gust of air, moving aside to allow you to throw.

"Have at it."

The first two daggers hit on either side of the target's chest, but you began to lose focus as you attempted to aim for the shape's stomach.

Violet. Violet. Violet.

Your brow furrowed as you launched the blade, however it struck just outside the body's outline. Sighing, you threw another.

Miss.

And another.

Miss again.

You growled in frustration as you trudged toward the targets, bending to yank the sharps from the wood. When you returned back to your position, Garrick pushed off the wall and walked up to you.

"I see you're having struggles," he said calmly, his abdomen pressing against your back. His hands slid down your arms to cover your fingers with his, gripping the blade as one.

"You'll want to keep your arm close to you when you throw," he explained, drawing your arm back with his. "And, keep your core engaged so your aim rings true."

Your breathing hitched as his other hand wrapped around your midsection, pressing against your lower stomach. You were pressed flat against him now; and even after all this time, the feeling still gave you butterflies.

"Alright, draw back..." he pulled your arm up.

"And, release."

You flung the dagger, and sure enough -- it landed right in the center of the target. He chuckled, leaning down to kiss your forehead. You felt a pang of excitement, but your stomach sank when you thought about Violet again.

"Nice!" He congradulated, his hands releasing you. He backed up, playfully swatting your butt before folding his muscled arms over his chest. Your head swiveled to look at him in shock, but he only grinned at you.

"Garrick!"

"Now you try," he encouraged, his gaze only faltering from your face for a second as his gaze ran over the length of your body. You scowled, though your mind had fully come back to the present.

"If I keep getting this treatment," you taunted. "Maybe I'll mess up every time."

He rolled his eyes, shaking his head as a small smile spread across his lips. You liked seeing him like this; happy, unassuming, calm. Such an opposition to the usually tough and demanding demeanor he used with Violet.

You reared your arm back, breath wooshing from you when you let go of the handle. Sure enough -- the blade splintered the wood right alongside your previous throw.

Garrick nodded in approval, clapping loudly twice.

"Now that's my girl."

✧･ﾟ: *

Garrick paced back and forth in his dorm as he awaited Xaden's arrival. You could tell he was anxious; but, no matter how many times you tried to get him to sit beside you on the bed, he declined.

"He's gonna be pissed. Surely pissed," he mumbled, his fingers rubbing his chin. You sighed, running your fingers through your undone braid.

"You don't know that," you said softly. Garrick glanced at you, huffing.

"He left me in charge of Violet for the time being, and she's spent more time alone in her dorm than training and preparing like he asked for," he rants, his steps increading in speed. "Not to mention, it's been going on for weeks now. So yeah... I'm sure your brother will be more than pissed off."

In that moment, the door to the slepeing quarters opened. Your brother stood in the doorway, the light bending around him as he stepped through. You instantly hopped from the bed, trotting over and throwing your arms around your big brother.

"Xaden!" You chirped excitedly as he squeezed you with enough force to crush your ribs. "I'm so glad you're okay."

He pulled back, smiling grimly.

"Physically I am more than alright -- it was being out on the isle for a month and a half that did me in," he explained, running a hand through his hair.

"Bet you got a nice tan though, didn't you?" Garrick teased, and Xaden quickly crossed the room to him. He pulled him in, clapping him on the back as he laughed.

"Oh, the best tan," he joked back, and you re-took your position on Garrick's bed. Your brother glanced around the room, leveling a confused look on his best friend.

"Say... where's Vi?"

Garrick's brows knit in confusion.

"You haven't seen her yet?"

Xaden's face went placid.

"No... figured she'd be here. With you."

Garrick sighed, rubbing a hand over his face.

"Well, that's actually what I needed to talk to you about."

Xaden's brow rose a fraction of an inch, and he folded his arms.

"So talk. Did something happen to her?"

Garrick laughed dryly. "I thought maybe you'd know -- don't you guys have that, weird, mind-to-mind thing?"

Xaden huffed, beginning to pace himself.

"Yeah, but it's been cut off for weeks. Being outside the wards didn't help, but she definately has her shields up... I haven't been able to figure out why," he explains. Garrick shrugs, shaking his head.

"I don't know man, she's been hiding out in her room, missing classes and training, and-"

"Wait. She's been missing classes?" Xaden asks, alarm creeping into his voice. "What the Hell do you mean?"

Garrick shrugs. "Exactly what I just said. She's been sleeping more, not coming to training days, barely leaving her dorm-"

"And you didn't think any of this was worthy of telling me?" Your brothers voice rose in octive as he halted his pacing. Garrick tutted.

"How was I supposed to get that message to you when you were outside the wards?" Garrick asked in exasperation. "If you recall, I dont have a mind-to-mind pathway like you and Violet do; I'm not linked to you in that way, thank God." He muttered the last part. You hopped off the bed when Xaden grabbed his bets friend by the shirt collar, getting in his face.

"I don't give a fuck how you got it to me, I should've known that-"

"Hey! Stop, stop," you interjected, wiggling between the two in an attempt at a separation. Xaden's grip on Garrick loosened a bit, but Garrick stared back at him with nothing short of unfiltered rage. You put both hands on your brother's chest, shoving him back to a point where he was forced to release his hold on Garrick. He staggered to regain his balance, still glaring at your brother.

You turned to him, peering up into those usually wonderful brown eyes.

"Garrick, hey -- let me try and talk to him for a second, okay?"

Garrick's face softened as he looked down at you, the warmth returning to his hard stare. You brushed your fingers along his forearm, and pressed onto your tip toes to kiss his cheek.

"Just give me a few minutes?"

He sighed, shaking his head slowly before agreeing.

"Fine. But I'll be just outside."

You nodded as he stalked toward the door, yanking it open while he grumbled and griped about being kicked out of his own dorm. Xaden however, regained a leash on his rage, masking it in his usual lethal calm.

Turning to him, you sighed.

"Did you really feel the need to do all that?"

He scoffed, looking at the wall.

"Deserved it."

You rolled your eyes, walking closer to him.

"You don't really think Garrick of all people deserves the other end of your fury." You reasoned, and your brother finally looked at you.

"You'd understand if it was him in danger, and the person you sent to watch after him was-"

"He's not just a person, Xaden. He's your best friend," you pleaded. "You aren't really mad at him, are you? This is about Violet -- not the two of you."

He sighed and ran a hand through his hair once more. "Yeah, it is. But he's supposed to be helping me, and in doing that he shouldn't be letting her rot away in her room but instead making her stronger-"

"Wait. Who said anything about rotting away?" You asked. Xaden's eyes widened.

"Garrick did, genius! He literally just said she's missing classes and avoiding training to sit alone in her bed all the time," he gripes, throwing his hands wide. "What the Hell else am I supposed to think?"

You frowned at him. "I think you put way too much on him; again, he's your best friend. Not your soldier," you reason, which seems to only ignite your brother more.

"Exactly! Which is why I trust him this; I trust him with you, I trusted him with Violet-"

"Again, friend. Not employee."

Xaden's jaw ticked. "Of course you'd defend his actions; you're so caught up in what the two of you have, you don't think twice how it could affect me-"

You breathed out sharply, waving your arms in anger.

"Xaden, if you'd just shut up for one single second and look at what you have, you'd realize that what your girlfriend needs right now is not to be pushed to the fucking brink at training, it's a supportive boyfriend that puts his girlfriend and their baby's needs above everything else!" You said with a shout.

The room fell absolutely silent.

Your brother stared at you.

Heaving, you stared back.

His eyes glazed over, as though he was processing everything you just divulged to him.

You gulped, lowering your arms as regret sank in and you realized what you just confessed. A rash of angry red spread across your chest as panic gripped your gut with it's long talons, squeezing and twisting every organ inside of you.

Xaden's gaze refocused, and he looked to you in shame.

"She's... pregnant?" He asked, his voice just above a whisper. Tears stung the back of your eyes as you nodded, stepping toward him to place a comforting hand on his shoulder.

"I... Xaden, I didn't mean for you to find out this way, oh Gods," a single tear fell, and your brother's eyes locked onto it as it slid down your cheek. He reached up, wiping it away before pulling you into a somber embrace.

"She's... pregnant," he said slowly, processing the gravity of the words. A small sob racked your body as you cried against your brother's flight jacket. He reached up, petting the back of your head affectionately. The two of you stood there in the quiet, the only noises being your little cries as you worked to regain your composure. When he pulled back, holding you at arm's length, you looked to him through teary eyes.

"Y/N... I don't even know what to say," he said, his own eyes glassy. "How long have you known?"

You sniffled, wiping your nose with your sleeve.

"Right after you left, I think she... found out, and told me and... I know she wanted to tell you herself, and now I've gone and ruined it-"

He pulled you in again as another sob escaped your throat, wrapping his arms completely around you in an attempt to calm you down.

"Hey, hey, you ruined nothing Y/N," he soothed, rubbing a hand down your back. "I'm glad she felt comfortable sharing that with you, especially with me not beign here for her."

His saddened tone forced you to stand upright once more, and looking up at him you saw only regret in his stare.

"Xaden -- you can't blame yourself for doing your duty," you expressed. "Besides, you're here now, shouldn't you go to her? Talk about it?"

He nodded slowly, pulling you in one last time for an embrace.

"You've always been the wise one, you know that?" He chuckled, resting his chin atop your head. "Pisses me off a bit that you're the younger sibling; but, I'll get over it."

You laughed a watery laugh, sniffling as you pulled away from him. Your hand wrapped securely around his elbow, and you pulled him toward the doorway.

"C'mon, lets go see this new momma."

✧･ﾟ: *

8 Months Later

"Okay, okay -- please just be careful with her head," Violet worries as Xaden hands the tiny pink bundle off to his best friend. The overhead lights have been turned off, per Violet's request; as well as the cutrains drawn, allowing in the natual sunlight to illuminate the room.

"I got it, I got it," Garrick assures, placing his hands just beneath the baby's head and back. He brings her close to his chest, snuggling and cooing down at her.

"Just like we practiced," he glances to you, and you give him a wink. Just like we practiced.

"So, have you guys chosen a name yet?" You asked, the intrigue eating away at you at the lack of knowing. Garrick rocked the little girl in his arms, smiling down at her. You looked to your brother, who watched on with wet eyes at the sight. Violet, however turned to you.

"Well, we were thinking something that held meaning to the both of us," she explained, and suddenly the tiny girl began to cry. Garrick's eyes widened in shock as he looked between the three of you.

"I did nothing! I swear!"

You chuckled as you rose from the small sofa, striding toward him to take the precious thing. Her wails tapered off, only small sniffles crinkling that precious face. Garrick passed her with utmost care, and you held her securely in your arms.

"She must prefer her aunt to her uncle," Xaden teases, and Garrick rolls his eyes.

"Or, she's like me and prefer's Y/N's touch."

You grin at him, and he kisses the top of your head as his fingers trail along your spine. You remain focused on the little one, watchign as her brows unforrow and she falls steadily back to sleep.

"Anyway," Violet continues, drawing the attention in the room back to her words. "We feel like we've come up with a good one."

Garrick shrugs. "Let's hear it."

Xaden smiles as he watches you with his daughter, realizing how lucky he is to have three of the most special girls in his life be right within his little family. Violet looks to him, encouraging him to announce the name.

"We're going to call her, Y/N Mira Riorson."

Your heart clenches as you look up, your eyes brimming with emotion. Xaden and Violet look thoughtfully to you, and a single tear slips free when you gaze back down at the wonderful little thing.

"Y/N," you say quietly, brushing her soft little cheek with your finger. "It's so nice to finally meet you."

✧･ﾟ: *

[rayraelleaizawa]

Hi! How are you doing? I was wondering how would Shanks react if someone (stranger or family member) insulted his lover like "I wish you were never born" to them? How would the Red-Haired Pirates react? Can you write a one shot about it?

Hi! sorry it again took me ages to write this tho i love the idea!

I hope this is will be to your liking :) I imagine Shanks being more of the quiet guy when he's really angry. Quiet, but deadly.

Shanks x Reader

Female reader mentioned but only 1 time.

It started as a normal day where the Red Force docked on an island and you were out with Shanks roaming through the streets and looking at vendors and shops.

You two have been dating for quite some time, and the world knew you as red haired Shanks' better half, so most of them treated you extra nicely in fear of the emperor. Still, Shanks was always near you, due to his relationship with you you became a target to his enemies.

You and Shanks were having fun, him being his usual self, joking and trying all kinds of alcohol at the different food and drink stands.

Lime Juice and others of your crew were at one market stand, and Shanks and him had a small drinking competition. You leaned at a house wall and watched them smiling as Shanks laughter got louder and louder over the minutes, as someone next you said your name suddenly.

"Is that really you?", said the voice as you turned around and your mother stood there.

You were suprised. You haven't seen your family in ages, and the good-bye with them wasn't a very good one either. You didn't miss your family, especially not your mother, who only cared about image and what others thought of you.

"I shouldn't be suprised seeing you here, after the announcement came that pirates docked at this island", she said in a condescending voice.

You swallowed, as you weren't prepared to suddenly meet your mother again. You haven't told Shanks about your relationship with your family, but he never asked. He seemed to understand that your family was a chapter in your life which you had closed already.

"At first I was suprised when I heard the rumors that you and red haired Shanks were a couple. I couldn't believe that an emperor of the sea would be interested in my child", she laughed.

"But then when there were pictures of you in the newspaper, next to that man, i finally believed it. And in the end it all made sense to me. Why haven't I thought of this before? Of course would my inconsiderate good-for-nothing kid go with a drunk criminal without even thinking what it meant for family. What it meant for me! My child is now a criminal! Can you even imagine what the neighbors thought of your father and me?! We had to move to another island so people would stop looking at us"

You looked at your mother with wide eyes as she started getting louder and louder.

"Don't talk about Shanks that way! He is more than just that! He and his crew are the best thing that ever happened to me", you spoke back, and a heated argument between you two arose.

Your mother yapped about having born a criminal and that it is your duty to repay her for giving birth to you, while you argumented back that all you ever did was living for her, how she wanted you to be.

The fight between you and your mother quickly caught the attention from the people around. Shanks stood up and walked closer, but he didn't intervent for now. He knew you could fight your own battles, eventho he was concerned what exactly was happening. Lime Juice, Hongo and others of your crew also watched closely, ready to jump that woman if she went too far.

"Shanks gave me a family I'm proud of. They accept me for who I am! All you ever did was pressing me in a role of the perfect child with the perfect mother!"

"You ungrateful brat! I did everything to make you look good and you can't even thank me for that? I should've thrown you in a trash can when you were a baby. I wish you were never born!", she yelled at you and slapped you across the face.

You stood there, motionless, as you slowly realized what just happened. Before you could turn your head back from the slap, Shanks moved infront of you. His Haki was flowing around him as the crowed quickly got smaller as the smart ones all went to hide. Your mother tried to act tough, but it didn't even last a few seconds as she crumbled before him, tears streaming down her face in fear.

"You can insult me as much as you want, but never. ever. say a bad thing about my queen."

His aura alone got your mother to apologize endlessly and to beg him to spare her life. Shanks was angry, and an angry Shanks is something you never want to witness. He isn't loud and he isn't throwing hands, he is just, quiet, consuming of all your senses. He's your nightmare.

You stood behind him, holding your cheek as Hongo touched your back. His eyes were checking over your frame for injuries. You could also see Benn standing a few feet away, leaning against a house wall as he watched everything with his brows furrued.

A feeling of protection came over you, but your heart still ached. You never had the best relationship with your mother, but she never said anything so cruel to you. You slowly turned around and started walking towards the Red Force. You knew you could leave the rest to Shanks. He wouldn't kill her, she was still your mother, but he'd make sure she'll never came near you again. His crew followed you, with a respectfull distance to not smother you, but still close enough that everyone could see they were ready to kill for you.

Back at the Red Force you went to your joined room with Shanks. You sat on the bed and stared at the wall. Only after some time did you realize you were crying. Not long after you heard the door opening and then quietly closing again. Shanks walked up to you and slowly sat on the bed behind you. He moved his arms around you and gently brought you to his chest.

He didn't talk at first, just let you settle in his arms and cry. He kissed your forehead from the side.

"You are the world, darling. The only good thing this woman has ever done, was bringing you into this world. I couldn't think of what I'd do without you. I love you, and I want you to know that you're appreciated for who you are."

At first you didn't respond, you just moved and buried your head in his chest as he gently held you.

"Thank you for being my family", you said after some time, and Shanks smiled into your hair, pressing gentle kisses on your hairline.

"Always, my love"

The next day, Lucky made your favourite food. Benn lend you one of his infamous notebooks he wrote about his past adventures in that no one was allowed to read. Monster wanted to play with you, and the others all did little favours for you over the next week. Appreciating you even more than they already did. Telling you "thank you" for small things you did, but with the meaning that they are gratefull you exist. And Shanks did everything to let you know that he was the most gratefull of that.

[snakeredbirdbatkatana]

"I'm angry at you" Tim forces out.

It's been a long time coming, the words that have been circling his mind for years. Rotting the back of his throat.

Jason is Bruce's son in a way that he will never be. It's just a simple fact.

Maybe he could have picked a different time maybe a family dinner wasn't the place, but he was the one that spent year's of his life having to dodge bullets and murder attempts. He had to spend month's in physical therapy after the tower.

The place he felt safe was ripped away because Jason who is traumatized he hasn't forgot that fact, decided to hunt him down and hurt him.

Maybe Robin isn't a child, but Tim Drake was.

He turns to Bruce who's face is of course blank he's the one who wants Jason here yet not an emotion in sight.

Turns back to look Jason in the eye the man who's sitting next to Damian sometimes he wonders if Alfred does it on purpose a way to remind Tim that his murderers will always have something he doesn't.

He will look him in the eye he will not falter today.

"I was a child, I should have never been the exception to your rule. Say what you will about Robin being something else but you didn't care about Robin you cared it was me"

Silence it's funny how comforting it can be.

"I should not have to sit at the same table as two of my attempted murderers and pretend that it's ok. You are both traumatized I understand that but it will never be an excuse for traumatizing me. I see the Red hood and Robin in my nightmares."

He turns to look at Dick who as always is to the right of him once again pointing to Alfred doing this seating on purpose.

"You are a hypocrite who has never shut up about drying but goes out his way to kill another Robin."

He sees Alfred step forward closer to Bruce he wonders what the point is will he say anything, not likely but why move he almost asks yet if he doesn't finish he never will.

"This was your home first it still is, but I have bled and given more than you will ever know to secure my place here. So Bruce I do not ever want to partnered with either one of them in the field. You or Dick are the only options. You will not argue with me this is me laying my boundaries which I am entitled to."

He stares at Alfred loosing the blank look to let some of the anger out. He wants him to know.

"You will also never again force me to sit at a dinner table across from them again. Whatever British Passive-Aggressive gesture this is. You have no right to do. I will never forgive you for my birthday."

Dick goes to interrupt he doesn't let him.

"Bruce and Alfred have my full permission to discuss the psychological torture they put me through as my birthday present. But from now on none of you get to treat me as if I am some replacement or placeholder. I am a person with feelings, I will not be treated like a doormat."

He makes eye contact with each of them Alfred, Bruce, Jason and Damian.

Before turning to Dick for the last part.

"You are the only person here who has never deliberately hurt me, your my brother and I love you. I want to spend more time with you and I am specifically requesting that you come with me when I leave this table. We can get dinner or hang out but I need you to leave with me."

----------

Bruce is speechless.

How did he do this, his child is sitting at his table trembling and he can't move.

His child who just spent ten minutes defending himself and he is doing nothing.

Dick interrupts what he can admit is a pity party.

"Your my brother, I will happily follow you to the ends of the earth and if we leave now we can go to the Thai place that you like."

He can't let them leave he has to say something.

Tell Tim that he loves him, that he can fix this that this isn't the end. That it matters but before he can there gone.

His boys leave.

His precious sons, one loyal to a fault and one hurt beyond measure and what did he do nothing.

What he always does nothing.

[ilovedthestars]

btw, I met a SecUnit

The soon-to-be-released new TMBD story "Rapport: Friendship, Solidarity, Communion, Empathy" covers ART revealing to its crew that it met a rogue SecUnit! This formerly-missing scene has been the subject of a lot of fan speculation, including many fanfics. Now's your chance to enjoy them before they're de-canonized! (And keep enjoying them afterwards, because even Martha Wells' version is just one more cake for us to enjoy!)

Below is a collection of every fic I could find that features the "btw, I met a SecUnit" conversation between ART and its crew. Works tagged with a / relationship tag are placed below the cut.

I very well may have missed some—if you know any more, please add them! And be sure to show the authors some love in the comments :)

Not Angry, Just Disappointed by mensah

Seth said sternly, “Perihelion, you need to tell us the truth. We can’t leave the home system until we find out what happened. If you’re hiding something—” Peri cut him off. I am not hiding anything. Peri might be able to lie astonishingly well to a corporate representative, even impersonate a human over the feed, but it couldn’t lie to Iris. “Yes, you are,” she said. -- Or, the story of how exactly ART told its crew about Murderbot.

Private Diary of Iris after Artificial Condition by ImitationGame

Perihelion returns from its solo mission. Dr. Delawyn, an expert in machine cognition, notices that there has been unusual activities in its emotion processing system. Perihelion admits having allowed a rogue SecUnit onboard.

Not applicable by Wrenz

Iris is finally back on board Perihelion after its latest cargo-run (with side-order of espionage) and they have a chance to catch up. She wasn't expecting her sibling to have become attached to someone new while it was away. Let alone a rogue SecUnit.

Partial Disclosure by Gamebird

The complicated family dynamics when you're a super-secret intelligent spaceship trying to explain the illegal things you did to help your new friend (the rogue security construct) to your augmented sister so she'll team up with you against your dad who is also your captain and commanding officer. Actually, best not to explain the illegal things. Maybe just the 'new friend' part for now and hope for the best on the rest of it.

The Talk by Gamebird

From the tags of fingolfinwiththesteelchair on Tumblr, “can you imagine ART having to explain to Iris and Seth WHY it let SecUnit on??” (https://www.tumblr.com/fingolfinwiththesteelchair/735884180224950272/this-has-been-perihelions-guide-to-making?source=share) This is set very shortly after [redacted] in System Collapse and before the trip to the surface that serves as the opening scene for that book. (No System Collapse spoilers to worry about, though.) (Minor edits since initial publication to bring it in line with canon.)

unexpected object in ventilation system by CompletelyDifferent

When people are overwhelmed with feelings they won't (or can't) admit, it causes them to vomit out flowers. Love is a particularly common culrpit. And yes, it's been an enduring symbol of enduring love for humanity since time immemorial, yadda yadda, truth is, in reality, it's kind of a pain to deal with. Kaede's picked roses and daises from her teeth more times than she'd care to admit, and helped friends hack out lilies even more. She knows the drill. Someone on board The Perihelion has a bad case of The Petals, and she's determined to track down who.

Below: Fics on this list that include a / relationship tag. (This is a somewhat arbitrary separation—I suggest reading the author's tags and notes for more nuance.)

Gos-ship by urisaarang

Peri tells its crew it met someone. Someone special. Someone worth committing a little crime for.

Fallen the hardest by OctoberSeventeenth

When Perihelion keeps playing the same song Iris suspects that there might be more to this... Basically How I imagine Peri told its crew about SecUnit.

Parallel Signaling by Joyfulldreams

After leaving RaviHyral, by the time I exit the wormhole adjacent to Port Outlander, the sting of SecUnit’s absence has finally begun to fade. Cargo runs are always lonely, so this is nothing new. SecUnit left me with more to occupy my time than I usually have. Media. Memories. A few topics of pointless rumination, I suppose, but also new topics of data analysis and research. OR The time period between the end of Artificial Condition and the end of Exit Strategy, from ART's POV.

[kaivenom]

This is a silly one but I’ve always found it interesting to see! Maybe the strawhats (platonic) with a very self-sacrificing reader? Like they don’t notice how genuinly bad it is until a big ultimatum where the reader happily just goes in head first to die for them knowing there’s no hope of saving them (but the strawhats do save them and now they all are kinda realising that maybe the reader isn’t just a bit of a reckless idiot)

I would have requested the dilfs for this but they fit more also LOVE all your writings and LOVE LOVE LOVE LOVE LOVEEEE the dilf content . Hope you’re having a good day!

The strawhats crew with a self-sacrificing!reader

Masterlist

You are on the nursery room of the ship and can hear all the yells on the deck.

You can't hear the words but you can sense that they are angry. You start to feel sad because they are angry at you.

Then Chopper came back and started to check the bandages without saying a word.

"I'm sorry that you are mad at me, next time i would do it right."

Chopper looked at you and started crying while catching your hand.

"Please don't do that again, we don't want there to be a next time of this..."

You nodded and Chopper left the room, you were shocked that he said that, why would there no be another time? sacrificing for the team it's your thing, that's why you are worthy to the team.

The next weeks, while you recover, all your crewmates seem extremely careful and attentive with you.

Sanji prepares your favourite food and sits with you until you finish it.

Zoro makes you take naps with him when you are too much time standing up.

Ussop tries to make up jokes to make you laugh.

Robin and Nami do a lot of girls nights with you.

Brook keeps playing your favourite tunes.

Chopper is always by your side, cheking your wounds.

Luffy is there too, but just doing Luffy things.

You aren't used to all this attention, you feel really misplaced with all of this. Even though they are being really nice, it's noticable that there is a shadow upon all of them.

Once your wounds are finally closed and Chopper gives you the medical discharge, you go to the kitchen to tell them.

But they have a stressed look, they made you sit and Luffy took the word.

"Don't you ever do that again, you are part of the team and you can't run like that to danger, once we can pass it but you do it every time like your life is worth nothing and you almost died this last time..."

"But that is my part on the team, you have a doctor, swordsman, cook... i am the cannon meat, the one who sacrifices."

You said it with a smile but all of them are frowning, you could even saw a couple of tears on someone's eyes.

Luffy banned you from going to battle and you always had someone near you.

Even Chopper started studying some psychology to do therapy seasons with you.

You at first didn't saw the problem but since they all are so annoying about that, you do as they say.

Weeks passed and you started to notice that maybe they are right, that you shouldn't run directly into danger cause that would make them sad and you all are a team.

The moment you told them you were sorry and that you understood and won't do it again, was the moment they all cried like babies and suffocated you on a hug.

From now on, you would try to be more self-conscious about danger, so you won't hurt them again.