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lamentationsofalonelypotato · 9 months ago

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Epilogue: True Love Is Hard To Find

Pairing: Soldier Boy x f!reader, Reader POV

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

Word Count: 12.2K

Warnings: I'm gonna label this one 18+ because it's Soldier Boy. Vomiting, Dark/Depressing thoughts, Heartbreak, FLUFF, FLUFF, and oh did I mention FLUFF, Sexual innuendo, Self-deprecating thoughts, Drinking, Cursing, Some references to past trauma, References to past sex, Soldier Boy might be, is, really, absolutely, completely a little OOC. Soldier Boy is really all you need as a warning.

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

Internal Monologue is in first person and is in italics

Series Masterlist

Masterlist

Song lyrics are bold, italics, and are in red. The lyrics come from "You Call It Madness But I Call It Love," by Russ Colombo (can be found at the link). This is the song I based the series on and it really is wonderful to listen to.

A/N: Well guys, we made it. Just remember that this isn't goodbye, it's I'll see you in a little while.

Five Months Later…

"Is it time to go yet?" Ben murmurs into your ear, his breath rustling against the hair he tucked carefully behind it moments ago, his hand pressing into the small of your back.

The sounds of clinking glasses, laughter, and small chatter ebb and flow over the crowded art gallery, the white walls a subtle backdrop to the colorfully dressed people, waiters, and the canvases that hang on the walls.

Women in elegant dresses stand at different sized paintings while men dressed in casual suits and ties stand beside them in stoic contemplation, their eyes following the gentle brushstrokes that cover the canvases hanging in succession against the bland backdrop.

Waiters dressed in simple suits with silver trays of food and pastries weave through the crowded room, offering treats to whomever they stop by, while a bartender sits at a large wooden bar designed to fit into the venue serving drinks to patrons and pouring multicolored liquids into glasses.

It had been five months since Ben came back, five months since you said goodbye to Homelander, and five of the happiest months of your life.

The first month following Ben's return, you had taken him to the house in Maine, figured that you both could use a vacation and spent your days sunning on the beach together and curled up in bed making up for the time that you lost when Ben was gone. You weren't complaining, not when every day you felt the same way as when you'd woken up the day after your birthday, not when each time Ben kissed you felt like the first time, and not when every time he touched you it felt like you were filled with sunlight. You felt warmer, lighter, happier, and being with him was even more wonderful than you remember.

Every day was fused with wonder and expectation and every night Ben made you feel more loved than you ever had. You were so blissfully happy that you had forgotten the past and were excited for what the future would hold for the two of you.

Lou, Rosemary, and Ryan had come after a few weeks to spend time with Ben and you at the house. Lou was ecstatic that Ben was staying in your lives and spent every moment with him on the beach having him help her make sandcastles and look for shells and shiny rocks that were rubbed smooth by the waves.

Rosemary was still icy towards Ben, but you knew that she was starting to get used to him being around. All you hoped was that one day she would warm up to him, but it was a little less awkward between the two of them. She was at least calling him by his name and she could stand to be in the same room as him. When Ben read the paper in the mornings at the breakfast table off of the large kitchen at the house, Rosemary drank her coffee quietly and read through a paperback, you painted in your watercolor pad absentmindedly, and Lou tried her best to copy you all the while making small talk with Ryan who sat beside her.

Ryan was living in the spare room in Rosemary's apartment and despite being corrected, Lou referred to Ryan as her older brother every chance she got, something that always made Ryan brush bright red. At first Rosemary and you had been wary about bringing in a blossoming teenager in to her home, not to mention a blossoming teenager that had the ability to level a small building if he wanted to, but Ryan seemed to like living there and he didn't cause any unnecessary trouble. Butcher came by every week to take Ryan out of the apartment to give Rosemary a break and Ryan was always happy to go with him.

That was something you weren't sure about. Yes, you liked that Butcher had such a big influence in Ryan's life, but you didn't like how often he came by. You weren't sure you trusted him with what he knew about Lou's powers that only seemed to grow by the day since their development. Every time Lou watched something with a supe in it she started exhibiting a new ability, but she seemed to be able to turn them on and off at will.

Which was good. She also seemed to understand the idea that it wasn't good to show them in public. There were a few slip ups, for example when Ben and you took Lou for ice cream one day. she got so excited when she received the cone that she started levitating a few inches off the ground and another time she threw a temper tantrum at the grocery store and stomped her foot so aggressively against the ground that the entire building shook.

The looks she got when she did both of those things were the same looks you got when Lou called Ben and you "grandpa" and "grandma" in public.

But she was doing better and with Rosemary's ability to touch Lou and get the power Lou was exhibiting, Rosemary had been able to show Lou how to control some of the abilities better than others.

Ryan also helped. He was old enough to babysit Lou when there was no one else, comforting because now that Lou had powers you didn’t trust anyone else to be around her and didn't trust that Vought had forgotten. Ryan was just starting school, a school just a few blocks from Rosemary’s apartment where he could feel like a real kid, and was already struggling through math. When he asked Ben for help Ben had replied that Ryan didn’t need it and the only thing Ryan should focus on was sports.

Ben was no longer allowed to offer Ryan education advice and Butcher and you both tried your best to help Ryan with math instead. You’d also told Ryan not to listen to someone who got kicked out of every boarding school he ever went to, which only made Ben smack you on the ass and say "it takes one to know one" while Rosemary mimed vomiting in the kitchen.

You had asked Rosemary if she wanted to get a new apartment, big enough for everyone so you could be around 24/7 to help her, but she’d complained and said that she was too old to be living with her parents.

She was right, but you still tried your best to be around to give her a break whenever she needed one.

Of course it wasn’t all good in those five months.

Rosemary quit her job at the hospital after everything happened with Homelander and didn’t tell you that she’d gotten a new one working with Butcher on his team. When you’d confronted her about it she’d told you that it wasn’t a big deal, but to you it was. You had spent the past 40 years of Rosemary’s life keeping all the supe shit separate, but now she was diving in head first. You’d had a fight, a bad one, one of the worst the two of you had ever had and you’d spent three days in bed crying to Ben who held you tight and didn’t let you go. When Rosemary had finally showed up three days later, her own eyes red and rimmed with dark circles beneath you knew she was just as upset as you were. And then she told you why she did it.

It wasn’t because of Butcher, it was because of Homelander.

Rosemary was guilty, frustrated with herself because she had been unable to keep Lou safe from him. Rosemary said that she felt like she had been hiding her entire life, turning her back on a piece of herself, and that she needed to do this. She felt like a failure, worthless, and that she needed to embrace who she really was. So you tried to be supportive all the while contemplating if you should follow her on missions to make sure that she was okay.

But that seemed a little obsessive so you held yourself back.

It was going well and honestly, Rosemary seemed happy. Not to mention Butcher liked having her around for medical assistance if there was a problem in the field.

Ben was working for Butcher too, something else you also didn't agree with, but at least now you didn't have to worry about Rosemary as much. You knew that Ben wouldn't let anything happen to her, but you also didn't love that you now had both of them to worry about. Sometimes you thought about working for Butcher too, but after everything that happened with Homelander, Stan, Noir, and your old team, you were happy to immerse yourself in your art again, to dive in to your creativity and let it wash away any of your worries and pain that rose in the aftermath of the everything that had happened five months ago.

You'd told Ben that he didn't have to work, told him that the both of you had more than enough money for a few centuries, but for Ben it was bigger than that. He wanted to work, thought that it was his job to provide for the both of you, his job to take care of you, and you didn’t want to argue with him about that. It was difficult to say no to him, not when he was just as happy as you were, and not when he was giving you everything you said you wanted all those years ago the night you saved Noir. He had given you a home, someone who loves you, and someone to come home to and it was more wonderful than you could have ever imagined. He gave you everything he promised and more.

Sometimes when you were together, he'd get a look on his face like he had no idea how it happened, and you weren't too sure either, but you were so happy that you didn't care. The things you'd daydreamed about all those years ago, of Ben and you living together and being in love dulled in comparison to the real thing. You'd never seen Ben smile as much as you had in the past five months, never seen him so full of life and happiness in all the years you'd known him, and you wanted him to be that way every day for the rest of his life.

And you had never been as inspired to paint as you were now, hence the art show Ben and you were currently attending.

Rosemary, Lou, and Ryan were taking it easy for the evening and you didn’t blame them. Rosemary had just come back from an overnight trip with Butcher's team from somewhere in the South and stated she needed to relax. You’d graciously offered to take Ryan and Lou with you, but she’d waved you off. Said that it was alright and that Ben and you should enjoy yourselves.

You think that working together also helped Ben and Rosemary get more comfortable interacting, but there was still some tension that you hoped would fade in the coming years. It was better than it had been. You were also worried about them working with Butcher's team because of what you'd done to them at Vought, but so far there didn't seem to be a problem. In fact, Rosemary and Annie were becoming friends, which made you happy because Rosemary had friends, but none who she could be one hundred percent honest with about who you were and the powers she had. With Annie, Rosemary didn't have to pretend.

Grace Mallory called every week to check in and keep you updated on Homelander's progress. He was still the same as he had been five months ago, but she was getting a new doctor to come take a look at him, someone who was well versed in memory loss and you hoped he was able to figure it out. Not that you really wanted old Homelander to come back, but because you didn't know where to go from here. You knew that if Homelander ever got out, the first thing he would do was find Compound V, and then come after your family. But it still felt weird to kill someone who didn't remember the things they had done.

Sometimes you wished that it could have been different, but if this was how it always ended up you wouldn't change a thing, because it meant that you might not be here with Ben.

You smile up at Ben, adjusting his dark tie with a steady hand and smoothing out the collar of his black suit. "We've been here for twenty minutes. And it was you that wanted to come to my show."

Ben grins. "Maybe I just wanted to see you all dressed up sweetheart. Have I told you how beautiful you look?"

He had, several times before you left your apartment. Not to mention you'd walked out of the bedroom and into the living room Ben had all but tackled you onto the couch and made the both of you late because you had to redo your makeup.

Your dress was maroon, backless, and had capped sleeves that fell off your shoulders to curve just over your biceps. It was cinched at the waist and fell elegantly to your feet that were encased in a pair of black heels that made you almost tall enough to reach Ben's shoulders. There was a new necklace hanging around your neck, one that Ben had gotten you for your one month anniversary. It was a kite cut emerald about the size of the end of your pinky. You still had the pearl necklace that Noir had stolen from you, but now when you looked at it, you felt sad and didn't remember your father. Not to mention the pearl necklace that Ben gave you as a replacement was still in pieces from the night that you both wanted to forget.

So he'd gotten you this one and you loved it, because it reminded you of Ben's beautiful eyes, the same ones that were focused on you right now, shining in the light of the gallery.

Ben looked better than you did, then again you always thought he did. He was wearing a sharp black suit with a crisp white shirt and a black tie. Every time you looked at him you couldn't believe he was all yours. You wondered if he felt that way whenever he looked at you.

"I can't leave early, it’s my party remember? It would be rude to-"

He leans in again, his hand tightening on your waist. "I'd much rather take you home and congratulate you myself."

Ben doesn't miss the shiver that travels down your spine with his words, eyes shifting to the goosebumps that erupt on your arms. "Come on doll, I could go get the car right now." He purrs pressing a kiss just under your left ear, feeling your resolve begin to waver, which was already hanging by a thread. Ben never needed to do much to persuade you, but you noticed that when it came to you Ben also had a hard time saying no. And you loved how easily you worked him.

“Didn’t you congratulate me before we left?” You murmur kissing along his sharp jaw. “And this morning?” You drag your hands up his chest feeling a low groan vibrate through his rib cage. “And last night?”

“Are you complaining doll?” His eyes glint mischievously, smirk pulling at the end of his lips.

“No. Because I happen to like congratulating you too.”

“Good, because I don’t think I’ll ever stop wanting to congratulate you.” Ben nudges his nose against yours, before fitting his soft lips over your mouth. The subtle scratch of his well trimmed beard tickles against your cheeks as he deepens the kiss, his hand pressed against the small of your back, securing you against his strong body.

It was moments like this that made you want to melt into him, to let him take everything you were, and everything he was and mold them together as one. Ben was everything to you and now that you knew what it was like to have him not be in your life, you were never going to let him go.

"Ben." You smile, gently laying your hand on his cheek, feeling the coarse hairs of his beard scratch against your palms. "Please, just another hour at least."

"Sweetheart-"

You stand up on tip toe, so you can whisper in his ear while holding tight to his right shoulder. "Baby please. One more hour and then you'll have me all to yourself."

"Promise?" Ben murmurs, eyes darkening with your proposition.

"I promise."

Ben smiles pleased, and turns back to survey the crowds chattering about the paintings you had done, his arm wrapped around your waist.

The different sized canvases on the wall were awash with colors. The theme was "Out With the Old and In With the New," inspired by a trip Ben and you had taken to Philadelphia, but also you saw it as a new beginning, a way for the two of you to shake off the shadow of the past and move into the future together. He'd wanted to see how much Philadelphia had changed and you hadn’t been there since your brother’s funeral.

The two of you had spent the week going to places you knew all too well before you became supes. Some of the buildings were still there, while others had vanished into obscurity. Ben's family estate was still just as you remembered it. He was still technically the owner, but you didn't want to make him stay there, not when you knew about the scars that clung to the walls and creeped along the staircases. He had stepped foot inside, the musty smell wafting out through the open doors, the dust swirling in clouds with every unsure step he took. Ben's father had died a few years before Ben went to Russia, and despite all the ways Ben disappointed him, Ben's father still left him everything.

When Ben stood just in the entryway of the mansion you could see the weight settle on his shoulders once more, the weight his father put there and pressed into him. The last time the two of you had been there was when Ben's father died, but you hadn't been able to comfort Ben the way you wanted to then. This time you took him into your arms and pressed his head into your shoulder, trailing your fingers into his hair, and holding him close to you. Ben put it up for sale before the two of you left, and you were more than happy to see it go.

Your family home was still standing, but inhabited by your distant relatives from your brother's side of the family. You hadn't tried to make a connection with them since you vanished forty years ago and didn't want to insert yourself into their lives now. You had everything you needed, you had a family, and you had Ben.

The canvases on the walls were born from what you found remaining in Philadelphia, the city that rose from the one you used to know so well. Each painting was an amalgamation of your memories of the Philadelphia from your youth painted in shades of gray and what replaced it, rose from the canvas in splashes of bold color as if rising from the ashes. It was one of your best shows, and judging by the chatter you had heard and how excited your agent and the curator was you knew that there weren't many canvases left over. Your favorite was hanging from the ceiling in the center of the room, the centerpiece of the entire show.

It was painted from the memory of the day Ben and you sat on the warm soft grass by the pond at Fairmount park. In the painting two people sat on the bank, the boy half turned to stare at the girl with a flower tucked into his jacket pocket and the girl half turned, her face pointed down focusing on a watercolor pad in her lap while her hair fell forward, but the audience could still see her smile and the boy's smirk. They sat in a haze of black and white while the new park swirled out from them in bold colors.

Ben hadn't seen it until you showed up to the gallery a few moments before the show opened. You'd kept it a surprise, only working on it whenever he was working, and his reaction was worth it. As soon as he saw it Ben had stopped dead in his tracks just within the front doors as if he couldn't believe it, his gaze focused on the picture. You'd asked him if he liked it and in response he had grabbed you and kissed you so fiercely in front of your agent and the curator that both of them walked away to give you some privacy. You were still buzzing from that kiss, well, the kiss and what Ben had done to you on the couch before you left your apartment together.

"I'm going to go get a drink." Ben glances in the direction of the bar before looking back at you. "Do you want something?"

"No, I'm okay right now. Thanks though."

He presses a kiss into the top of your head before he vanishes into the crowd. You prepare yourself for the wave of loss you feel whenever Ben leaves. It had only gotten worse after months of spending time together. When he went out of town it was almost unbearable, but he did try his best to keep you posted, by calling you whenever he could. Sometimes you worried that you needed him too much, that he thought you were being too clingy, but every time you tried to consciously pull back it was Ben that always doubled his efforts to be around you, almost as if he was trying to make up for you toning it down. It reassured you that Ben wanted you there and genuinely wanted to spend time with you.

"Y/n!" You hear a familiar voice say and you turn your head to see your friend Levi making his way through the crowd. His dark curly hair hangs over his shoulders in gentle waves and he's wearing a black button down shirt that he's rolled up to his elbows revealing the patchwork of ink covering every square inch of his golden skin. Levi was also an artist that showed at the gallery, which is how the two of you met. Over the years you had each gone to each other's shows and then out to dinner to celebrate. He was a good friend, but you knew he had feelings for you.

You had forgotten that he was going to be here, hadn't thought about it, and hadn't told Ben. An important thing that you should have told him because Levi is the man that you'd almost slept with.

It had almost happened two years ago and you had come to Levi's show, a collection of recycled sculptures that had stunned New York City. The two of you had gone out to dinner as you always did and after, Levi had leaned in to kiss your cheek to say goodbye, but you'd turned at the wrong moment and he'd caught your lips. The both of you had frozen outside the darkened restaurant, the sounds of the city rising around you, his dark brown eyes catching and holding your gaze. You don't know why you did it, maybe because you'd been lonely for so long or maybe because Rosemary had told you that you needed to start trying again, that she was worried about you being alone, so you kissed Levi.

You weren't sure how you ended up back at his apartment in his bed, but you'd stopped him just before you had sex. You told him that you couldn't do that, that you didn't think that you could be what he wanted, and that you were sorry. It had felt wrong to give him hope, only to take all away again. For you to do that had reminded you of the hope Ben had given you when you finally slept with him and how hollow you were when he broke your heart and told you that you meant nothing.

You refused to do that to someone else.

Levi had been confused, but he'd respected you, told you that you didn't have to apologize for anything. Unfortunately since then it had been a little bit awkward, because you knew he still had feelings for you, not to mention he'd seen you naked.

"Levi!" You smile back at him

He pulls you in for a hug, holding on to you for a second longer than he should. "How are you? I haven't seen you around and you didn't come to my show. I was worried."

"Oh I was out of town for a little bit." You wave a hand. "Kinda last minute."

"Oh. Well, I guess you weren't too busy for this." He gestures to the canvases on the walls. "They're gorgeous. I think this is my favorite show of yours."

"You say that after every show."

"And you say that at every one of my shows."

"Because it's true." You roll your eyes at Levi. "Your work gets better with age-"

"I could say the same thing to you." Levi runs a hand through his tangled dark hair. "Come on, you have to tell me the truth."

"What?"

"Were you an art prodigy or something? You can't be much older than me and your work is just insanely mind-altering."

If only he knew.

"Nope. I've just been practicing a long time." You smile to yourself at the inside joke.

"So unfair. I hate you, you know that right." Levi grins.

"Oh please. If anything I should hate you. I've never been good with sculpture."

"I told you that I would be available for lessons anytime."

"I'll think about it."

Levi glances around the room at all the people. "You know, I think they make a bigger deal about your shows than mine."

"Green isn't a good color on you Levi." You snort at him.

He only smiles. "Have I told you how beautiful you look tonight?"

You freeze. It was the same thing that Ben had asked you moments ago before Levi showed up. Except when Ben said it you couldn’t help but smile and blush, but when Levi said it, it just was weird. "No. But it's alright." You smile awkwardly.

"Did you-" He clears his throat sensing the shift in conversation. "Did you want to get dinner after your show?"

The two of you hadn't had dinner since the incident two years ago, instead you had gone for coffee, because it felt less intimate and more like something the two of you could do as friends. You didn’t think that you would fall into bed with him if you were fully caffeinated. But it still made you feel bad because you thought you were leading him on, even when you told him exactly what you wanted.

"I know we haven’t in a while, but I miss you." Levi's eyes soften. "I know that what happened was a little awkward, but we can still be friends. Or maybe we can talk this out and you can tell me why you think doing this would be bad.” He gestures between the two of you. “Because we have so much in common and I really like you. And I think you do like me, but you just won't admit it-“

"Levi-" You begin to say, trying to think of a way to let him down easy, again, because he still didn’t seem to understand.

Ben's muscular arm weaves around your waist, pulling your hips back into his where he stands behind you as soon as you begin to answer, the warmth of his body like a shock to your system. He's got a glass of scotch in his free hand and he's staring at Levi with an unreadable expression.

Ben kisses you on the cheek, lingering for a second too long for it to be casual, blatantly marking his territory.

"What did I miss?" Ben says it as if he couldn’t hear the entire conversation from the bar, but you knew he had.

Levi’s eyes widen at Ben’s appearance and flick to you as if looking for an answer. Ben downs the glass in one gulp, placing it on the tray of a waiter who passes by.

“Ben, this is my friend Levi. Levi this is-“

You hesitate for a moment. Calling Ben your boyfriend felt wrong sometimes. Your relationship felt different to just say that he was your boyfriend, it didn’t seem to be enough, not to mention you felt like Ben was a little old to be your boyfriend, just as you felt a little old to be his girlfriend. Calling him your everything felt more appropriate, but it was too intimate for someone to know other than Ben.

“Ben.” Ben says extending his free hand to grasp Levi’s in a death grip, and you see Levi wince sightly when Ben tightens his grip. “Her husband.”

If you’d been drinking something you would have done a spit take right then and there. The word coming out of Ben’s mouth was foreign and so out of the blue the two of you might as well be swimming in the middle of a cobalt colored sea. The two of you hadn't spoken about that at all. It had never come up in conversation, even when the two of you took a walk around Rosemary's block and passed a jewelry store with a display of engagement rings. In fact the only time that you'd mentioned that you wanted to marry someone was the night that Ben almost killed Noir forty years ago and Ben made a joke about the two of you getting married. It had hurt when he did, it felt like he was mocking you, like he thought that it wasn't important.

That night you'd asked Ben if he wanted to marry someone and he said "maybe." You weren't sure if that was because Ben didn't believe in marriage or if he thought it wasn’t necessary, but to you things like that were important. You were old-fashioned and you wanted to marry Ben, you wanted to be his wife, but Ben hadn't proposed or stated that he wanted to marry you.

That could be your insecurity about being too clingy or your insecurity that Ben would pull away from you rising all over again, but you weren't sure if Ben cared about being your husband.

And yes maybe you were expecting a proposal sometime in the future, but it still hadn't happened and a part of you was worried that because it had not happened yet, it never would. Mostly because you couldn't think of what he was waiting for. He'd said that he never wanted to leave you ever again, told you that he wanted to give you everything you wanted, told you that he'd never love anyone else the way that he loved you, and yet there hadn't been talk to marriage. Not to mention you had told him that you loved him and that you'd never leave him and that you couldn't live without him.

Yes, you were living together, sharing a bank account, and spending every waking moment of your lives together, but there had been no discussion about him marrying you.

Which is odd because why did he tell Levi that we were married? Was he just trying to think of something official to make him back off?

Levi's eyes widen with the word "husband" his eyes darting to you in surprise. "I'm sorry, I didn't know that you got married, congratulations." It doesn't sound sincere, but if Ben hears the insincerity, he ignores it.

"Thanks Levi." Ben smiles wider, pulling you tighter against his side. "It's fairly recent. We're still in that Honeymoon Phase, you know how it is." Ben's smile turns more into a smirk. "Kinda hard to leave the apartment if you know what I mean, champ. Could barely get her to this thing."

Your entire face flushes bright red in embarrassment, struck speechless. You knew Ben better than anyone and you knew that he was doing this because he was jealous, but it didn’t make it any less embarrassing or any less Levi's business what Ben and you did in your apartment. Ben also didn't have anything to be jealous about, Levi was nothing compared to him, no one was compared to Ben, not when you were children and not now. You were sure that you'd told him that over and over again.

"Oh-um-" Levi clears his throat awkwardly, his own cheeks the same color of crimson of yours. "Yeah, well-"

"But if you still want to have dinner, I'm sure my wife and I could work out something." Ben smiles enjoying how frazzled Levi is.

You try not to flinch when Ben says the word "wife." "Ben-" You begin, hoping to give Levi a way out.

"Well, I'll have to check my schedule. I've got a show coming up and well-" Levi fumbles. "I'll see you." He turns and vanishes into the crowd of people flocking to your paintings.

Ben chuckles to himself. "He couldn't get out of here fast enough could he?"

You don't answer him. Ben's arm is around your waist, the warmth of his skin diffusing through his suit jacket and your dress into your body, but you don't feel the comfort you did when he first put it around you.

"You didn't have to do that." You say.

"Yes I did. He was trying to come on to my girl and we both know how much I hate sharing sweetheart." Ben replies light heartedly and you can hear the smile in his voice.

"Uh-huh." You look up at him. "So, I'm your wife? Funny I don't remember our wedding."

Ben's smile fades for a minute, clearing his throat. "He wants to fuck you. I was just trying to-"

"He's my friend Ben. We've been friends since I started showing in this gallery."

"He asked you to dinner."

"We've been to dinner before. We sometimes go out after the shows." You reply vaguely.

“You went out with him?” His eyebrows furrow together in confusion.

“No. We had dinner as friends. I recall you and I having dinner as friend a lot.” You say, not about to admit to Ben that you almost slept with Levi. You knew that particular piece of information was unneeded and would only upset him.

“That’s different!” Ben scoffs.

“Why is that different?” You pull back from him, letting his arm fall from your waist as you cross your arms over your chest.

“Because we both already were in love with one another!” Ben says it matter-of-factly as if it's the most obvious answer in the entire world.

"What? That doesn't make it a date!"

Wait, did he think that all those times we went to dinner were dates? Has Ben just been thinking that we were going out all these years? Is he freaking crazy? He doesn't have a right to think that way, not when he was sleeping his way through every major city in America.

"Yes it does."

"So you're telling me all those years that we spent together we were dating? And that you chasing after every woman who crossed your path was you what? Us having an open relationship?"

Ben narrows his eyes. "That's not what I'm saying."

"I mean, it kind of is. You think that just because we loved one another and went out to get food it was a date."

"No. I mean that it's different because you loved me and I loved you!"

"Ben-"

“Did you fuck him?” Ben's jaw locks, anger flashing in his eyes as he changes the subject.

Your mouth drops open in shock. "What? No. I told you that I've never been with anyone else, only you. I wouldn't lie about something like that-"

Does he really think that I would lie about that?

Ben's body stiffens and you see the dots connect inside his mind, green eyes hardening to a solid chunk of unyielding jade. "Is that the guy you almost slept with?" His gaze turns murderous.

"Ben-"

Ben's head swivels to glare at where Levi is standing across the room from the two of you speaking to someone else about his work. You can practically see the gears turning in Ben's head as he thinks of all the ways that he can kill him.

Truthfully you knew that Ben had a tendency to get jealous, had known it since the night Howard and you were dancing together, but you didn’t think that he deserved to be jealous about this.

I thought he was dead. I was trying to move on.. AND I didn’t sleep with him. Not to mention Ben and I weren't together. It's not like I was cheating on him or something.

"Why are you getting so angry? I wasn't cheating on you, we weren't together. And I didn't sleep with him."

"But he fucking touched you." Ben growls, his eyes narrowing at the back of Levi's head and you know that if Ben had laser vision Levi would be dead.

"He touched me two years ago! You're being ridiculous. I didn't go on a murder rampage through New York City whenever you slept with someone. If I did that there wouldn't be anymore women left in the state of New York."

"I am not being ridiculous!" He snaps eyes flashing back to you.

"Okay you've got to calm down."

"Don't tell me to fucking calm down."

"I don't understand why you're getting so angry about something that didn't happen. Not to mention it's me that has the right to be angry!"

"Why?"

"Because this," You wave your hand around the gallery. "Is my job and that," You point at Levi "Is kind of my coworker and you embarrassed me!"

"What? How the fuck did I embarrass you?" Ben was trying to keep his voice down, but you knew that it was becoming difficult for him.

"Well, call me crazy, but I don't want to talk about my sex life with someone else. Not to mention you had no right to lie to him. I get that you get jealous, but what you did was uncalled for."

"What in the actual fuck are you talking about?" His hands are clenched into fists at his sides so tightly that the skin stretched tight over his knuckles is white.

"We aren't married Ben. We live together. Those are two different things."

"It's not that different." Ben's shoulders fall and you see something flash for just a moment in his eyes that looks like disappointment.

Does he really think that living together and being together is the same as being marriage? As making a life-long commitment to someone? I mean I want to be married to him because I want to make that promise to him, want to bind myself to him because he's the only man that I've ever loved and I ever will love. I want to be his wife because I can't see my life without him in it.

"It is to me."

"But-"

"But what?" You scoff.

"Well we-" Ben's eyebrows furrow as he tries to find the right words, but he comes up empty handed.

"The only time that you've ever brought up marriage was when you were drunk off your ass on my couch after Noir, when you brought up Howard and then made a joke about the two of us getting married!"

"I mean, it wasn't completely a joke and I told you that I wasn't that drunk." Ben frowns. "And that doesn’t mean anything!"

"What do you mean it doesn’t mean anything? To me it does. Making that promise to someone, making a vow to them, binding yourself to them and saying those words aloud in front of everyone you love to someone means something to me. And I've told you that. I've told you what I wanted." You look up at him for a moment, before you realize something. It creeps along your skin like the first frost on a window pane. "Wait, are you saying that the idea of marriage doesn't mean anything to you? That you don't want to marry me?"

"Sweetheart wait a minute." Ben reaches out for you, but you take a shaky step back from him.

“What are we doing?”

“Huh?”

“I mean really. What are we doing?" Your voice is barely a whisper, but you know that Ben can hear you. Emotion makes your voice wobble as you stand there and look at him. He looks just as devastatingly handsome as he always does, but something lurks in his eyes that you can't place.

Deep down you had believed that Ben wanted to marry you, but maybe he was just waiting for the right moment, but now you weren't sure. Based on everything he'd said in the last minute you were starting to think that Ben didn't want to marry you.

If marriage doesn't mean anything to him, then does that mean he doesn't want to marry me? And then where is this going? I know that I want to get married and if he doesn't does that mean I'm not his forever?

"What do you mean?" The look on his face shifts into something else, something that looks surprisingly like fear, and to see that on Ben's face was physically jarring.

"If we're not going to get married then why are doing this? Why are we-" You look around the room, suddenly cold. "Ben, why are we together?"

You knew that you loved Ben more than anything and that you wanted to be apart of his life forever, that you wanted Ben to be your always. You wanted to say those words to Ben, to make that vow to love and cherish him for the rest of your life, but he didn't want to make them to you. Suddenly you felt like the stupid little girl that lived in Philadelphia and always did what you were told the one that watched her best friend make out with girls like Missy Callahan and longed to be with him.

"Sweetheart-" Ben says, stepping forward to touch you again, but you pull away from him. "Wait-" The tone of his voice is thick with emotion, gruff, just a rumble.

“I think you should leave." You say it, but your voice sounds hollow and far away.

It was the first time that you’d told him to leave since the night he came back to you, the first time since he came back that you wanted to be alone. You wanted to think this over, because now that you knew how he felt about marriage all you could think of is the possibility of spending years together only to be traded out by a newer model because Ben never wanted to marry you.

The people around you laughing and chatting at each of your paintings all of a sudden seem to be mocking you. Their happiness and joy taunting the warring heartbreak and hurt that swirls in the pit of your stomach. You feel your mind begin to slip into the memory of when you walked out of the bathroom at the night of the premiere, when you wove through the people who were so happy to be there while your heart was breaking. When it felt like your world was ending, and honestly, the feeling that you have now feels almost too similar to ignore.

"No I want to talk about this. I don’t want to leave.”

"I want you to." You lock eyes with him, fighting the urge to cry. "I need some time and I don't think it's a good idea for you to be here right now."

"But-" Ben's eyes haven't left you.

"Please go."

"Sweetheart-“

“No." You say sharply. "I think it would be better if you just went home. You wanted to anyway.” You let out a shaky breath, feeling your heart squeeze in your chest. "And this isn't the place for us to talk about this."

“Not because I didn’t want to be with you. I wanted to go home with you.” He emphasizes and reaches for your hand, but you move it away from him. Ben winces as if it hurts for him to be unable to touch you. Given what he'd confessed to you in the past you knew it was true.

“No I-“ You shake your head, tears burning against your eyes. “I can’t do this.”

“Can’t do what?”

“I can’t be with you if I’m not your forever. If you don't want to marry me. I-” Your eyes lock with his, hurt and heartbreak clamping around your heart in a vice. “So please just go.”

"Let me explain."

"No. I need to be alone."

“Sweetheart-“

“How many times do I have to say it? I want you to leave!”

The people around you turn to look at where Ben and you are standing, hearing your final words ring in the air between the two of you.

Ben freezes, something vulnerable crossing over his face before his expression hardens into the one that was more familiar. “Fine.”

And as he walks away, weaving through the people that stand at every canvas, you try not to feel the pit open up beneath your feet ready to swallow your broken heart whole.

When you get home the apartment is cold and dark, the shadows of your living room lengthening with every step you take towards the dark hallway and what lies beyond. Hurt, sadness, and remorse creep along your skin like a spider, it's spiderweb clinging to your body and ensnaring you like a wiggling fly in it's grasp. There was no warmth, only the cold chill of fear of what you’d find when you entered your shared bedroom.

Ben's cologne was stale, hanging in the air, but it wasn't fresh, just a reminder, and you knew deep down it was because he wasn't here. But somewhere you clung on with bloodied fingertips hoping and praying that he was.

You'd spent the rest of the evening nursing a glass of red wine, fiddling with your necklace, and talking with anyone who came up to you about the paintings, but you lacked the enthusiasm you should have.

Nothing else seemed to matter, not after the fight you'd had with Ben, and standing amongst your creations felt frivolous, especially when everything you said to him rang in your ears.

At the end of the night you'd stood at the centerpiece, looking at the familiar brushstrokes and splashes of color of the picture of Ben and you sitting on the bank of a pond while tears crept along your cheeks.

Your agent had taken your tears as tears of joy, happy that you’d sold out your show, but gazing up at the painting you regretted it's sale. It made you feel like a part of you was being sold, as if the memory you had of that day would go with the painting to it's new owner leaving you with nothing.

You'd realized as the night wore on how stupid you'd been. You wished that you could go back and apologize for everything you said to Ben, because it didn't matter, nothing else mattered to you but Ben. And you hated yourself for telling him to leave, not when you knew how much he hated it when you told him to go and when you knew after all these years he still struggled with the idea that you didn't want him with you, when in reality being without him made you feel as if you were drowning.

And right now in the aftermath of the fight, you could feel the seaweed tangling around your ankle to pull you under.

As you stood there gazing up at the painting you'd realized that maybe Ben really did think the two of you were married and maybe deep down you knew that. That it wasn't about saying those vows in an official ceremony, it was about everything the two of you said to one another every day since he came back, it was about the promises that Ben made and kept, and it was about everything the two of you had been through over the years.

A stupid ceremony and certificate didn't matter to you, not if it stood in the way of Ben and you. You'd graciously take everything he had to give you for the rest of your life, and you knew that Ben felt the same way. You knew that he wasn't going to leave you, wasn't going to cheat on you with someone else, and wasn't going to turn his back on you. Not after everything the two of you had gone through and not when you knew how much Ben loved you.

That was what you wanted to say to him now, because you felt so stupid that you yelled at him. To tell him that none of it mattered, that the only thing that mattered to you was him.

The urge to throw up surges into the back of your throat as you creep down the hallway, but when you open the bedroom door you see that the bed is empty. A cold hands traces it's way down your vertebrae bringing with it the chill of fear that you'd done it, you'd finally made Ben want to leave you, that he was fed up and he was gone for good.

You almost don't make it to the bathroom sink before you throw up the two glasses of wine you drank, the sour taste of bile and alcohol burning your throat as your hands tighten on the cool lip of the marble vanity. Sweat and tears streak down your red face as a shudder works it's way through your body.

You'd hoped that he'd be in bed, the thought was optimistic at best, but you knew that Ben couldn't go to bed without you. Even when you were up late painting Ben would always pull you away to come to bed, because he needed you there, he wanted you beside him as he drifted off, holding you close against his chest and molding his body around yours. When Ben went away for work and was gone for days, he always came back with dark circles under his eyes, and you knew he didn't sleep, because Ben couldn't sleep without you.

You could feel the ghost of his touch against your skin, causing more tears to crest and fall down your cheeks and another shudder shake your body.

You scramble to find your phone where you placed it on the counter beside you. The selfie of the two of you on your home screen pressed cheek to cheek almost mocking before you swipe your thumb frantically to find his contact. You hold it up to your ear listening to the line ring and each time it does, it's like another nail in the coffin, because Ben doesn't answer.

When the voicemail starts you're not really sure what to say.

"Hey it's me-" You clear your throat, but it does little to hide the sob. "I just got home and you're not here and I miss you." Your voice breaks. "I'm so sorry. I shouldn't have said that to you or made a big deal about it, please Ben just come home. I was being stupid and I don't want to live without-"

The message is cut off and you stand there with the phone pressed into your cheek for another minute, unable to put it down. You feel it crunch in your hand as you lose control, crying harder as you stand there in front of your vanity trying desperately not to feel like this is the end and Ben was never coming back.

The shower you take is longer than you intended, because you zone out halfway through and it's only when the water runs cold that you realize you need to get out. It's been over an hour since you got home, almost past one in the morning, but Ben still isn't there.

Instead of putting on one of your shirts you put on a pair of panties and you grab an oversized cotton shirt of Ben's that hangs mid-thigh, inhaling the familiar scent and trying to find some comfort, but all it does is remind you that he's gone and nothing compares to when he's here with you.

When you slide into bed, it's cold, and fear begins to trickle along your skin, fear that Ben was never coming back and the last thing you'd ever say to him was that you couldn't be with him and you wanted him to leave.

Something rough works it's way down your arm in a gentle motion, stirring you from sleep. One look at the alarm clock on your bedside table reveals that it's well past four in the morning. You didn't remember falling asleep all you remembered was crawling into bed and hugging Ben's pillow to your chest wishing that it was him.

You blink your eyes to adjust to the darkness, noticing a dark figure sitting on the edge of your side of the bed staring down at you. Ben's green eyes catch in the light that comes from the cracked bathroom door, flashing dark green in the mist of darkness that shrouds his body from the rest of the light. He's wearing the white button down shirt, but his suit coat and tie are missing. The first few buttons are unbuttoned and his sleeves are rolled up to his elbows, revealing freckled skin. His hand is tracing it's way over your arm, the roughness of his palm against your skin familiar, warm and comforting.

"Ben?" Your voice is hoarse and broken, for a moment unsure if this is a dream and he's not really here.

He doesn't say anything.

"Ben!" You practically shout it this time and surge upwards out of the bed to wrap your arms around his body so tightly that you think you hear the cracking of bone, but you can't control yourself now. Not when he's warm and he's here, not when he came back despite what you yelled at him.

“I shouldn’t have said what I did.” Tears were streaking down your face where it’s buried against the smooth slope his neck, saturating his dress shirt. “ I don’t want to lose you over something stupid like that.” You pull back to cup his cheeks taking in a shaky breath as you lean your forehead against his, memorizing the familiar edges you love so much. Even as close as you were to him you wanted more, you always wanted more. “I love you, only you. More than I’ve ever loved anyone, more than I ever will love anyone. I’m sorry for what I said. I’m sorry that I asked you to leave, I don’t want you to leave ever again. Whenever you’re not here it’s cold and colorless and I don’t want to live my life like that ever.” Your body shakes with sobs as you hold Ben tighter against you, afraid that he’ll vanish before your very eyes. “You and me together is enough for me. It’ll always be enough for me. We don’t have to-“

“It’s not enough for me.” Ben interrupts, his eyes not leaving your face. His expression is unreadable, the soft plains of his face sharpening in the moonlight that seeps through the bottom of the curtains of your shared bedroom.

“What?” You gasp and could feel your heart seize in your chest and your throat tighten in fear.

I can’t lose him, not again, not over a stupid argument that doesn’t mean anything when Ben means everything.

“This.” He clears his throat and gestures between the two of you. “Us being together like this, it’s not enough for me.”

It feels like you'd taken a bullet to the chest again, a sickening jolt back, and a sharp pain that follows as everything you know is stripped away. You're sure that you're about to break down into nothing, your heart crumbling in your hands as you try to hold it out to him and he turns away from you. Him saying those words to you made you feel like you had nothing left, because to know that you had him and lost him hurt more than knowing what it was like not to have him as completely as you had for the past five months.

"Ben please. I'm sorry I-" You sob, trying to cling to him, afraid to let him go, but he pulls away and stands up from the bed. "Don’t go please! Just tell me what I can do to make this right. Tell me how I can fix this." The words sound garbled as they exhale in one breath through tears and snot reaching for him frantically. "Please Ben I can't lose you-"

Ben takes your outstretched hand, gaze focused on your face. "Come on." He tugs gently, expecting you to follow him out of the bed.

"No, I want to talk about this. I don't want you to go!"

"Come on sweetheart." Ben encourages you quietly, tugging your hand once more, and this time you allow him to help you up from the bed.

You follow behind him, sobs shaking your shoulders because you're afraid Ben is taking you out to the living room to yell at you again, to tell you that he doesn't love you and you're going to find a packed bag.

But then Ben squeezes your hand to comfort you as you enter the living room and you stop dead in your tracks.

The entire room is covered in lavender, the kitchen counter, the coffee table in front of the plush leather couch, the large wooden table on the opposite side of the room that serves as your desk/workstation, and on the kitchen island broken up intermittently by candles that cast a soft honeyed light over the room. You gasp softly as Ben releases your hand, looking around the space with awe. You'd never seen so many bouquets of lavender in your entire life, each one sitting in a pretty glass vase, and in the center of the room stands one of your cherry wood colored easels holding the painting of Ben and you sitting on the bank of the pond.

You step closer to the painting, tracing the brush strokes with your eyes as you had earlier that night, reaching out to touch the edge, suddenly confused.

"Ben, what is this?" You turn to look at him, wiping the back of your hand across your face. You were sure that your eyes were puffy and that you were still covered in a layer of tears and snot, but you didn't care. Ben had seen you like this before and you were more worried about what was happening rather than how you looked.

You didn't understand what was happening, not when Ben came home so late and not when you had spent the entire night worried that he wasn't going to come back to you.

Ben is standing by the record player pushed up against the brick wall of your apartment that stands opposite your exhaustive collection of records and drops the needle. The song that begins to play is hauntingly familiar and you recognize it before Russ Columbo starts to sing.

"I can't forget the night I met you, That's all I'm dreaming of..."

It wasn't the first time that Ben and you had listened to this particular record, or danced together in the living room of your apartment in the quiet hours of the evening to "You Call It Madness, But I Call It Love." The song was filled with memories, some good, some bad that the two of you had shared over the years. The words heavy and familiar, the story much too similar to the one you shared with Ben.

A part of you is surprised that he chose to play it. You still didn't quite understand what was happening, you thought that Ben was breaking up with you, but this didn't feel like a ending.

"How did you get the painting? I sold it." You ask him.

"You made a promise to be faithful, By all the stars above…"

The song continues to play bringing memories of each time it did rising with the soft familiar swell of the music. A flash of you dancing for the first time with Ben flits across your mind bringing the usual warmth and happiness followed by the memory of your birthday when you danced together and it felt like no one else existed as if it were just the two of you left in a world where everyone else was gone.

"I know." Ben half-smiles. "I bought it."

"But why?"

"My heart is beating, For you constantly…"

He's still standing by the record player as if he's afraid to get closer to you. "Well, I've never bought any of your work and I wanted to be supportive." Ben shrugs. "And I didn't want someone else to have a piece of us Sweetheart, felt wrong."

"You're all I needed, And so I pleaded, Please come back to me…"

Your breath catches. It was the same thought you'd had when you were standing at the painting at the end of the night wishing that you hadn't sold it, wishing that you kept it for Ben and you.

"Look I-" Ben clears his throat. "I've- fuck- I’ve never had a way with words, you know that." He takes a cautionary step forward towards you as if he's afraid you'll run. "But I'm going to try my best here."

"What do you mean?"

"I'm sorry."

"You made a plaything out of romance, What do you know of love…"

"Ben no, you don't have to apologize for anything." You close the distance between the two of you, taking his hands in yours to wash away any uncertainty Ben has about touching you. "It was me, it was all me and I shouldn't have said what I said and I shouldn’t have made you leave. I hate it when you leave. I-"

"Hey. Let me say this first." Ben's thumb rubs over the back of your hand, his eyes wide and an understanding smile on his face.

"At first, a slight suggestion, That grew to light my mind, Was the eternal question…"

"Okay." Your heart was stuttering in your chest, senses overwhelmed by the lavender that covered the room.

Ben looks down at your hands for a minute. "I'm sorry that I made you cry again. I hate it when you cry, especially when it's my fault. And I'm sorry that I made you think that I didn't want to marry you.” He almost whispers it and takes a deep breath. "When you asked me forty years ago if I wanted to marry anyone the only person that I could ever see myself marrying was you. Spending my life with you, waking up with you every morning, going to bed with you, and showing you how much you mean to me. And the truth is, it's all I've been thinking about since I got back, but I-" He swallows, still not looking up at you. "Fuck. I didn't think you'd say yes. "

"True love is hard to find…"

He wanted to marry me forty years ago?

Your eyes widen. "What? Why would you think that?”

Ben's green eyes flick up to yours for a moment, raising an eyebrow to remind you that he's trying to say something.

"Sorry." You murmur, tightening your hands around his.

"I don't deserve you, I never have. Fuck, it feels like my whole life I've been trying to earn you, but I never seem to come close." He sighs. "I've fucked up so many times and I've hurt people, killed others. I fucked up our friendship and I pushed you away, because I was-” Ben tighten his jaw as if it’s difficult to say the next words, “-Shit-" he murmurs the word under his breath before he continues, "scared to fail you and scared that I couldn't be what you wanted. I thought you deserved someone better, someone good, someone who wasn't such a fuck up like me, someone who you could love you the way that you deserve and I-" Ben swallows and takes another deep breath. "I spent my life chasing away everyone who tried because I hated the thought of you with someone else.”

"And in the day I found you, my love I had to share, I built my dreams around you…"

It hurt you to hear him say those things about himself, hurt you to see him still buckle under the pressure that his father put on his shoulders, and hurt you to see how little he thought of himself. Ben was one of the strongest people you knew, but even then you knew he needed you, and you'd spent your entire life making sure that you were there for him and you weren’t going to stop now.

"Somehow you made me care…"

"And yet every time I'm with you, you've never make it seem like I don't belong there. You don’t make me feel like a fuck up or a disappointment. You don’t turn your back on me or ignore the parts of me I tried to cover up for so long from everyone else. You see me, more than anyone has.” Ben murmurs, the smile on his face breaks something deep down inside of you and you can feel the tears begin to spill all over again. He traces a rough hand along the soft smooth edges of your face. Hands that had done painful over the years but were only gentle to you, hands that held you close, and treated you with love that only you were able to see. "You make me feel loved and I thought that I'd never have that, that I didn’t deserve it, but ever since I was eight years old you've forced yourself into my life and I can't imagine a world without you in it, I don't want to."

"Ben-" Your voice breaks with a sniffle, eyes brimming with fresh tears.

"Shh. I've still got a few more things." Ben smiles, brushing away a tear from your cheek. "You know my old man never gave me any advice that was worth a damn, but your dad did. He said that there's going to be a lot of women I run into and that most men pick from first glance the flashy ones that don’t last, the ones that aren't willing to stay for long, and the ones that care about all the wrong things. Your dad told me that I should pick someone that understands me better than I understand myself, someone who holds me accountable, someone that doesn't put up with any of my bullshit, someone to grow with, someone who loves me even if I believe they shouldn’t, and someone that makes me a better man." He chuckles under his breath. "And I knew exactly who he was talking about the minute he said it, because it's you sweetheart, it's always been you, from the moment you walked into that damn study and lied to my father about where I was."

"My heart is beating, For you constantly…"

The song is in full swing now, but you can barely hear it, all you can hear is Ben's steady heartbeat and yours beating together in tandem. The love you feel for him swelling in your chest with the music and with his words. You want so badly to pull him close and tell him how much you love him, how he's the only one, how he's everything you dreamed of, but you're trying not to interrupt him.

"Eighty years ago I made a mistake, I asked you to leave everything behind and come with me, because I couldn't lose you and because I couldn’t stand to see you with someone else. I didn't ask you to marry me, I didn't tell you how much you meant to me or that I loved you. I was selfish and I took advantage of our friendship. I strung you along all those fucking years, made you wait-"

"You didn’t take advantage of our friendship-“ You begin to say.

"Sweetheart please." He squeezes your hand and continues. "Forty years ago I made another mistake." He closes his eyes as if trying to forget for a moment, before he looks you in the eye once more. "I had everything I wanted for one night and then I fucking lost it. I treated you like you meant nothing to me. I threw you away. I said terrible things to push you away. I hurt you, and I will regret those things for the rest of my life, because it’s not true, you mean everything to me."

"You're all I needed, And so I pleaded, Please come back to me…"

You raise your free hand to his cheek. "I've forgiven you." You whisper and Ben leans into your hand.

"I know. And I don't deserve that, I don’t deserve you, I never have and I don’t think I ever will. You have meant more to me than anyone in my entire life. You are my family and my home. You have stood by me and loved me despite all the terrible shitty things I've done. You have seen me at my worst and you never left. Being your boyfriend isn’t enough for me. You being my girlfriend isn’t enough and frankly, it doesn’t feel like the right word for you not when you mean this much to me and not when you're the only person I need. So I'm asking you," Ben drops down on one knee, making your breath catch in your chest.

"Eighty years too late, to spend the rest of your life with me. Because I've spent the past forty without you and I don't want to spend another second regretting that I didn't do this eighty years ago. I'm asking you to chose me one more time, Sweetheart, and I promise that every day I will chose you every day for as long as I live. You said that you wanted to be my forever, well sweetheart, I can't imagine anything better." Ben swallows and reaches into his coat with his free hand, his right still holding on to yours, for a black suede box. "Will you marry me?"

You stand there for a moment stunned as he opens the box in his hand, gazing up at you like you're the sun as if you shone so brightly that the heavenly hosts bowed to your brilliance and he can't help but worship you. It's the same way that you saw the couple looking at each other the night Ben and you danced for the first time that continues to play in your silent apartment, bathed in the golden glow of candle light.

You gaze at Ben, eyes tracing the familiar face, seeing the old parts of him and the new ones that you'd come to love. You could see the boy you grew up with and the man he became, the same one you knew as a child and the man you fell in love with. The one who always put you first, who cared for you, protected you, and the one you thought you lost years ago.

The ring nestled in the black velvet is everything you imagined it to be. It's perfect, elegant, classic, it's you in every way, and it only proves to you again how well Ben knows you.

You could remember the day that Howard proposed, when all you felt was dread as he dropped to one knee in the dining room in front of your parents and revealed the ugliest piece of jewelry you’d ever seen, when he didn't make a grand gesture, didn’t profess his love to you, and didn’t make you feel special.

But Ben did. He always made you feel special, seen, loved, and appreciated. You refused to live another moment away from him and refused to deprive yourself of this indulgence, of him.

Ben had saved you more times than you could count and the day he took you away from Philadelphia was one of them. Away from a man who didn't love you, who didn't appreciate you, and who didn't think that you were worth more than a trophy to parade around a city.

You smile at the ring, tears glazing your eyes, because after all these years, you were right, Ben knew exactly the ring to get you and he knew exactly what to say to make everything else fade away into the past and have you hopeful for the coming future with him.

"Sweetheart?" Ben murmurs, looking suddenly worried and you realize that you haven’t given him an answer.

You look from the ring to the man you love with your entire being. "Took you long enough Benjamin."

Ben's smile makes you melt from the inside out. “Is that a yes?”

“Of course it’s a yes." You smile, vision blurring as Ben smiles even wider and puts the ring on your finger, before rising up from the ground to capture your lips against his as if he wishes for the two of you to fall in love all over again.

"There isn't anyone else Ben." You murmur against his lips. "There never has been and there never will be. All I want is you and me, forever."

Ben kisses you all over again, his hands holding you so tight against his chest that it’s almost painful, your own tangled in his hair, but you can't stop and you don't want him to either. Not when this was what you wished for, not when this was what you wanted for so long and you thought you'd never had, and not when you'd thought you'd lost him.

"Then I'll give it to you sweetheart." Ben presses his forehead against yours, his eyes shining. "I'll give you forever."

"And you call it madness, Oh but I call it love…"

A/n: I'm not crying... I lied, I am BIG time. Goodness, finishing this series is like saying goodbye to characters that feel like my children. Honestly, I can’t believe that we've finally all made it here, but here it is. There are so many people that I want to thank, too many to name, those who have been here from the beginning and those who came later, people who's constant comments, reblogs, and encouragements made me turn this story from one chapter into a multi-chapter fic. There are just so many wonderful people that I've interacted with on this site that made me want to continue writing and helped me find confidence in how I wrote and this fic is for them.

As always thank you so much for reading! This series will be continued in the form of some one-shots that I am plotting out currently and I have a lot of really cute ideas and some that are more angsty. Let me know if you'd like to be added to the taglist for future fics in this universe. ❤️🥰

Taglist:

@roseblue373 @anundyingfidelity @cheynovak @cassiecasluciluce @muhahaha303

@deans-spinster-witch @kayleighmeister @demodemo909 @fruitfacess @bobbobbobinogs

@bughill126 @simplyfixated @tiredstrangerr @freefallthoughts @onlyangel-444

@lov3vivian @mxltifxnd0m @mayafatimakhan @marvel-mistress @my-obsession-spn

@lifeonawhim @liuope @brynanna @carpenterswife

@xxannyxx

@babyinatrench-coat1 @the-gentle-spirit @valryomen @cassieriddle713 @shaggzthatsnottheworm

@lil-soup @ej13928 @topstory21 @boywivlove

@mrsjenniferwinchester

@vivre-dans-la-nuit @megara0224 @daisy-the-quake @thesilmarillionblog @samanddeaninatrenchcoat

@libby99hb @peachhiz @tinydancer40 @tinystarfishgalaxy

@jvanilly

@libby99hb @lunaticgurly @i-am-typing @52ndstreeet

@anna6307

@pixviee @soldiergrimes @ladysparkles78 @ahoytothestorm

@octoazzy @modiddys-blog @marmie-noir @practicallylivesonline

@impala67stellawinchester

@everlove @dangerousgardenchild

#soldier boy x reader #soldier boy x you #jensen ackles #soldier boy #soldier boy x female reader #jensen ackles soldier boy #soldier boy/ben #the boys amazon #the boys fanfic #soldier boy fanfiction #soldier boy fic

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dlscenarios · 8 months ago

Text

Wonderland

Colin Bridgerton x f!Reader SMUT

"Secrets I have held in my heart are harder to hide than I thought..."

Cw: BRIEF BOOK SPOILER (only Danbury's lil contest, nothing more), SMUT, Feminine Reader (No body parts mentioned but they wear a nightgown & deemed a "lady of the ton"), Period accurate ideals on propriety & marriage, Dominant Colin/Sub Reader, First Time, Blowjob (I have never written a blowjob so in depth, my god), Come Eating

Started Kinktober with a Bridgerton, ending it with a DIFFERENT Bridgerton.

MDNI

All was quiet in your house. The clock in your room told you it was after midnight; everyone in your house was surely asleep, even the few servants your parents hired. Yet you were firmly planted at your writing desk, rereading another Whistledown article. After Lady Danbury's promise of a thousand pounds to whomever unmasks the anonymous writer, you had been working tirelessly to scan every page and find any slips in her identity.

The candle at your side was nearing its end when you heard a sudden rapping at your window. Jumping in your seat, you whipped around only to roll your eyes at the familiar figure. You set your quill in its holder and stood to open the window.

"Colin, what on earth are you doing here?" You chastised, stepping back as he climbed into your room. You lowered your voice, "It's the middle of the night!"

"I merely wished to see a friend." He flashed that cheeky, boyish grin that you swore you've seen millions of times before as he straightened his waistcoat.

You shut the window behind him, peering out to check the street. "What if someone saw you?"

"It's the middle of the night." He repeated your words and smiled innocently at the glare you shot him. "Speaking of..." He gestured toward your desk. "What has kept you up?"

You sighed through your nose and paced back to it, stacking the papers into a neat pile. "I'm afraid your sister has gotten into my head. She believes Whistledown has made a mistake in one of her issues that could lead to her identity. Besides, I could use a thousand pounds, so I might as well join the hunt."

"Found anything?" Colin stepped up to your side, peering down the articles in your hands.

"Not yet, but I only just started the 1815 editions." Avoiding his gaze, you left your desk to store the papers in a drawer, unaware that his eyes followed your every move. "In any case, you should not be here."

Colin rolled his eyes and groaned, "This again?"

"If anyone saw you scaling the second story of a house that is not yours, this could turn into a scandal."

"Why would I be scaling my own house anyway?"

"That is beside the point." You jabbed an index finger in his direction. "Just because it is late does not mean all of Mayfair is asleep."

"Says the one presently only in a nightgown." He retorted, knowing damn well it would cease your nagging about propriety. Your state of dress looked just as scandalous as his appearance in your room.

Your arms crossed over your chest. You hoped the action came off as more annoyance than sudden awareness of how little you were wearing. "It was not as if someone awarded me the chance to grab a robe. Besides, we have known each other for years. You saw me in leading strings."

"A child viewing another child in full dress is nothing compared to a grown man seeing a beautiful lady in nothing but a thin nightgown."

Your head tilted as his word choice dawned on you. "Beautiful? Colin-"

"Perhaps I said too much." He interrupted and turned to the same window he had come in through, avoiding meeting your eyes in shame.

You dashed in front of him and spread your arms, effectively blocking him from his escape. "No, no, no! You are not leaving after that."

Colin cracked a side smile, teasing, "Were you not just nagging me for being here?"

"That was before you said I was beautiful." You hesitantly lowered your arms. "Did you mean that?"

He stepped closer, green eyes bearing into your own. They only briefly shifted to your lips before returning. "Of course I meant it. Look at you." His gaze darted around your body. "It is baffling that you are nearing spinsterhood with no suitors. You are beautiful, intelligent, caring, witty...Any man would be lucky to have you."

Your heart caught in your chest. The man in front of you had been a friend for most of your life — had always called on you just to cheer you up after you failed to receive suitors — and you had found yourself wishing he was more for around half of that, but it had always been nothing more than an unrealistic fantasy to you. Colin was a Bridgerton for Christ's sake. He had women practically throwing themselves at him, especially after his return from traveling and attendance in the ongoing social season. Why would he be interested in you? Or worse, anyone like you.

A skeptic smile grew on your face. "It seems as if Cyprus has changed you. You never said I was anything close to beautiful before."

His eyes never left yours as he whispered, "Perhaps it did. However...I have learned a lot from my travels, including how I have been taking you for granted. I could not function without your letters. That was why I kept writing you. I would send correspondence to my family, of course, but you were the only one I wrote to every single week. Even my own mother did not hear from me that often. And every time you sent a letter back, I dropped every plan I had just to read it and respond. If anything, Cyprus made me realize how much I need you in my life. "

"Colin..." You started only to trail off. You had no idea what to say. His confession felt almost like a dream, one you'd surely wake from at any moment. His face was closer than it had ever been during your entire friendship. That alone would have made you speechless, but the words accompanying it...

"I need you, Y/N..." His voice came out quieter, nearly low enough to miss.

You repeated his name again, slowly realizing that his face was, indeed, getting closer. Your eyes fluttered shut on instinct and, not a second later, the very real softness of lips were on yours. A hand brushed up your neck, its thumb caressing your jaw once it rested below your ear as Colin deepened the kiss. His tongue prodded against your bottom lip, coaxing it apart from its upper half to seek out your own tongue. His other hand grazed along your bare arm, leaving a warm, ticklish trail in its wake as it gripped your shoulder. Its twin lowered and rested at your back, keeping you perfectly still against Colin.

As your own hands rose to cup Colin's face, the sudden chill of the window's glass touching your upper back lead you to retreat further into him. Colin moaned against your lips, quickly noticing the way your nipples pebbled through the thin cotton of your gown. You returned his moan as if on instinct before the hand situated on your back slipped lower, an open palm taking your ass into it.

You gasped, parting from Colin much to his chagrin. As if the kiss had been a veil to the outside world, blocking every other feeling aside from his hands and lips, you gazed up at him, noticing the unfamiliar sensation of his arousal against you. Colin was unable to stop himself from leaning in for another, softer peck all while never tearing his eyes from yours.

His breath fanned against your parted lips as he muttered, "You have no idea how long I have wanted to do that." The hand on your backside moved tantalizingly slow up your back as he continued. "How long I have wanted to have you like this. How I have thought of you every night I was away and wished you were in that bed with me."

"Colin..," you whispered, unable to form any other words in your head.

He pecked your cheek before leaning closer to your ear, "I love you."

You chased his words, turning your head just enough to breathe against his cheek. He slowly placed another kiss to you, then one on your temple, and again on your warm cheek then finally back to your lips. Surely, you thought, Colin could feel your heart nearly beating out of your chest every time his lips touched your skin. Both of his hands trailed down your sides as you feebly gripped the lapel of his coat, suddenly wishing to throw it off of him.

You had missed the faint smirk Colin wore as he pecked your cheek again. "Were you not just trying to kick me out, my love~?" He held you closer, despite how you impossible you thought that was, and softly pressed a kiss to your shoulder. "This could be scandalous~"

You remained speechless as he straightened his stance, hand slithering up to take yours. Your hold lessened on his clothing and briefly glanced to his lips before rising to mirthful eyes.

Colin smirked, lightly squeezing your hand and leaning his forehead onto yours, "You're beautiful...You're perfect." You tilted your head up, capturing his lips in a feeble kiss before he pulled away. "If we do not stop, this truly will cause a scandal~”

The glint of knowing in your eyes didn't go unnoticed. He wanted you. In the way you'd been taught only a husband should want his spouse, he wanted you. The way that, if the ton found out of this, would claim Colin had ruined you, but perhaps he already had as you found yourself wanting him in that same way. Your free hand trailed down along his front, never looking away from the hint of worry in his gaze.

"Please..." you muttered. He studied you for a brief moment before gathering you into his arms again and bringing you into a softer, loving kiss. An innocent kiss despite the fact that the hardness in his trousers still poked you. His lips left yours to mouth at your neck then your shoulder. Your head lolled back against the window as you quietly moaned, "Colin..."

He pressed another kiss to your neck, followed by one right below your ear as his voice, now gruff and laced with need, whispered, "I have an idea."

Colin's hands still secured you against him. If you were being honest, it was the only thing holding you up. You stared at him curiously and waited for him to continue.

"On your knees."

The command struck a cord within as you immediately sunk down to the floor in front of him, still gazing up at him as he sucked in a sharp breath. His hand pushed your hair back and away from your face. One of your own remained stagnant on his thigh. Colin had to bite back an expletive. He never thought you could look any more beautiful than you did at that moment, looking up at him with nothing but love and patience for his next move.

Biting his lip, Colin threw off his coat and tugged at his cravat. After undoing the few buttons of his shirt, his hand paused by the button on the side of his trousers. He looked down with a silent ask if you wanted to continue. Your breathing had become heavier as you nodded. Colin's free hand stole yours from his thigh, thumb grazing over the skin reassuringly as he undid his trousers. They fell in time with his undergarments, leaving his lower half completely exposed in front of you.

Your breath caught in your chest. As one would assume from an unmarried person in society, you had never seen anyone so exposed in person. Only your dreams had you imagined such, most of which involved your closest friend currently aroused by mere kisses. You looked up at him for guidance, unsure of what he wanted you to do.

He took his erection into his free hand, lining it up with your parted lips.

"Open..." His soft command almost came out like a plea. Slowly and hesitantly, your lips parted further, briefly glancing to his cock before darting back to his face. "Poke your tongue out."

You did as told, free hand digging into the fabric of your skirt before his tip made contact with your tongue. He paused there for a moment, whether waiting for assurance to continue or admiring through view, you couldn't tell. The hand tightly holding yours left to gather your hair into it.

"Close your mouth. I'll move slow. Watch your teeth." He waited perfectly still for your lips to wrap around the head of his hardened cock. Carefully, he pushed into your mouth, whispering a moan as he felt the warm heat enclose around him.

With each shallow thrust of his hips, he tested guiding you further along his length until your nose brushed against the thatch of dark hair at the base. Colin released a louder moan, not loud enough to alert your family of his presence, of course. You let him guide your head, eyes fluttering shut as your tongue runs along his skin.

The act itself had never made it into your fantasies, but you were certain the memory would plague you for the rest of your life. You savored Colin's touch, his moans, his taste as if he'd disappear after he was finished. That by some cruel twist of fate, he wouldn't remember this encounter come morning and you would be relegated to his side as nothing but a friend. Your throat contracted around the tip as his grip grew tighter in your hair.

His thrusts grew shorter but quicker. A shuttered whisper of "God..." clued you in and why. He was close, which meant he was enjoying your mouth pleasing him. You were the one making him feel that way, not some woman he'd met during his travels and not a meaningless debutante he'd plucked from the dance floor.

"Fuck, I can't..." he whispered — the first time he'd sworn in your presence, really — before thrusting a final time against your tongue and pulling you away. He gripped himself with his other hand, the one still weaved in your hand tilting your chin up. As he began to stroke himself, the slick squishes of your saliva mixing with his pants as the only sounds in the room, his green eyes met your glassy ones.

"Open..." he commanded. You did just as he asked, eyes closing as he released another melodic moan before feeling something hit your tongue. Colin continued to groan above you, his seed landing against your lips, a bit dripping down your chin.

When he finally released your head, your eyes opened and instinctively swallowed the slightly sticky substance. It wasn't bad, you blushed at the realization. You met Colin's eyes as he tried to catch his breath.

"God..," he uttered, thumb going to swipe the remnants of his come from your kiss-bruised lips, only to be stopped when you kissed the pad of it and parting your lips enough to suck the clear, sticky substance off. Colin huffed, an adoring smirk blooming on his face, "You're going to be the death of me."

After releasing his thumb, he helped you stand, your arms wrapping around his neck in an attempt at keeping yourself steady. You ripped your gaze away to find your clock, seeing just how late it had gotten. Colin pecked your cheek.

"I will leave you to rest." His whispered words coaxed you back to his face. "Perhaps our families could promenade at the park tomorrow. I'm sure they will like to know their children are engaged."

Your eyes widen at his smirk. "Engaged...?"

"You did not think I would confess my love and leave without a proposal, did you?" Colin quipped, once again causing your heart to nearly beat out of your chest.

Not knowing how else to respond, you whispered, "I love you..."

Colin softly kissed you, his nose brushing against yours as you part before he responds with a smile. "And I love you, fiancé~"

As a grin spread across yours face, Colin held you tighter. If it weren't for the scandal of it all, you hoped he'd never leave. You hoped to never leave.

#bridgerton #bridgerton x you #colin bridgerton #colin bridgerton x reader #colin bridgerton x you #bridgerton x reader smut #colin bridgerton smut #bridgerton x female reader #bridgerton x reader #bridgerton smut #kinktober 2024 #kinktober

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worldly-fluster · 6 months ago

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WARNING: ANGST

So. As I've said in Zayne's, I'm gonna make this one (or try anyway) very very much angst.

--Rafayel-- Part 4 of 4

Last but not least, Fishy.

This is gonna be a little different from the other three, there might be death, but in the end there will be some comfort. I can't have angst without a little comfort in the end or I feel big sad lol.

Rafayel-

•He could get used to this.

•Your smiles and laughs that seem to be for only him.

•You can match his jokes with your sharp tongue and funny humor. He adores when you give him that confident look paired with your hand on the hip and flick of the wrist.

•This is what he knew you could be.

•Not like how he found you.

•Never again. No more silence, stares into the void with no sparkly shine in your eyes. Blank and waiting for something.

•Oh if he got his hands on whomever did that to you before he met you...

•He loves that he can finally help you be yourself now, and always.

•Honestly he just wants to stay with you, but then you would have missions. Constantly.

•This time was supposed to be a normal mission. Like all the others.

•You told him a day, two at least. And you'll be back. You even gave him a bag of yours so you would have a reason to come back to him, instead of straight home.

•He waited for those two days. Before he got a message from Thomas.

•Thomas told him to look at the news, and what he saw made his skin wash in a cold sweat and his breathe leave him.

•It was the place of your mission, they were talking about the casualties and how many are yet to be recovered.

•They showed videos of the carnage. He felt sick.

•He called, texted, and yet no answer. It felt like a cruel prank, like a punch to the gut by the tail of a whale.

•Where were you, were you okay?...Maybe your bag that you left had something to help? He doesn't know why he thought that but he needed to do something other than panic.

•He refuses to believe you could be gone. Not again.

•He opened it and didn't find much, your favorite plushie, a large hoodie, a notebook, a plastic bottle full of sea shells and sand-wait the notebook? Maybe it has something right?

•He opened it to a random page and...wait...why...No. No.NoNoNo that can't be it.

•Why would you give him this? This is talking about how to help him feel better after you d- No, there has to be something else. Something he's not getting.

•You can't be, no way, not yet. You're supposed to grow old next to him. You can't leave him alone again.

•No way would you know-...wait, this is the bag you gave him every time you went on a mission like this...

•But there were times when you would just give him the bag for no reason- there has to be more to it right?

•He reads just a little more.

•What...he can't...he can't breathe, it feels like the weight of the ocean is on him again...

•He throws the book across the room and picks up his phone again and before he can call you again, his phone rings.

•Its you.

•He hardly lets the phone ring twice, only because of his initial shock, when he answers.

•"Where the hell are you?! You-! You need to-! I can't-! Why..."

•He can barely get anymore words out before he chokes on the words, his pearly tears streaming down his paler than normal face.

•"I-I need you...to come here. Now. Please."

•He hears your soothing sweet voice telling him you'll be there in a few minutes, you were already on your way when you called back.

•It feels like years to him before he hears you walking up to his door.

•He has it open before you can make it to the threshold. He's a mess, his hair all over the place, his clothes wrinkled and front slightly wet, his face a little puffy and red from tears.

•His shaky yet strong arms are around you in seconds.

•"You're not leaving me again. Not for work, missions, or just out with friends. I can't- won't let you out of my sight until the ocean dries up. And even then I can't stand it, you're not going anywhere..."

•You can see behind him over his shaking shoulder, the bag you left is on the floor opened. The notebook can be seen practically torn in half on the far side of the room.

•You have tears in your eyes as you realize he read it's content, there isn't any going back from that.

•You hug him back as you say, "I wouldn't have it any other way, honestly."

•He hugs you close to him for what seems like hours, breathing in your sent, feeling your warmth. Knowing that sooner or later he will have to let you go...but that can be later. Not now, he wishes never.

***😁 @an-ever-angry-bi ***

#love and deepspace #love and deepspace sylus #xavier love and deepspace #zayne love and deepspace #rafayel love and deepspace #love and deepspace imagine #lads sylus #l&ds sylus #lads rafayel #l&ds #l&ds rafayel #lads angst #angst #hurt/comfort #hurt/comfort kinda anyway

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dances-with-pans · 1 month ago

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some vessel and little ghost HC's while I'm thinking about them

what if all the things we see in game are provided as Ghost's way of communication or aid? @hollownest-whore mentioned that the music in the game could be interpreted as their emotions, but what if it's all their way of communication? the prompts to use a key or to buy a map with yes or no options to let the player choose, even though it is rare that people ever choose no? the simple, objective descriptions of key points in the game so you can figure out where to continue from (like the corpse in the wastes)? all throughout the game, they translate everything from signs to speech in clear English, and yet they only seem to pick the stuff that might be deemed important, as smaller signs in the crossroads and elsewhere are left untouched. I probably haven't explained it very clearly because honestly it's about midnight where I am, but what if they know what's going on, and they're doing their best to help it move forward? It almost seems like they know they're not the one in control, and they're doing their very best to provide help along the way. They've got one job, but the getting there's not their business. They provide the necessities, and whomever is in control does the rest. When it's over, it's over.

Moving on to other things that are fun to think about, how about the common HC of voidspeak? how does that work? personally, I'd like to think it's a bit of a hive mind, but with cubicles. they can all hear their siblings tapping away in their spaces, but unless the stand up and look, they can't see what's going on. what if sometimes, when one wants a bit of privacy, they could close their little mind cubicle to themselves? and what if they all think really, really quietly? so quietly they can hear everyone else (who's not a vessel) like chatter in a restaurant? how quiet is a vessel's whole existence? what if bugs can never hear their footsteps until they're right there? what if bugs forget that a vessel was ever in the room when they've had their back turned for too long? I don't think a vessel could be truly forgotten; they all still leave a fairly significant mark, and they're definitely made of something. but, is that why ghost makes so much noise, why they can break almost everything within reach? is it so they make just that little bit more noise in the world?

and what's the deal with their masks? it would appear the only thing truly solid and tangible about a vessel is their mask. when ghost dies, it's the only solid thing they leave behind, and even that dissipates. maybe it's their only natural connection to the real world? maybe the only way they can really interact and wander around as the nothingness they are if they have a mask, and maybe that's why all the ones who's masks shattered didn't make it. it does appear that most of what a vessel is is its shade, but what if the vessel for the vessel (haha) is the mask?

that came out way less eloquent than I meant and may not actually make any sense, but if whoever finds this post would like to play some smooth jazz from the void, that would be much appreciated.

#pan banging #hollow knight #hk little ghost #hk the knight

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suevi-if · 1 month ago

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Sneak Peek: "Family dynamics" feat. MC and their sibling

Things in brackets are notes to myself for coding/words that will be gendered in coding. The word count is around 500-600 words.

Also, keep in mind that I might still tweak this text, this might not be the final version that'll make it into the story.

Have fun reading! <3

“Wait for me!” [sibling name] comes running from your longhouse. Your father looks at him/her with narrowed eyes, the corners of his mouth pulling down into a frown.

“Don’t let him/her join you,” he utters before [patting your shoulder/giving you a nod] and turning on his heel, then striding past [sibling name], giving [him/her] a quick look of disapproval.

[Sibling name] comes to a halt next to your horse. “Now that father is gone, let me get my horse real quick and we can leave,” he/she says, a big smirk plastered across his/her face.

“No way. I’m not letting you come with me. You heard father. If he finds out, he will first make sure I will never even have the chance to become chieftain, or anything else for that matter, just to torture me; and then he will kill me with his bare hands,” you answer him/her.

"But I want to go to the assembly, too! Why can't I just come with you, [Name]?" [sibling name] bristles with anger, fists balled.

You look at your brother/sister and sigh, a pained look on your face. "Listen, father already told you. Because father is our chieftain, it would be his place to go to the ting [[note: this is a Germanic assembly]]. But he has a bad back, so he can't travel that far, and can’t defend himself so well in case something goes wrong. I'm the next in line. You are too young, and aren’t experienced enough, and you also need to help father while I'm gone."

"Why can't the others in the clan help?! Why do I have to stay? This is not fair! How would I ever gain experience with such tasks if I’m not allowed to come with you?" he/she pouts.

{If friendly with sibling} Your gaze softens. "No, it is not fair. But it's what has to be done. You heard father — it might be dangerous. We don’t know anything about their motives. I might even get attacked. So please, let me leave, and don’t follow me. Father needs your help, and he needs me to go to the ting."

"You might get attacked?" he/she asks, eyes widening in shock, "But then you could really use my help. I'll always defend you, you’re my big [sibling] after all. If something happened to you... What would I ever do without you?" his/her eyes fill with tears.

“Please, don’t cry,” you wince. You didn’t want that to happen. You didn’t want him/her to get so emotional. He/she needs to be strong; for you, for your father, and for your clan.

“Promise me you come back safe then,” he/she sniffs.

"Fine," you smile at him/her gently, "and next time, I’ll take you with me."

"Promise?" his/her eyes light up.

"Promise." you reply. He/She walks away happily, with a spring to his/her step. A melancholic smile graces your lips while your gaze follows him/her. "I'm glad I wasn't married off and was able to watch you grow up. I hope you'll always stay as you are, my dearest little [sibling]," you murmur to yourself.

What you overheard all these years ago comes back to your mind. Your father hasn't talked to you about it, ever. Come to think of it, from what he said, it seems like he hasn't given an answer to whomever it was he truly talked with back then. You wonder if he was honest with you — his behaviour was rather strange.

…

{If not friendly with sibling} Your gaze hardens. "Father said no, and I won't repeat what he said, [sibling name]. You heard him. You have to help father, and I go to the ting. End of discussion." [Sibling name] storms off, face contorted into an angry grimace.

You sigh deeply. "He/She is so exhausting to deal with. I almost wish I would have gotten married off, so I didn't have to engage with [him/her] all the damn time," you murmur to yourself.

...

#sneak peek #mc #if wip #writing #interactive fiction #suevi-if

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zachdanielswhisky · 1 month ago

Note

ngl it’s a little (a lot) fucked up to not only armchair diagnose someone with DID but to post about it in a pretentious and snotty way. like if whomever you’re vagueing about does have DID how do you know they don’t? not everyone who has DID is out about it bc of the stigma around it. also you phrasing it as a moral failing that someone might not know is weird. most people don’t know they have DID until their adults. that entire post came off ignorant.

justifying making that post by saying that they probably don’t follow you anymore is also kinda fucked bc the only thing you’ve done here is show the people who still DO follow you thag not only are you okay with vaguing about someone’s mental illness but that you saw behavior you disliked and clocked it as something that has huge stigma around it. nice to know we all have to monitor our actions around you otherwise we might get an armchair diagnoses of the illness making us annoying to you.

Damb talk about reading into something so much that you come into MY (person with OSDD) ask box and make some bold ass claims lmao

Anyway, you don't need DID to be plural, you don't need a diagnosis to be plural, traumagenic AND endogenic systems are completely valid, tulpas and soulbonds are real even if you or I don't fully understand them, and SOMETIMES, realizing you're plural and that that one character you're extremely invested in and get irked and uncomfortable when they're portrayed differently than your perception of them is actually because they're in your brain and having a visceral reaction to things that are happening that they don't have control over

And frankly it's offensive that you think I meant my post as ANY type of dig at anyone instead of me simply expressing "this realization was so gratifying for me, and I hope other people can get that gratification too at some point because I see my experiences in the way they respond to things", which is in fact, not an armchair diagnosis. It's saying "hey, this helped me, maybe it'll help you and you can look into it on your own"

Anyway, I love being plural, I love the 400 people in my brain, I love my friends who are plural, and if plurality is something that helps anyone find clarity, all the better for them. I'm sorry DID or the like is something that's so scary to you, anon.

#ask #anon #anyway anyone struggling with realizing they're plural in any way is welcome to talk to me #it can be scary but I've known about my own plurality at minimum 8 years at this point #and it's helped sooooo much with figuring out why certain things make me so upset

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buzzquill · 2 months ago

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Dean

Or whomever finds this

But, probably Dean,

If you are reading this, then I finally let myself be truly happy and, therefore, am gone. Dead. Swallowed whole by The Empty. And I hope I saved this moment for when it was truly needed.

There will be no body to find, no feathers, no lingering grace - The Empty is efficient in its erasures. I apologize for that, though I suppose it’s fitting. I was never meant to remain here as long as I did.

Please, do not try to undo this. I know your instinct is to fix what breaks. Even me. But there is nothing to repair. This was my choice. One of the only true ones I’ve made. And I would make it again, a thousand times over, if it meant your life continued.

I’ve wanted to write this for some time, but the words never came easily. I feared what they might reveal, or what they might cost you. But silence has always been my cowardice, not my mercy.

So let me speak now, plainly, and without condition: I have loved you, Dean Winchester. Deeply. Quietly. Completely.

Not only in the moment I said it, not only as I died, but across time, across battlefields, across Heaven and Earth and every empty space in between.

You taught me that faith was not obedience, but devotion. Not to rules or gods, but to people - messy, fragile, beautiful people. And I devoted myself to you.

You once asked me why I stayed. Why I kept coming back. I gave you answers that made sense: Heaven, duty, the mission, the beautiful mess of mankind. The truth, however, is far simpler:

I stayed because you were there.

Because your voice made the world less deafening.

Because your pain made mine feel understood.

Because your stubborn, relentless, reckless heart became the thing I most wanted to protect.

There is grace in you, Dean, even when you cannot feel it. Especially then. You carry your sorrow like armor, but I have seen the way you love. Fierce. Defiant. Unspoken. It changed me.

You were the first human I ever truly understood - and the only one I never stopped choosing.

I used to believe that angels couldn’t feel longing. That we were above such silly things. But I learned, slowly and painfully, that eternity means nothing without something - someone - to yearn for.

You became my eternity, even as I was running out of time.

And if there is any kindness in the universe at all, then let it be this: that you live. That you are allowed peace. That you find, at last, a day with no monsters. Only sunlight. And that you let yourself stand in it.

Dean, if you remember anything of me, let it be this:

That I saw you. All of you. The anger. The guilt. The softness you hide. And I did not turn away. I loved you in your entirety. Not despite your wounds, but because of them.

You do not owe me grief. Or guilt. Or even memory. But if, someday, there is a quiet moment and you find yourself asking whether anyone truly knew you:

You were known. And you were loved.

And, again, so there is no confusion, no need for interpretation or doubt:

I love you, Dean. I think I always have. Not as duty. Not as debt. Not even as fate. But as a man who saw something vast and terrible in the world… and still found you worth loving anyway.

Yours,

-- Castiel

This is just a thing I've been thinking about. Inspired by the letter Bill wrote to Joel in The Last of Us. I'm thinking of starting a series of letters that would've been written in supernatural. Idk

#buzzquill #supernatural #buzzquill writes #dean winchester #castiel #castiel fanfiction #dean x castiel #deancas #destiel #destiel fanfic #the last of us

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purplesannnieee · 10 months ago

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Lay All Your Love On Me

A/n: Currently, I'm caught up on all the ep in tdb, though I still haven't got Jiro's personality, so I heavily apologize if I do him wrong @sunncat! This literally doesn't help either bc I haven't watched Demon Slayer, so I don't fully know Shinobu other than some vids I watched from Tik Tok 💀. I hope you enjoy this though! And I really do apologize for when you read this, it isn't how you thought it would go TT (I also apologize the fact that it's a bit rushed(?)), 1.4k words, somewhat grammar checked, or technically partially proof read? goodnight cheese

summary: as a second year at darkwick academy, you used to be under vagastrom before transferring to mortkranken for unknown reasons. while yuri's glad that it isn't just him and jiro who are ghouls, jiro's rather curious to why specifically mortkranken. warnings: mentions of death, erm, fem!reader that's similar to shinobu kocho, shawty, I don't know shit about anything medical, so to whomever reads this that is way more of an expert in this, I'm so sorry, if I potentially make you pissed in any way, mentions of self-harm(through poison), reader makes jiro's heart go boom boom boom boom boom (i hope someone gets what i'm referring to), oh, and vague ahh mention of alan, I think jiro might be a lil bit ooc, yeah, he is, mf be peeking a lil bit, but more out of admiration than erm, nasty boy thought reasons, oh fuck, this is a bit angsty, whoops, poor yuri's a bit traumatized

Life always managed to piss you off. You used to express it too, though not anymore really. You truly did enjoy your stay at Vagastrom, however, you had your reasons as to why you transferred to Mortkranken. Despite the captain hoping you would open up, you wouldn't budge. This was something you would rather keep to yourself. Well, if only that stupid Masterpiece News, whoever it was, decided to leak about your sister dying from the Clash. Despite wanting to murder whoever did it, you figured that would be for another time. For now, you were more focused on finding a way to kill the bastard that killed your sister in the first place.

Before you knew it, class had ended. Admittedly, despite being in the same year as both Yuri and Jiro, you didn't always share the same classes with them. Well, it's not like you could do much about that. You did have different goals from them after all. Granted, while you had the same effort and energy for yours just like Yuri's, you considered it more noble than yours. And for the most part, he didn't seem to care much about it.

Well, maybe not upfront. However, instead, Jiro would ask you as the two of you would sometimes walk to class from Mortkranken's dormitory. "Y/n, Yuri wants to see us," Jiro said, as you looked up to the taller male. You were inclined to not smile, but you simply nodded your head. "Where at?" You asked cheerfully, as you passed by some people. Some of them, whisper, confused as to how you could manage to be in the presence of "Frankenstein". Especially with some of your former house members, which you couldn't help but scoff. For a bunch of delinquents, were they seriously that scared of a rumor? Not that you remembered much of the clash, considering before it happened, you were cursed to fall asleep, the "Sleeping Beauty" curse as they called it, and while you weren't sure if you were actually kissed, nobody would talk about it, just that you were cured from it.

You even tried to get Yuri to tell you how you got cured, yet for someone who brags, he quite literally shut up about it. ". . . y/n?" Jiro asked as you snapped out of your thoughts. You hadn't realized how close the taller male was to your face until now, trying not to react much, before letting out a laugh. "Ah, sorry about that. Just some thinking," you mused, looking up at him. "Mind repeating where at again?" You asked as the taller male looked at you, before shrugging, "Back at the dormitory," he said, as you let out a "huh".

As the two of you were walking, Jiro looked at you, though you didn't pay attention much to it. While he wasn't as curious, he did recall Yuri wanting him to ask you your reasons as to why you switched to Mortkranken specifically. Granted, you were as great when it came to researching as your strength, which sometimes Yuri would ask you to help Jiro out; though that was for whenever there was an anomaly that needed to be captured. It was quite simple. Whenever there was a strong anomaly, you would infect it with poison through your katana, while Jiro would use his chainsaw.

Before you knew it, the two of you arrived at the dormitory, as you entered inside first. Looking around, you felt confused, noticing that Yuri wasn't there. "Is Yuri perhaps downstairs?" You asked as you turned around to look at Jiro. The taller man shrugged, before speaking. "No, he's still in class," he said blatantly, your eyes confused, though you still decided to politely smile at him. "So you lied to me…huh, I would've never expected that from you," you said, as you took a seat. You had to admit, that while you didn't know Jiro fully well, you were comfortable with him. Probably a bit more compared to Yuri, though you understood that Yuri had good intentions, even if he were well…prideful and arrogant.

Probably a bit more compared to Yuri, though you understood that Yuri had good intentions, even if he were well…prideful and arrogant. You watched Jiro as he looked at you, before nodding. "Yes," he said, as the corner of your smile twitched. How annoying. "What made you decide to do that?" Your question made him glance at you temporarily, as he grabbed a few tools. "Simple, I'm doing a health inspection. Yuri said it's been long overdue," he said, as you frowned, before sighing, as you decided not to fight over it.

You watched Jiro as he looked at you, before nodding. "Yes," he said, as the corner of your smile twitched. How annoying. "What made you decide to do that?" Your question made him glance at you temporarily, as he grabbed a few tools. "Simple, I'm doing a health inspection. Yuri said it's been long overdue," he said, as you frowned, before sighing, as you decided not to fight over it. "Ha ha ha ha! You're acting like a cat now," he laughed, as your eye slightly twitched. A cat? The thought of you being compared to a cat made you feel a bit more irritated, still trying to keep ahold of your emotions. "I'm not so sure about that," you let out a laugh, trying not to look affected. Jiro didn't say much, though he simply smiled, before stopping for a moment. "Ah, that reminds me. Could you change real quick?" He asked as you were close to snapping. Instead, you gave him a smile, agreeing, before waiting until he turned around before you turned around as well, changing out of your uniform.

While you were preoccupied with changing, Jiro wasn't the type to really peak. And yet, he was curious as to your body. Well, he supposed that thought would occur since he was the one that woke you up from the curse. Slowly, he glanced, admiring your body. It was rather smooth compared to his, though to be fair, you seemed like the type to take care of yourself. And yet, you seemed a bit more frail than when he first met you. Your personality truly did have changed from the past two years the more that he thought of it.

Noticing you were almost done changing, he looked away, curious as to why out of all houses to transfer to, why Mortkranken? "Alright, let's get this over with," you said, as you watched him take out a few tools. He took out a stethoscope, checking your heart rate. "Heart rate, 80 bpm," he noted, before grabbing a pressure gauge. He placed it inside your arm, checking it. "Blood pressure, 89/59," he said to himself, noting that as well. Before you knew it, he did a few things, before finishing, as he placed the tools away.

"Have you been consuming Foxglove?" For once since being in Mortkranken, a shocked gaze appeared in your eyes, gazing in his red eyes. You were confused at first before it finally connected. "Is this why you wanted to do a health check on me?" You asked, dropping your smile. You had to admit, you hadn't expected for Jiro to figure it out. Though then again, his knowledge was in some ways greater than yours; which didn't surprise you as much. "So you did," he stared at you, before frowning. "There isn't any reason for you to. Seems like at least you took small pieces, but it's affecting your health," he said, as the corner of your lips turned down.

"That's none of your fucking business," you said, before hearing Jiro beginning to laugh. The fact that he laughed was both confusing, infuriating, and yet beautiful, actually, you were going to stop yourself from there. "I missed that bluntness," Jiro said, managing to calm himself, as he smiled at you. Before you knew it, you could feel your face turn red, scoffing. "Shut up! You're being awfully weird now," you turned your face away from him. You didn't like how you could feel your heart beating fast, as you could feel cold hands on your face, before gently looking back now at Jiro.

While you wouldn't admit it, if you were asked who out of all the students at Darkwick was pretty, Jiro would honestly be the only one you would think of. "Y/n, I may not know why you're deciding to poison yourself. But, whatever problems you're facing, please, don't. In fact, lay all your love on me," he said, as you could feel his face closer to yours. ". . . May I kiss you?" He asked, before being toppled down on the ground, as you kissed him. You let go for a moment, looking at him. "I'll be Frankenstein's girlfriend," you said before the two of you kissed. Unfortunately, neither of you heard Yuri's steps. "The two of you! Go kiss somewhere else!" He screamed, a bit horrified, as the two of you stopped to look at him, before laughing, leaving the captain more frustrated, as the two of you eventually went to your room. Unfortunately, both of you had to go back for Jiro's medication.

#tokyo debunker #tokyo debunker x reader #jiro kirisaki #jiro kirisaki x reader #jiro x reader #yuri isami

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smosh-fessions · 3 months ago

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My dash is covered in missing Anthony and I get that and also miss him but I think his break up (yes it might take years and not just one) really hindered his self-esteem and it shows in videos (yes it's not the true-true them but they are "enunciating" a lot of their already established esteem on camera and how they act with other people). Anthony is sensitive but he also cares what people think (and probably from the fact we all feel like someone is staring at us when we feel inadequate and affected by a heartbreak) and this is OKAY! but I don't think Anthony should be performing or only posting his face next to haha laughs in videos if he needs to find himself. If you are hurt maybe being haha comedian man is bandaging the sirens going off. I think a lot of fans are grumpy at him for saying yes to Smosh lifestyle and then going rogue MIA. However, I actually think he still has the aura of being in his late 20s. (Or just overall, is trying to heal faster than what may "look bad" when one says "its been a year and I'm embarrassed if I'm not there yet" when there is no deadline to grief and healing is consistent in our lives) reconnecting with your soulmate comedian friend who is opposite in processing and expressing to fill your EVERY need and going for a whole year without a relationship that was serious long-term-- your needs, identity, and self-esteem compass are probably skewed and under charged. It takes serious resources and time and reflection to be healed from relationships (yes, even small grudges towards ians or whomever he is emotionally on to rebound) and it takes just as much to maintain them. I don't think him coming back was a mistake or buying smosh or anything like that. Thats not what I'm lowkey "passive" about by any means. I'm saying that people throwing tomatoes at the idea of Anthony not on screen isn't the nuance take of a real human being literally going through it. It's like their fans have never been in a devastating heartbreak or in the failed expectations of oneself and you constantly keep injecting it in your healing so grudges to meandered communication, still thrive. Basically, Anthony in my eyes does not NEED to be in videos if how he posts himself online shows a lot of recoiling back- and how even in his 40's admits communicating this year with ian was a turning point to his life. I don't think someone like that can bounce around comedians at the heel--but that's also not an excuse with anything in the case if he patterns to the people who, inside his life, do need him to be there in any case.

#smosh #smoshblr #smosh confessions #smosh confession #Anthony padilla #commentary →#I agree that I think his relationship ending likely ties into how he's felt

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storiesbyjes2g · 2 months ago

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3.242 Woohoo on the beach pt. 3 of 4

They eyed me curiously, so I continued.

"You're at an age now where it seems like everywhere you look, there's a pretty girl."

They grinned, Arvin wiggling his eyebrows like he had a few specific girls in mind. Lex just smiled and looked down, brushing sand off his shorts. I took an extra deep breath as I waded into unknown territory.

"In school you learn the science of woohoo, how girls get pregnant, and all that. But they don't tell you about the emotions... The pressures... Feeling lost—unsure..."

Arvin sat up straighter, but Lex kept his eyes on the sand. He had that look kids give when they're listening but pretending not to. I took another breath, hoping to channel my dad's spirit of eloquence and comfort. If I sounded more comfortable than I was, maybe we'd get through it.

"Your body's gonna start talking to you—if it hasn't already. You might feel weird about it, maybe even ashamed. It's normal. There's nothing wrong with you."

I paused, checking to see if they were still with me. Arvin leaned in as if to take mental notes, but Lex still focused on the sand. I started to lose my nerve, but I couldn't quit now.

Come on, Luc, I said to myself. Don't overthink it. Just give them the talk you wish you would have gotten.

"Woohoo is one of the greatest experiences you'll ever have. Its effect on us is powerful. Some sims will lie and cheat and change themselves to have it. When you mishandle something that powerful, people get hurt."

I paused again to let that land.

"One of the best things you can do to guard your heart is to be honest. Not just with whomever you're interested in, but with yourself, too. Peer pressure is so strong. Sometimes you might think you want something because everyone else does, or because you're afraid to say no. But lying to yourself? That's one of the worst things we can do."

Arvin nodded. Lex finally looked up with a flicker of something in his eyes.

"The world tries to tell men what we should be like. Be tough, don't cry, always have a plan, smash as many girls as you can and brag about it... But real men aren't afraid to challenge that. Real men admit when something doesn't feel right or if they're not ready. That's not a sign of weakness. That’s wisdom."

I let that sit while I considered what to say next. A breeze kicked up, brushing through the palm trees as if to let the silence breathe. Lex wrapped his arms around his knees.

"Let's talk about respect. It's not just about being nice, letting girls go first, and all that. Real respect is, when a girl says no, you accept her answer without asking why. Respect is not expecting anything just because someone paid attention to you. No one owes you their body. And you don’t owe anyone yours."

I watched the wild chickens behind Lex, running around and pecking at invisible specks between the stones before Arvin's odd comment brought me back.

"Even a wild stallion needs a locker combination," he said with his chest out.

What the... I shook it off because I needed to stay focused. I had so much more to say and couldn't lose my momentum or nerve.

"You're gonna mess up, and that's okay," I continued. "You'll say the wrong thing. Maybe even hurt someone, or get hurt yourself. I'm not saying that because I don't believe in you—that's just sim nature. What matters is how you handle it. Learn from it, and try not to repeat your mistakes."

"Have you ever hurt anyone?" Lex asked.

I let out a huge sigh. Despite what I just said about sim nature, my mistake still bothered me.

"Yeah … I have. I was with someone when I should have been with someone else. I wasn't clear and hurt both of them."

He didn't ask for details. Just nodded. I still felt the need to add a little context, though.

"I don't recommend dating multiple girls at once. But when you get older, you might find casual dating more your style, especially if you're not ready to settle down. Or maybe you'll have friends you woohoo with. There're all kinds of relationships out there. I don't agree with them all, but it's your choice. But whatever type of relationship you choose to have, make sure everyone involved understands your intentions and their place in your life."

#ISBI challenge #sims 4 story #sims 4 gameplay #adolting #adolting gen 3 #luca winston murillo #lex murillo #arvin murillo

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thefixations-ofmine · 6 months ago

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snippet: new year, new me

a/n: I suck at titles, please be nice. This is a snippet for something I'm working on for the bucktommy winter fest, and it's inspired by this exchange here. I currently have 1,8k on it, but I'll be adding/editing more tomorrow and before posting on Saturday. I'm not sure if I'll take this one to the nsfw part or if I'm rather going to use next week's prompt for that. I'll see where this takes me!

“There’s still time to turn around, man.” Eddie offers, and Buck shakes his head. He’s gotta do this. For himself. And for Tommy, perhaps.

“I’m okay, yeah. I’m okay.” Buck rubs his hands onto his jeans - the tight blue ones he remembers were Tommy’s favourites. The same jeans he wore on the night- Buck shakes his head.

Yeah, he really needs to talk to Tommy.

The house looks a little different, and in his current state, Buck can’t really tell why. The grass is a little longer than usual, but that’s not it. Tommy was never really a fancy landscaping guy so the hedge and small bushes are the same. New roof? Nope.

Then Buck’s eyes fall onto the bright red, 2019 Charger parked in the driveway and his brows bend with curiosity. Did Tommy have that bad of a crisis that he made an impulsive (and expensive) decision?

Ha! Buck silently laughs to himself. Ironic.

Then his heart tightens at the thought of Tommy going out and changing plenty of things about himself that he might have been holding back because of their relationship.

Eddie catches the change in energy and tries to comfort his friend; “I remember he told me he was thinking of getting a more recent sports car because working on classics was becoming expensive.”

“But he loved his truck. I loved his truck…” Buck whispers, reminiscing over their short trips and the laughs they shared eating take-out and watching planes take off at Burbank.

After a deep breath to control himself, Buck nods and thanks Eddie for driving him over, that he’d catch an Uber back to his place if Eddie got called while on his stand-by shift.

He jumps out of the truck and wills himself to walk to the door.

It’s eleven forty-five.

There’s a few seconds too many after his first knock and Buck goes for another. The door swings open as if the person was waiting behind it for whomever it was to dare knock again.

The comforting smell of the house drafts out, bringing up a wave of emotions.

“Can I help you?” There’s a tall, broad man on the other side of the threshold, but it’s not Tommy. The features are similar though; blue eyes, dark hair, muscles all over and a nose that would crunch up on his cheek during a kiss like Tommy’s and-

“Who is it, Sal?” Buck hears Tommy shout from inside. Sal. What a stupid name.

“Some random mook.” Sal turns around to tell. Then his piercing gaze falls back onto Buck; “You’re bumming out our party. The fuck you want?”

“Um, well-” There’s a moment of disbelief that makes him forget everything he needed to say. Tommy’s already got a date. Buck was sure he’d be alone moping, or at least working an extra shift, but he’s already found another man to spend his spare time with. Tommy was better at going out to explore than he was apparently.

Fuck off. Not on his watch.

You can find my masterlist here. Let me know if you wish to be tagged in this and/or future works!

#bucktommy #ronnie writes #evan buckley #tommy kinard #911 fanfic #bucktommy fanfic

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xxladymjxx · 2 years ago

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Here's a request for you, my dear! Reader writes for the school paper and is assigned an article highlighting different school clubs. She tries to interview Eddie about Hellfire, but he just assumes she's going to mock/tease him about being a "freak who likes to play fantasy games" and is really short with her. It hurts her feelings, and when someone (Dustin? Lucas? Mike?) points out what an asshole he was, he tries to make it right.

I can't wait to read it!

xoxoxo @munson-blurbs 💚

Thank you bug! @munson-blurbs

Warnings ⚠️: Angst, language, and fluff by the end

Minors D.N.I 18+

Wc: 2.9k

°♡°

"Gotta go, I'm hungry, see you later!" Dustin departs but not before hugging you which you returned.

Trekking in the bustling hallway of your school, your peers making their way to their next classes. Upon entering the paper editing room you're met with Nancy, who had just turned to face whomever walked in, "Good morning!" she greeted you sporting a familiar grin.

"Another article set up for me? Geez, have you ever taken a break?" you joked with her, you had worked with Nancy for some time, and known her even longer, you used to help babysit her brother and his friends when they were younger. Mike, Lucas, Dustin, and Will who had moved to California liked you and thought you were kind and warm.

Walking toward Nancy she answers, "A writer's job is never done, and yes, I have one in mind."

"What club is this? Between you and I, we've already interviewed all of them," you were confused, was there a new club you weren't familiar with?

"Hellfire," she shrugs, "I know I haven't interviewed the head honcho, Eddie Munson. Have you?"

"No, I haven't.." you shook your head and your voice got quiet, you'd forgotten about Hellfire. You don't know how you did, Eddie is infamous in Hawkins High. His wild antics in class, the cafeteria, and even the library were well known. You weren't going to lie to yourself, his personality had intimidated you.

He wasn't unkind to you, you both had exchanged polite smiles several times passing each other in the hallway on another monotonous day of school, "W-what time do I head over?" you ask Nancy, your voice apprehensive.

Giving you a sympathetic smile she responds, "Relax, it'll be fine, you got this!" Nancy encourages you, the energy radiating off her physique, "Find Mike, Dustin, or Lucas, and they'll tell you. According to rumors, take this with a grain of salt, they're a Satanic Cult." she rolled her eyes, "The shit people come up with is ridiculous, Mike is in Hellfire, it's just a Dungeons and Dragons club."

You agreed wholeheartedly, "Leave it to a bored small town to come up with something like that when it's just a game," familiar with D&D during your time babysitting Mike the game fascinated you, "so do you have some sort of plan? What do you want me to ask?" Attempting to divert your rising anxiety you focus your brain on the task at hand.

"Ask how he formed Hellfire, what gave him the idea, what makes it different from the other clubs. Come on, you've done this before, what's got you so anxious?"

Sighing in defeat, your gaze falls to the floor beneath your feet, "That obvious, huh?"

"It's not like you hide it well," she remarks with a smirk, your shoulders slump.

"I'm hopeless," you lament with a hint of playfulness.

"You're fine the way you are," she reassures you kindly.

Gathering your notebook and pencil you give Nancy a reluctant grin, "I got this,"

Nancy lights up at your words, "Great!" she pats your forearm, "Everyone's headed to lunch, you might catch Mike or someone from Hellfire on the way. Good luck!"

"Thanks, Nance," just like that she takes off, Fred Benson following suit.

Soon after you're out the door. Scanning carefully among the crowds of students you spot a familiar figure wearing a "Thinking cap" ball cap on his head. Zig-zagging your way through the crowd, your hand makes contact with the figure's shoulder, "Dustin!" you beam.

"Hey!" he turns to face you and gives you a big hug, "How have you been?"

"Oh, you know, getting through school," you shrug, "writing for the Hawkins paper," both of you move out of the way of the other students.

"How's that going?" Dustin asks, his grin not leaving his face.

"I need to interview Eddie for Hellfire, frankly I'm a little nervous,"

"That's great! We're gonna be famous!" he exclaims joyfully.

"I wouldn't go that far." you can't help but laugh at his vitality, scratching the back of your neck sheepishly, "What time do you start Hellfire?"

"After school. We usually try to wrap things up by 8:30 depending on what we're doing,"

"I-is Eddie nice?" your insecurities are rising and it's evident in your voice.

"Eddie is the best!" Dustin's grin gets wider, "He took Mike and me in when we were trying to find our place in Hawkins High! He's a great storyteller and world-builder! He even creates voices for the characters!" Dustin's admiration for Eddie seems to increase with every word that leaves his mouth, his eyes shining with respect, "The interview will go great!" Dustin's voice is the epitome of confidence.

Leaning against the wall a breath you didn't know you were holding in deflates out of your lungs like a balloon, taking your anxiety and insecurities out with it, "Thanks, Dusty, I needed that," you say with a smile, gratitude sparkling in your eyes.

"Anything for my favorite babysitter!" he playfully boops your nose.

You giggle, "You think it would be best if I wait until after Hellfire is over before I talk to him?"

"He'll be in a good mood. Post-campaign euphoria, y'know?"

Thinking back to the times the boys had finished a campaign, the victorious cries were heard from Nancys' basement, their energy infectious and journeying throughout the home, "I remember," you grin.

°♡°

The drama class door swung open, and congratulatory cheers can be heard from the confines. Mike is the first to emerge, sporting a grin that seemed to split his countenance. His dark eyes meet yours, "We won!" he addresses you with exuberance walking over to you.

"Congratulations!" The post-campaign euphoria affects you similarly; goosebumps erupt up your arms.

"I heard from Dustin, you gonna interview Eddie? Also how long were you waiting out here?" he asks, concern etched in his voice.

"Yes, and about ten minutes, not long at all, gave me time to calm my nerves,"

Mike seemed to relax slightly at your admission, "You're nervous?"

"Just a little, I'll deal," you shrug.

Dustin, Jeff, Gareth, Erica, and Gary exit the drama room. Dustin strolls over to Mike and you, "Did Mike tell you we gained a victory?"

"Eddies ready for you, head on in,"

"He informed me of your success, congratulations!" both of you high-fived, and you gave Mike one as well, not wanting to leave him out.

Dustin said.

Inhaling and exhaling a breath you say, "I'm ready,"

"We'll wait for you out here, right Mike?" Dustin faces his friend.

"Thanks, kids, you're awesome!" giving them a wink you head inside the drama classroom where the leader of Hellfire awaited you.

"Huh? Oh! Right, sure," Mike agrees.

°⁠♡°

Peering inside you see the infamous Eddie Munson, seated on his throne with an intense glare set on you.

Clearing your throat and wiping your hands on your high-waisted pencil skirt, "H-hello, how do you do," you introduce yourself in a voice that resembles a mouse.

"Eddie Munson." he snaps, his voice low and guarded.

"I'm here to interview you for the Hawkins High paper," informing him of your intentions you try your best to make your voice even and professional. Sitting down in the chair closest to him, you open your notepad and remove your pencil from your ear. Getting right down to business you ask him your first question, "What made you start Hellfire?"

"Wanted more people to play D&D with. Next question."

His short and malicious tone hit you right in the heart, the pain feeling like ice. Your breathing becomes unsteady as you write down Eddie's answer, "I-I see."

Feeling a lump form in your throat, you ask your next question, "How has," swallowing the lump in your throat, "Forming this club improved your academic performance?"

He let out a laugh that resembled a feral beast, "School sucks, it always has. Next question." More icy pain shoots up your body, stabbing your heart, and now your voice trembles writing down his answer once again,

"R-right?" letting out a weak chuckle, you agree with him.

You have one question left! You can do this!

Mentally cheering yourself on, you press forward.

"Among–"

"Cut the bullshit already." Once more he interrupts you, he seems to be in a rush to get to the bottom of the matter, the only issue is you have no idea what his problem is.

"W-what?" you stutter, blinking back tears forming, his harsh tone is like a viper biting into your flesh; the sting unrelenting.

"You're only here to make fun of the 'freak' the 'satan worshiper' AND the 'cult leader'!" he stood abruptly slamming his hand on the table, you flinch.

"I would never–"

You could only stand there frozen, stunned as his verbal assault resumed, "Well it's not going to work this time!

"I don't believe you! You're just like everyone else; judging without bothering to get to know them!" The snake's venom is seeping into your bloodstream along with the icy chill of his words. Frankly, you were taken aback, you'd no idea he thought this way about you, and you had no idea why this was hurting you so vastly.

His next words were the nail in the proverbial coffin, "You're nothing." he seethed, speaking through clenched teeth.

The venom swallowed you whole as the ice caught in your throat. Tears cascade down past your waterline like a faucet. Dropping your notepad and pencil absentmindedly you cast one last gaze into his face. His eyes were cold with malice and contempt. Making a quick turn you sprint toward the door, each step on the linoleum floor causes more ice to stab your heart.

He had called you "nothing", and you felt like it. Bringing your knees to your chest in an attempt to comfort yourself you bury your head in between your knees but it brings no solace to the void that was starting to consume you.

The door opened with a bang startling Dustin and Mike, "That was fa– Hey what happened?" Dustin noticed your tear-stained face but couldn't say anything further, you were already running down the hall with sobs escaping unbidden from your lips. With your vision fuzzy from the tears you can barely make out the sign for the girl's bathroom. Bursting inside you lean against the door sinking to the floor you weep.

°♡°

Eddie remained in the drama room, cleaning up the rest of the D&D pieces, a proud grin formed on his face, "Showed her," he murmurs.

"Eddie, what the hell happened?" Dustin makes an appearance, followed closely by Mike.

Eddie scoffs, facing the boys, "I protected us is what I did."

"How?" Mike asks, incredulously, not being able to comprehend what their Dungeon Master was saying.

"She is going to use that article to spread the rumors that Hellfire is a Satan-worshiping cult!" he asserts, picking up your notepad from the floor and tossing it onto the table, "Henderson, dispose of that."

Dustin picks up your notepad and peers at your notes or lack thereof he sees your teardrops on the paper, "No," he says firmly.

Eddie looks at Dustin, surprised that he refused his request, "And why not?"

"Because she's NOT like that!" Mike pipes up, the first to defend your honor.

Dustin nods at his best friend, "Mike's right, she'd never do something like that."

"What are you two, her knights in shining armor?" Eddie spat, he couldn't believe both of his friends weren't backing him up on this. He was one hundred percent certain you'd come to bully him, he wasn't going to take any chances, it was his job to protect his flock.

"Eddie," Dustin pinched the bridge of his nose, "what did you say to her?"

Eddie shrugged, "I told her she was nothing,"

"You mother–"

"Mike!" Dustin stopped Mike from saying something he'll most likely regret, "Eddie," he let out an exasperated sigh "She's one of the kindest people we've ever met. She babysat us when we were younger," Dustin explains, his tone serious. He's determined to let Eddie know he screwed up, "She genuinely cares about us and Dungeons and Dragons,"

Eddie slumped down on his throne, "So what you're saying is," he paused, there had to have been some merit to what they were saying if both Mike and Dustin were coming to your aid, "I screwed up?" he finishes, the realization sinking into him like a large stone into a lake.

"YES!" Dustin and Mike say in unison, the former slamming your notepad in front of Eddie's side of the table.

Your tearful expression flashed unbidden in Eddie's mind's eye; the sinking realization had finally hit him in full force. Placing his face in his hands he says, "Dammit!" his voice muffled, how could he have gotten something so wrong? Guilty bubbled in his gut, along with the fear that you won't forgive him, "I have to apologize! Right now!" he stands up in a panic grabbing your notepad, and frantically paces the room, "Where is she?" he demands the boys.

Eddie sprinted out the door in a desperate search for you.

"We don't know!" Will speaks up, "I can only guess she ran to the girl's bathroom."

°⁠♡°

Sitting on the cold, semi-dirty floor your wailing had subsided to short sobs and hiccups. How could he think so lowly of someone he had barely spoken to? You'd never imagined he'd be so cruel, callous, and so certain that you'd have malicious intent with your interview. You had a genuine interest in Dungeons & Dragons, and while you most likely wouldn't be good at it the game itself fascinated you.

Standing up on wobbly feet you stroll to one of the sinks and peer at your face. Your eyes are puffy and swollen with tear tracks down your cheeks, "Dammit," muttering to yourself, you half-heartedly wash your face the best you can. Sighing as droplets of water fall from your complexion, "What am I going to tell Nancy?"

Drying your face on the sandpaper-like paper towels you're startled by the bathroom door opening, instinctually your eyes fly to the door, surprised by the mop of frenzied curls that enter your field of vision. His remorseful, ashamed, and guilt-ridden face froze you on the spot.

"What are you–?"

"I'm so sorry!" he says between pants, as though he ran a marathon to find you, "I was wrong!"

Your face morphed into one of confusion, "Wrong about what?"

"I was wrong for assuming you'd bully me. I was wrong for not giving you a fair chance. I was wrong for being so cold to you. I was wrong about everything," he took several steps toward you until he was in front of you, "I'm sorry for making you cry…that is what I'm most ashamed of," his voice breaks, that's how you know his apology is sincere.

His words are like a panacea on your body; the frozen venom disperses. Peering into his eyes you say words he hoped to hear, "I accept your apology, Eddie Munson."

"Thank. You. Christ!" his shoulders slump in relaxation, "Oh!" he hands you your notepad, "Here, I'm sorry again,"

Gazing at the item in Eddie's hands you smile, "Thank you! And I'll accept that second apology on one condition."

"Name it and it's done."

"Can we leave? This is the girl's bathroom."

"Oh, shit!" he'd forgotten where he was, peering around he comments, "So much cleaner than the boys,"

"Okay, out!" you laugh, pushing him gently toward the door. Once you both were outside you say playfully, "You're forgiven, again,"

Eddie chuckles, "Thanks,"

"So," you hesitate, "are we friends now?" unsure of where you stand, you ask for clarification.

"Hell yeah, we're friends!" he says with conviction and no uncertainty.

"Good! That's good!" you grin.

"I want you to interview me properly this time. But before that, what was your last question?"

"My last question?"

"The one you were going to ask me before I blew up at you."

Your eyes widened in realization, "Oh that one!"

You clear your throat, "Among the people in Hellfire, who do you admire and why?"

Eddie looked taken aback; his mind drew a blank. Did he admire someone in Hellfire? He was admired, yes but did he ever feel that way for someone else? "Uh," he pauses, not knowing what to say.

"It's okay, we can answer the previous questions. The next paper doesn't come out until next week, I just like getting my work done early," Sensing his difficulty answering your question, you decide to ease his mind and give him time to think it over.

"Thank you, I'll answer your other questions at Benny's, I owe you a milkshake, my treat. I hope you don't mind a small detour I need to drive Henderson and Wheeler home," he starts to head back in the direction of the drama club, a spring in his step and humming a tune you didn't recognize.

"They are pretty cool." he agrees.

"Of course, I don't mind. Those kiddos are the best!" walking next to him, you praise the boys.

°⁠♡°

Once again you stroll the busy school hallways the next day, and you hear your name called.

"Hey!" Eddie approached with his hands behind his back.

"Hi, morning!" you greet him with a grin.

"I have the answer to your question."

"Oh? That's great! Do I need my notepad for this?" you ask, slinging your backpack off your shoulder.

"No, no this will be quick. It's you," he declares with a smile, his eyes shining with sincerity.

Your jaw drops, and your mind reels. You hadn't expected this, "What? Me?" you point to yourself.

"Yes, you, my new friend," he gazes at you fondly.

"I'm not a part of Hellfire,"

"Welcome to Hellfire."

"Not yet you're not," his arms move from behind his back, and he unveils the infamous shirt he and the rest of the club sport.

°⁠♡°

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