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ceoofyearning · 1 day

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I only pray, don’t fall away from me

Pairing: Azriel x Reader

Summary: The world feels like it’s falling apart around you, but Azriel finally comes home and helps you hold all the pieces together.

Tags/Warnings: Hurt and Comfort, depressive themes & thoughts, anxiety, nightmares, mentions of a minor character death (not the mc/reader) || please mind the tags.

Word Count: 3.5k

A/N: this week was though so here’s a bit of a hurt & comfort fic; hope your days are kind to you guys xoxo

Links: Fic Masterlist | My Art

You’re so damn tired.

The last few weeks have been difficult, to say the least. The healing house has been filled to the brim with the wounded and sick. Altercations with Beron’s soldiers by the border have been increasing at an alarming rate, while countless spies from the continent have been winnowed in after being caught by Koschei’s contingent forces. You can’t even begin to imagine the state of the civilians that might’ve been caught in the crossfire.

There is tension in the air with the threat of the inevitable war looming on the horizon. It doesn’t help that the winter chill, in all of its foreboding fury, has come to ravage the lands and its people. You love your work as a healer, you really do. Some days, the thought of the good you do, the people you help, is enough to keep you going. But too often, it feels like a thankless job that leaves you drained to the core.

In your free time, you’ve been parsing through ancient texts in search of information on Death Gods and anything that could be used against Koschei. His looming threat is a cloud of dread that hangs over everyone, especially Rhys. The least you could do is to help carry the burden. It’s not like you could sleep, anyway. These days it is as though your mind adamantly refuses to let you rest. At the very least, the task keeps you distracted when you’re stuck alone in your apartment.

Ever since Azriel had been sent to the continent for a reconnaissance mission nearly a month ago, the apartment you share has started to feel a little too big, too desolate. Before you knew it, the white walls had been transmuted from your home into what felt like the bars of a cage.

The two of you haven't been apart for so long since the mating bond snapped. You didn’t think you'd feel his absence as acutely as you did, but it felt like the loss of a limb where the wound refused to heal and you were already bleeding out. His part of the bond is blacked out completely, a devouring void where Azriel’s comforting presence should have been. It’s for your own safety, he said. But you can’t help it. You’re plagued with worry, with imagined hurts and tragedies, amplifying the brewing conflict in your mind.

It is easier to catch yourself when Azriel is near. When the thoughts begin to swirl like a hurricane around you - winds whipping, oceans rising - it feels like Azriel’s arms are the only safe harbor you can rely on. But Azriel isn’t here now.

What frustrates you most is that you’ve been better recently. You’ve been good. You ate your meals, slept reasonably, even had a goddamned routine set up. You guzzled down your tonics in hopes of smoothing out the edges of your frayed mind, that perhaps it could lend you some semblance of normalcy. But no. Weeks of being haunted by nightmares, of overextending yourself, of loss and suffering seeping under your skin day by day have taken its toll.

You are just too damn tired.

A child died, barely over thirteen years old. She was bastard-born, which meant she had nothing to her name other than the rags on her back and her birthright to suffer generational oppression and cruelty. This is the worst winter the Night Court has had in centuries, and she didn’t even have a decent roof over her head. Needless to say, she hadn’t been in the best health. But despite that, the moment her cycle had come, the men forced her to go through the clipping. In her struggle, the imbeciles accidentally nicked a vital artery. Normally, her Illyrian healing would’ve granted her a strong chance for survival, but she had been so sick, her body weakened by hours spent in the frigid cold.

By the time you had been summoned to heal her, she no longer had the strength to recover. Numbness washed over you at the image of her unseeing eyes, the same shade as Azriel’s in the right light, trained toward the vast empty sky. You have a feeling it isn’t a sight you’d forget any time soon.

You don’t know how long it’s been. The room is shrouded with a thick blanket of darkness, the only respite coming from the dwindling candlelight by your bedside. Only silence exists within these four walls, interrupted by the occasional patter of water leaking from the kitchen sink. You burrow deeper into the sheets, inhaling the trace of Azriel’s scent that still lingered like it would somehow quell this ache inside you.

Despite spending most of the day bedbound, you’ve barely had any sleep. There is no respite to be found in the dreaming, only nightmares lying in wait. It seems your mind has a knack of bringing your worst fears. Azriel bruised, bloodied and utterly alone, lost, somewhere in the vastness of the continent, hazel eyes - his, then hers, then his again - glazing over, crimson seeping into the arid ground below.

For the last few weeks, you’ve gathered your grief and worry like rocks to wear around your neck. Your body is heavy, the phantom weight sinking and settling within the marrow of your bones, refusing to leave. It feels like you could stay in this bed forever until you dissipate into nothing but sand, smoke and thought.

You managed to send out a request for the texts Rhys needed translated, but not much else. You’re thankful he directly portalled them on your worktable because you don’t think you could brave the journey to the library today. You don’t think you could do much of anything today, in all honesty.

So there you lay, bundled up in a collection of blankets, at least three inches of cotton and down that never seem enough to warm you. A book rests in your hands, yet your eyes remain unfocused, not truly seeing the words.

You run your thumb over the crisp paper, knowledge older than you, older than this city and yet you couldn't even bring yourself to focus long enough to dissect their true meaning. Your will is liquid in your hands, slipping through the cracks in between your fingers. Accidentally, you tug too hard on a page and it tears easily beneath your touch. If you had your wits about you, you would’ve been horrified by what you’ve just done. But as you are now, it is difficult to care.

That’s what you feel like at this moment, you realize. These past few weeks have left you feeling spent, worn out, paper thin. Absently, you stretch out your hand towards the candlelight, close enough to feel the warmth lick against your cool skin. The flame casts a brilliant silhouette around your shadowed hand. It’s a wonder why golden light doesn’t seep right through.

That’s how Azriel finds you.

The front door of your apartment creeks open, letting in a flood of muted morning light. Your first instinct is to retreat beneath the covers to shield yourself. Azriel calls your name in the silence, worry permeating each syllable. No doubt, he is cataloging the mess your shared space had become in your unintentional neglect.

You say nothing, wondering if you could just close your eyes and pretend to be asleep, anything to escape his scrutiny. A breath of relief escapes him when he finds you in bed. The mattress dips beneath his weight as he sits beside you.

The urge to curl tighter around yourself is strong. But he repeats your name and, as though he had cast a spell, you unspool before him, your muscles unwinding, one fiber at a time.

“Can I touch you?” He asks, voice painfully soft.

“Okay,” you croak out from beneath the blankets.

Azriel gradually draws the sheets away from your body, giving you ample time to protest if you’d like. Then, he rests his hand on your shoulder. Unbidden, a shiver runs down your spine, followed by a stuttered breath. You don’t realize how much you missed his touch until his textured hand begins its soothing path up and down your back, his heat sinking into your skin.

Shame washes over you despite the bone-deep comfort you find upon his gentle ministrations. You don’t want him to see you this way. Azriel deserves better, the voices in your head insist. He deserves a mate whose mind does not devour itself at every given opportunity, a mate who does not quake beneath the weight of the world and the idea of their own immortal existence.

As though detecting your train of thought, his shadows leave their preferred perch on his shoulders to pool around you instead. Tendrils of darkness brush away the tears on your face, while some thread through your hair like a gentle breeze.

On the other hand, Azriel urges you to rest your head on his lap. He begins to run his hand through your hair, uncaring of how greasy and tangled it has become. Eventually, his voice pierces the silence, injecting warmth into the distance between you. He hums a tune you do not recognize, but you can't help but cling to each winding note like a lifeline. Azriel has always had a beautiful voice - depthless, silken and soothing. It feels like a privilege to hear the song that he normally reserves for his shadows.

You must’ve been a pitiful sight to behold, and yet Azriel never looks at you like you are. He always treats you like something to cherish, something to love, like you’re someone he’s spent lifetimes desperately waiting for and you’ve been entirely worth the wait. A traitorous part of you feels like you’ll never deserve it, this love.

Azriel must sense the hurricane of emotions waging a one-sided war in your head, despite the mental shields you adamantly keep up. But he doesn’t tell you to stop, doesn’t brush off your worry with empty words and false promises. Instead, he simply says, “I love you.”

He speaks it as though it is a fact like one would say that the sky is blue, and the grass is green, and the world would keep on turning in peteruity, orbiting the sun the same way you’ll continue to orbit around each other. His chapped lips ghost over your temple, murmuring your name like a plea, a prayer.

“More than anything in this world,” he adds as he pulls you into his embrace.

Your body is pliant for him, arms winding around his neck like that is where they’re meant to be. His arms wrap around your waist to hold you impossibly closer. Webbed wings stretch to curl around the two of you, creating a cocoon of darkness that keeps the rest of the world at bay. With your head resting on his chest, you could hear his heartbeat thudding in chorus with yours.

“I love you too,” you reply after a long stretch of silence. “But sometimes I wish you could’ve had a better mate.”

“There is no one better,” Azriel insists. “There is only you, my love; through light, through darkness, through whichever end. Only you.” And you feel the truth of his words as surely as the twinned beating of your hearts. Sometimes it’s hard to convince your traitorous mind that you could have this, that someone could love you so deeply despite having seen you at your worst. Azriel presses another kiss against your cheek, and despite yourself, you begin to believe his words.

You don’t know how long Azriel holds you like that, but it finally feels like a stretch of eternity you could bear.

“What can I do to help, love?” Azriel prompts, cupping your face in the cradle of his scarred palms - their texture, a familiar comfort.

You turn over his question in your head for a few moments, savoring his scent, the sensation of his skin against your own. A part of you is tempted to ask him to lay beside you for the rest of the day, for a week, for an entire lifetime. You know Azriel would if you asked it of him. But beyond this room, the world continues its elliptical path around the sun and time still ticks on regardless of how disconnected you feel from your own reality.

“A bath,” is all you manage to say.

Azriel nods, before reluctantly peeling himself from you. “Have you eaten?”

“‘M not hungry,” you mumble as you sink back into the sheets, sighing as the comforter swallows you up. In truth, you can’t remember when your last meal had been. Hunger didn’t seem so pressing in the last few days.

“That’s not what I asked.” Azriel’s tone leaves no room for argument or negotiation.

“No,” you finally answer, although with much trepidation. “Not yet.”

He hums, clearly displeased, but says nothing else. You can already imagine the frown that must be stretching across his face. But it seems Azriel’s presence alone is enough to quieten your mind, at least for now. You must’ve been dead tired because it doesn’t take long for the rhythmic sound of Azriel's familiar footfalls to lull you into dreamless sleep.

"Love," Azriel whispers, his hand hovering over your shoulder, rousing you from your shallow slumber. You blink languidly until molten eyes come into focus. The candlelight flickers, and shadows dance across his face. Azriel’s normally sharp features are softened by the tenderness in his expression. You’ll never tire of waking to the sight of him.

With a groan, you half-roll half-stumble out of bed. Azriel stays an arm’s length away in case you need him, but he’s careful not to crowd you. His shadows have no such reservations, however. The dark tendrils fretfully twine around your arms, making you smile. You thank them quietly, and for a moment, they seem to dance with delight. Regardless of your initial unsteadiness, you manage to pad all the way to the bathroom.

Upon crossing the threshold, the sweet scent of jasmine immediately overtakes your senses. The tub has already been filled up, steam rising from the sun-covered surface. You begin to unbutton your tunic, clumsy fingers tumbling through your first few attempts. Azriel steadies your hands with his firm grip, his shadows gently circling your wrists.

“May I?” He asks, gesturing to your tunic, and you nod, not wanting to think anymore. His movements are precise, almost clinical, while he undoes the first five buttons, before bunching the garment in his hands and pulling it over your head entirely. Your skin breaks out in gooseflesh once exposed to the cold air. Azriel is careful to keep his gaze on your face, even as you step out of your undergarments.

Azriel only betrays his composure when he traces your cheekbone, like he can’t quite help himself. From this distance, you have to crane your neck to look up at him. For a moment, the two of you only stare at each other. The bond glows bright between you, the golden thread gleaming as though it hadn't spent the last few weeks completely stretched thin.

But then, Azriel withdraws, tilting his head to the steaming tub. Obediently, you step into the water’s warm embrace, the heat nearly stinging your skin. Logically, however, you know it’s only because you’ve allowed yourself to stay in the cold for too long.

A relieved sigh escapes you as you sink further into the tub. One of his shadows rushes to pillow your heavy head as it rests on the tub’s rim. You thank the sweet little thing, and swirls of black sway back and forth like a dog wagging its tail. Meanwhile, Azriel takes his place by the head of the tub, sitting back on his heels.

“I’d like to wash your hair,” he says and you're touched by the earnest quality his voice takes.

“Okay,” you breathe. You’ve never been good at denying Azriel anything, nor did you want to. The more the ice beneath your skin thaws, the more you find that you want him near.

Azriel begins by running his fingers through your hair, massaging your scalp as he pours warm water over your head. With a pop of a bottle, the floral scent of shampoo fills the air. He lathers the substance on your head, his touch tender even as his fingers work through the knots in the strands, untangling them with care.

After a while, he rinses off the suds and coats his hands with oil. He begins combing his fingers through your hair, starting from the ends and working his way up. The rhythmic motion of his fingers is calming as he draws circles against your scalp. You find yourself melting into the moment, feeling utterly content for the first time in what feels like a very long time.

Once done, Azriel grabs a small towel and asks, “Do you want help washing?”

You shake your head, wanting to do this for yourself, at least. Understanding flashes in his eyes, and he spares you a soft smile. With that, Azriel leaves the towel by the tub and politely excuses himself from the room. With the door left slightly ajar, you could still hear him move around the apartment followed by the lyrical clinking of silverware against ceramic.

It takes you a few minutes to gather the energy to lather yourself with soap, and a few more to finally rise from the bath. But once the grime is off your skin, you feel a bit of the weight wash off with it too. You feel a bit more like yourself.

After drying off, you tug on the silk robe Azriel has left for you, securing it loosely around your waist. Upon exiting, you spy him by the dining table, scooping a generous serving of soup into a bowl. The mouthwatering aroma of rich broth wafts through the room, and you realize just how hungry you are when your stomach growls in protest. You approach him from behind, making sure that each step is audible.

Azriel continues to set up the table, but you can tell he’s aware of your presence from the way his shoulders seem to relax. The sudden urge to have him close is palpable, an instinct so deeply ingrained into your being. So, gradually, you wrap your arms around his waist, burying your face on his back. You take a deep inhale, breathing him in - a lungful of moontime mist and cedarwood smoke.

“I’m glad you’re home,” you murmur against Azriel’s back, your voice muffled by his shirt.

“I’m glad to be home,” he whispers. His hands abandon their task in favor of twining his fingers with your own.

Azriel turns to face you and holds your face in his hands. Beneath the swathes of sunlight, his eyes are alight with golden flame, flecks of green scattered over his irises like an afterthought. There is nothing but love in his gaze, nothing but acceptance.

“Thank you,” you say, tilting your head so the words could kiss his lips, not quite touching but close. “For being here, for loving me, for choosing me, everyday.”

“I will always choose you,” he vows, before planting a kiss on your forehead.

“Today,” another peck on the tip of your nose; “Tomorrow,” one more on your cheek; “And all the days after,” he finishes with a chaste caress on your lips.

Then, he rests his forehead on yours, your bodies slotted against each other like a lock and its predestined key. In Azriel’s presence, you find it easier to breathe, easier to simply be. For the first time in a long time, your mind is clear and your heart beats in a calm, languid pace that matches his own.

“I’d like to kiss you,” you request, looking up at him from beneath your lashes. Azriel’s gaze is searching, scouring for any hint of anything short of absolute certainty. Perhaps you should tell him that in this world of constant change and chaos, he’s the only one you’re certain of.

Azriel must be satisfied with what he finds written across your features because he replies, “So kiss me then,” the ghost of a smirk playing across his lips.

You’re surprised to find that it’s easy to return the playful expression. Your rise to the tips of your toes while your fingers thread through his raven black hair. When your lips touch, it is as though the world breathes a sigh of relief. Reality realigns and everything outside the two of you and your shared breaths turns inconsequential. He moves against you with practiced ease, like the natural ebb and flow of the tide.

An eternity of this, you think, doesn’t seem so daunting after all.

AN: i’m not sure if that was too much but thank you for reading 💙 As always, i’d love to hear everyone’s thoughts

English isn’t my first language, so if you see any mistakes, please lmk thru dm! 💙

Also, I just wanted to yap about the Az fics im in the process of writing:

1. Vampire!Azriel x Reader (Working tittle: Ashes in my wake)

I just love the idea of cannibalism (or yk, blood drinking) as a metaphor for love in literature so here we are. ( @/annikin-im-panicin this is ur influence) This one is a bit of a dark fic (nothing too crazy tho, I think), so i’m not sure how it’ll be received. But the idea has been haunting me for yonks so I just had to write it.

2. Tattoo Artist!Azriel x Lucien’s Best Friend!Reader (Working tittle: Drink dry the river Lethe)

This one is a multichapter fic (maybe 4-7 chapters, we’ll see) so it might take me a while before I start posting, but i’ve mostly finished writing the first (very smutty) and second (very angsty) chapter. I ‘m not entirely sure what direction to bring this yet but maybe you guys can help me decide?

Unrelated to Az, but i’ve been brainworming a poly dark-ish innocent!reader x Feysand fic, and a slightly less dark and more sappy(?) poly warrior!reader x royal!nessian fic. I’m so excited to start these but my pile of wips is giving me the stink eye 😂

#my fic #azriel #azriel fic #azriel fanfic #queued because posting gives me sm anxiety #acotar fic #azriel fluff #acotar x reader #azriel acotar #acotar azriel #acotar fanfic #azriel x reader #azriel x you #azriel x female!reader #a court of thorns and roses #acotar x you #azriel angst #mind the warnings my loves

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instaspacenoodles · 3 days

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✧₊⊹𝐏𝐫𝐞-𝐑𝐞𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐩 𝐖𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐉𝐢𝐲𝐚𝐧

Have I recover from Jiyan brain rot? Nope. So here’s more of my fluffy headcanons in honor of raising him to lvl 70.

Jiyan has been career-oriented since childhood, all due his family’s background as medical professionals. He was the type to focus on studying and mastering his medical skills rather than dabble in schoolyard crushes. His family had high expectations for him after all and he didn’t want to disappoint them. If it meant turning down his peers’ invitation to gather herbs or burying his noses in thick books then he’ll do it.

Jiyan can be kinda oblivious to people having a crush on him because of his lack of experience. Romance was so far off his radar that he wouldn’t know if it hit him in the head. The thought doesn’t even cross his mind that someone actually likes likes him. Subtle flirting would definitely go over this man's head no matter how hard you tried to drop hints. Like you leaving him chocolate? It was just a friendly gesture. You complimenting him on his looks? Perfectly normal for people to express their opinions on appearances.

Jiyan would think that your weird behavior around him was just out of shyness, awkwardness or even fear. You’re so outgoing with everyone else, but you’re so quiet with him. He has no idea why you have such a drastic shift in personality. Was it because of his title and status of general? Is it because he’s serious the majority of the time? He understands that he looks a bit intimidating, but tries to be approachable to not make you uncomfortable. Man is just utterly clueless that his attractiveness is the reason you’re going crazy.

Jiyan is the embodiment of “you fell first, he fell harder.” It might take a little time and external forces, but once it clicks that you have a crush on him — let’s just say he’s sent into a whole dilemma. Man is rethinking every interaction you had with him. All the chocolate, the compliments, how flustered you get when he approaches you - how didn’t he see this before? His eyes have been open and now he can’t help but study every gesture you make. The way your smile makes his stomach swirl, the way your laugh was such a pleasant sound to listen to, and the way being close to you made him feel nervous. Ah, maybe he might like you too.

Jiyan was held back by two things though. His lack of experience in the romance department and his fear of getting too close to people. He already lost so many people that were close to him, so many people that he failed to protect when it mattered most. The doubts festered in his mind endlessly and haunted him everyday. What if you got hurt? What if he failed to be there to protect you? What would he do if he couldn’t save you? He can’t shake those thoughts, yet he knew that he would regret missing this chance more than anything else. He would just have to try his hardest to make sure that nothing harms a hair on your pretty little head.

Jiyan would definitely go into research mode to try to understand what’s the right way to romance you. He would want to sweep you off your feet in a sweet gesture that expresses his feelings. He would even ask his mother for advice on courting you because she knows best. Jiyan would definitely try the secret admirer route - it would be the perfect way to return the favor of all the gifts you gave him while also making his feelings clear. He’s thoughtful in his gifts and if he hears you want something specific, you’re damn sure it will appear the next day. Meanwhile, he would even try to subtly flirt back when you two were together even if the attempts are a bit clumsy or make him feel a little flustered.

Jiyan would do a cute reveal, inviting you to meet your “admirer” at the cliff overlooking the base. The stars were twinkling in the sky and the calm quiet of the night would make the perfect atmosphere. He would be awkward, but sincere when confessing his feelings for you. He awaited your response in baited breath and respond you did. Jiyan was honestly expecting a flustered yes or no from you — not the way your face brightened in happiness and your arms were suddenly around his neck. The way you readily agreed to his confession with that beautiful smile of yours, core memory right there! He blinks a couple times in surprise before smiling down at you with a light flush to his cheeks.

Bonus!! Later, you would definitely 100% tease him about his obliviousness for the past few months. The pain and agony of your flirting attempts meeting a cold, stone wall. Jiyan, in turn, would recount all the times you could barely function around him and relish in the way you sputter over your words.

#wuwa jiyan #wuthering waves #jiyan x reader #jiyan x y/n #jiyan x you #wuthering waves fluff #fluff #jiyan wuthering waves #wuthering waves fanfic #wuthering waves drabbles #wuwa headcanons #wuthering waves headcanons #wuthering waves jiyan

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lamentationsofalonelypotato · 21 hours

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You Call It Madness But I Call It Love

Chapter 18: First Impressions Are Often Correct

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 chapter eighteen of my "You Call It Madness But I Call It Love" series. (I'm so bad at summaries please forgive me!)

Word Count: 11.6K

Warnings: I'm going to rate this one 18+ just to be on the safe side. :) References to sex, Cursing, Angst, Mentions of Death, Blood, Gore, Possessive Soldier Boy, Protective Soldier Boy, Soft Soldier Boy, 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

A/N: I'm so sorry, I know this has been a long time coming. I work hard, but writer's block works harder tbh.

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It had to be herogasm. You think to yourself with an audible groan looking up at the mid-century house from your position in the tree-line while watching the couples on the back porch writhe against one another.

The three hour drive from your apartment to Vermont had been uneventful and quiet. Every once in a while Ben would whisper something to you and you would half answer, but only because your mind was somewhere else or rather on someone else.

It was on Rosemary. She had stopped trying to text you or call you, and the silence was worse. You had no idea what she was going to do or what she was thinking. It was a miracle that she hadn’t shown up to your apartment and kicked down the front door before you left. You knew she was angry about the whole situation. And the sooner you dealt with the twins the sooner you could go see her.

Of course you still had no idea how you were going to bring up the conversation with Ben and you knew that there was no way he would let you just leave with no explanation to go talk to her.

This is why I hate texting. I should have just gone to see her, I shouldn’t have told her that Ben was back in a text, if anything that's a three drink minimum. Hell, she's probably half way through a second bottle of wine by now. Something that you also had considered several times today. Guess sobriety is going out the window. Shocker.

Ben kept asking you what was wrong, sensing your discomfort on the drive and held your hand tightly between the two of you, but you only shook your head whenever he asked. He thought that you were having second thoughts of going after the twins, but that was the one thing you were sure of. They deserved to pay for what they did, all of your team did. Anger rises beneath your skin like a roaring crowd when you think of all the years Ben spent alone in Russia being tortured and experimented on. Years that you could have stopped if only you'd known, years that he could never get back, memories that wouldn't fade in the next decade or two, and memories that you hoped you could replace by making him feel loved, by holding him close, and allowing yourself to forget the memories that still plagued you when you thought about the past.

But you still didn't know how the hell you were going to tell him about Rosemary. Every moment it felt like the words were going to vomit out of your mouth, but you clamped your jaw shut. You didn’t want to talk about Rosemary in front of Butcher and Hughie, didn’t want to tell Ben like that. What you needed to say about Rosemary and Lou didn’t deserve to be shouted at him or said in haste, you wanted to sit Ben down and tell him, give him time to adjust to the idea. Because you had no idea how he was going to react to the news that he was a dad and a grandfather.

Would he pull away again? Would he run? Would he leave me? Those thoughts kept swirling around your mind like a mixtape. You were scared that by telling him about her would make him go cold like he did the moment you told him you loved him. You remembered the distant look that replaced his smile as soon as you had uttered those three little words.

Little but not simple. Three little words that launched ships and started a hundred wars. Three little words with the power to create and the power to destroy. Three words that Ben had said to you more times than you could count since he came back to you, and three words you wished you never stopped hearing him say, the three words you always wanted him to say to you.

If Ben pushed you away now, you knew that you wouldn't survive it this time, knew that there was no going back. Which made you more fearful about Rosemary's reaction to Ben coming back into your life.

You were afraid that Rosemary would give you an ultimatum and make you choose between her and Lou or Ben. You really hoped that it didn’t come to that. You had just gotten Ben back and you didn’t want to have to pick between him and your family.

Because Ben is family too. You knew that deep down in your bones, even after everything that happened, Ben was your family. He was the only person who knew you inside and out, the only man you’d ever loved and the only person who understood you. You couldn’t turn your back on him and you didn’t want to shut him out. Not when you loved him more than life itself.

Your frown deepens as you continue to watch the people on the back porch while your supe hearing picks up the moans and sounds of the couples inside and the subtle thump of music, new pop songs that you didn't understand and didn't try. You were up with the times, but it didn't mean you had to like what was happening or the new music being produced no matter how hard Rosemary tried to get you to listen to it.

You sigh again, trying to drown out the sounds by focusing on the wind moving through the trees and the birds flitting through the branches overhead, but it wasn’t working. The beautiful day was already ruined by the loud and messy sounds from the inside of the house.

“Always wanted to bring you to one of these Sweetheart.” Ben glances over at you with a cheeky grin, lowering the binoculars from his eyes, but then he notes your frown. “Then again-“ His hand comes around your waist to pull you into him. “That means I would have had to share you with someone else, and I’d much rather have you all to myself.”

You can feel his smirk against your ear, but it does little ease your anxiety about Rosemary and the looming conversation you were going to have with Ben when this was over.

Hughie had disappeared a few moments ago to scout out the inside and to find the twins, while Butcher was doing a walk of the perimeter, leaving you and Ben to wait for the all clear. A welcome break, because every few minutes Hughie would play with a Geiger counter and the high pitched creak-like squeak was giving you a headache. Not to mention annoying you. You'd only been able to have a few sips of your coffee this morning after Butcher and Hughie burst into you apartment, but at least your anxiety was picking up the slack.

Because of course it was.

The house in front of you looked innocent enough on the outside, big windows light wood, but now that you were here, you really didn’t want to go inside. Despite wanting to face the twins, you didn’t want to go inside and be reminded of the one reason why you stayed away from Herogasm.

At least today we aren’t attending it as much as crashing it.

“Why do you think I hated going to Herogasm?” You murmur, frown deepening at you continue to stare at the house. The memories of the past had an ugly way of crashing down on you and despite not wanting to make Ben feel guilty, keeping them to yourself made you feel worse. Plus you figured he knew when you were lying, because Ben was basically a human lie detector when it came to you.

Ben sighs, his warm breath washing over the side of your face as his arm tightens around your waist to secure you to him. “Sweetheart please look at me.” His voice is comforting, filled with emotion, but you still don't look at him.

“What?” You whisper, mind still a million miles away.

His fingertips come under your chin to turn your face to his. Ben’s green eyes lock with yours, soft and apologetic, familiar in the best way and weird given the fact that he was wearing his uniform. You’d never seen him look so sorry when he was dressed up as Soldier Boy.

“I would have killed any man who tried to touch you, especially after the night we shared together. When Vogelbaum danced with you I wanted to rip his arms off.” His eyes darken.

You remembered the way he watched Vogelbaum and you dance together at the premiere with the cameras flashing in your eyes, but then the image of Countess plastered to his hip arises. The way she ran her hands up his chest, the way he turned his gaze away from you to stare at her.

“Yes, but see I never killed any woman that touched you-“

Double standard much?

“Well-“

“Countess doesn’t count.” You snap.

Ben’s thumb strokes along your jaw, before his expression softens again. “I’m sorry.”

“You’ve apologized-“ You sigh, suddenly guilty. You hadn't meant to snap at him like that, you were on edge because of Rosemary, not because of what Ben did in the past. You were already starting to forgive him for what he did.

“Not for this.” He takes in a deep breath before he pulls you closer to him. “I’m sorry that I made you think I didn’t want you. Because I do. I don't want anyone else, haven't ever wanted anyone else like I want you. I was so stupid. I fucked those other women because I couldn’t handle how I felt about you and I didn’t think that you would ever want me even a fraction of how much I want you-“

“More.” You whisper before you can stop yourself, laying your hand against the front of his suit.

“That is impossible.” Ben smiles faintly.

You toy with the material, plucking it between your fingers. “It’s okay. I understand why you did it. But it was hard to watch you with them.” You try to fight the image of him and Countess again, that is quickly followed by the memories of the many women over the years you’d see Ben with in public and of course the memory of the first and only Herogasm you ever went to, the one you left early because you couldn’t bear to see Ben with anyone else. The same one that you swore you saw Ben watching you just as closely when Noir tried to reach out for you and you walked away.

It’s different now. You think to yourself. Ben said that he’s wanted me this whole time and I believe him. I don’t think he would lie about something like that, not to mention he’s been more open about what he’s feeling.

“I know.” Ben continues to stroke along your jaw. “But I promise it won’t happen ever again.”

“I believe you.” You lock your arms around the back of his neck to hold him closer to you, loving the way his body felt wrapped around you, like he was molded just for you.

“Good.” He leans his forehead against yours for a moment. "Can I kiss you yet?" Ben's words are quiet, barely above a whisper, so low that you know if you didn't have super hearing you'd have missed them.

"You've never been a patient man. In all the years I've known you." You breathe with a smile.

"Maybe I've just never met someone worth waiting for." Ben's nose nudges into the space between you faces, waiting for you to tell him it's okay and you want to. "But you are Sweetheart."

"You've waited forty years."

"You waited longer."

His words make a ball of emotion lodge in the back of your throat, because it meant Ben listened. He heard everything you said to him and he wasn't going to forget, he was going to make this up to you.

It was hard to say no to him, not when he was smiling at you and gazing at you the way you'd always wished him to.

"We both know I'm a bit more patient than you."

"Maybe."

"You know, maybe we should be focusing on something else right now." You smirk, still keeping your lips just as hairsbreadth away from his.

“It's hard to focus on anything else, not when you’re wearing something like that.” Ben purrs, thumbs brushing against you hips in a way that makes your chest tight.

Your smirk deepens “Oh this old thing?”

At the last minute you had chosen to wear the outfit you had picked when you thought you were going to be going to Russia to get Ben, rather than your old supe suit. You didn’t want to be connected with the person you were then, and despite Ben’s want to hold on to Soldier Boy, you were more than happy to let Indigo go.

The outfit was working better than you thought. The tight black tactical pants, combat boots, black leather jacket, and long sleeved leather corseted blouse that was sinched at your waist all perfectly accentuated the curves that your mother tried to hide. When you had walked out of your closet wearing it, Ben’s entire body had gone rigid.

“What?” You’d asked him with an innocent smile standing just a few steps outside your closet, while watching the tension in his shoulders.

“Damn it sweetheart you’re making this hard.” He had responded, clenching his hands into fists at his sides to hold himself back from crossing your bedroom to touch you. It made you smile wider to understand that he was trying to respect the boundaries you made between the two of you.

“What is it that I’m making hard Benjamin?”

“Fuck. Don’t tease me. Nobody likes a tease.”

You’d smirked at him. “Sorry babe you walked right into that one.”

“It’s not fair-“ Ben had growled.

“What’s not fair?”

“You wearing that, biting your fucking lip like that-“

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

He’d stalked towards you, eyes dark, causing you to back up until your back hit your pale bedroom wall. His hand had landed next to your head, the other wound around your hip so you could feel the heat of his skin through your clothes.

“You know, two can play at that game Sweetheart.” Ben had murmured, easing his face so close to yours that you could feel his breath against your lips.

“And what game is that?” You’d said it trying to keep your composure, but the dark look in his eyes and the smell of his shampoo was everywhere. Your heart beat had given you away, thudding violently in your chest as if it wanted to break free. It was hard to ignore how much you still wanted him after all these years.

"You know exactly what game." Ben had held your gaze, raising an eyebrow as a confident smirk pulled at his lips. He could hear your heartbeat too, probably could smell how much you wanted him. “But you’re so fucking beautiful I'll let it slide.”

“Huh?” It had been the last thing you thought he was going to say. If anything you’d thought he was going to tease you.

The hand that had been previously on the wall near your head dropped onto your face to gently trace the arch of your brow and the dip of your bottom lip.

“You always have been. I thought I remembered wrong but-" His expression shifted from the seductive smirk into something softer. "Fuck I missed you." Ben had leaned his forehead against yours. "So tease me all you want. I'll wait, because you're worth every second."

Remembering what he said earlier still filled you with an incredible amount of love and made you want to kiss him all the more now. Knowing that he was willing to wait for you to be okay with whatever came next made you fall harder for him. But now you knew that you needed to focus on what you were about to do. And standing here in front of the house, listening to what was going on inside made you sober up, just a little bit…. But not completely.

"Then again I thought those overalls were pretty sexy too." Ben states, staring down at you with a wide smile as the mid-afternoon sun turned his hair into a light brown and found the flecks of gold in his eyes. He looked every bit as handsome as you were accustomed to, so much in fact that it made your heart ache.

"Sure." You roll your eyes. "I think you're the first person in history to say that." Your fingers lightly curl into the strands at the back of his head.

"Maybe. Or maybe you're just the sexiest woman in history."

"Shut up."

Ben's gaze darkens. "Make me, Sweetheart."

Every viable thought except the thought of crashing your lips to his vanishes.

I wonder if they're as soft as I remember. If he still makes that sound when I-

"You two ready?" Butcher interrupts appearing just over Ben's shoulder, but smirking when he sees how close the two of you are. "Or do you love birds need a little alone time?"

You roll your eyes and let go of Ben's hair, as he loosens his grip on your hips. Stepping back away from him was like having a bucket of cold water drop over you, you missed him and yet he was standing a full sixteen inches away from you.

This is really not good.

"You have the worst fucking timing." Ben moves to pick up his shield, but the playful smirk he'd had a few seconds ago has been replaced with a frown.

You wondered if he was as disappointed as you were.

The wind shifts and you can smell the Temp V in Butcher's veins, hear the steady beat of his heart as it pumps blood through his body, strengthening him, making him feel indestructible. When Butcher and Hughie had injected it at the back of Butcher's car, you couldn't help but be reminded of the day you took V. You had been afraid and when they injected it, you remember the pain, the unspeakable pain that made you scream so loud that Ben heard you from the room he was being kept in, and he broke through the wall to get to you. It was how the scientists learned that Ben had super strength, because he had smashed through solid rock to make sure you were okay.

Butcher shrugs and begins to walk through the trees towards the side door of the house, leaving you and Ben alone.

"You didn't answer my question." He hefts his shield up with a smirk.

He didn't have to explain, you knew he was asking about the kiss. "I'll take a raincheck."

"Hmm." Ben takes a few steps towards the house, before he stops to look back at you. "Are you sure you're okay?"

"Huh?"

"In the car, even now. You're kinda quiet." He shrugs.

"I-" You were going to say that you were fine, but you knew that he would clock the lie. "We need to talk about something, but it can wait. This is important too."

Ben's frown deepens, but then he finally sighs. "Alright. Come on you’re lagging behind doll."

"Guess you changed your mind about wanting me here." You snort as you catch up to him.

Ben puts his hand on your wrist, turning you to look at him. "I always want you with me." His hand trails up your arm to finally rest under your chin. Ben smiles, leaning down towards you, but before you can arch up into him, he presses a kiss to your forehead. "I love you." He murmurs into the top of your head.

"I love you too."

And with that, you both follow Butcher into the house hosting the worst event in all of history.

************************************************

I should have brought ear plugs. You cringe as you follow behind Ben and Butcher, weaving through the lower levels of the house. Maybe someone will let me borrow their blindfold. Hopefully there are nose plugs somewhere… well there have been other kinds of plugs but those are a bit big for my nose.

You walk down the staircase after Ben and Butcher who pulled ahead a few moments ago and as you do the sharp sour smell of a chemical wafts in your face, different than the other odors in the house.

What is that?

You round the corner and see Ben up ahead, shrouded in smoke, staring down an attractive muscular black man who for some reason has decided to raise his fists to challenge Ben. Your eyes trace the man's face, recognition pulling at your heart. You knew who he was. The first time you'd seen him he'd only been a boy, made eye contact with you at a funeral you couldn't help but go to, after Ben made a mistake. You'd offered the boy an encouraging smile and left the boy's family an envelope of cash in their mailbox because you couldn't think of anything else to do for them. You knew it couldn't replace who they lost, but you didn't know what else to do. Ben had been upset with himself after, he always was when he lost control. He showed up on your doorstep like he always did, drunk, high, smelling like stale perfume, and fell asleep in your bed after you reassured him the same way you always did.

Now that little boy was grown up and standing in front of you. You see recognition flash in his eyes as he sees you. Of course it does. You didn't look any different and you hadn't worn your supe suit when you went to the funeral.

"Not him." Butcher says to Ben, but Ben doesn't look away from the man.

"Ben." You whisper, reaching out to touch his arm gently.

Ben's eyes flick to yours. The look in Ben's eyes is familiar, predatory, unwilling to back down from a fight. Soldier Boy. You'd seen it countless times before, talked him out of killing people in the past. You hated how quickly you had to slip into your old job, the one that made you feel like a babysitter, but you shake it off.

"He doesn't know what he's doing. Come on. The Twins are upstairs, I can hear them arguing." It was true, you could, but you didn't want this to turn ugly so quickly. Not when the real reason why you were here were currently arguing about toilet cameras.

His jaw tightens, eyes sliding to the man standing at the other end of the room, before he nods once and motions for you to go ahead of him.

As you continue to move through the house, you fight the shudder that threatens to travel down your spine when you think of how Ben looked moments ago. It was the first time you had seen Soldier Boy since Ben showed up again, and it was the same way you remembered it. You just hoped deep down that Ben really did want to change and that he was adopting the façade of Soldier Boy to get through what came next. You knew that you were going to have to adopt one as well.

"Here." You stop just before the two of you round the corner where the Twins were in the other room. "Let me go first. They might not try to run if I go in before you."

Ben frowns. "I don't want you to-"

"I know, but it'll be better this way."

"Fine."

You walk around the wall and towards the circular room where the Twins are fighting, ignoring the couples on the outskirts that are grinding against one another.

Like Countess, the Twins didn't look good, both were considerably older, rounder, grayer, and more wrinkly than the last time you'd seen them, but they were still the same. Still arguing and still just as annoying as they had been forty years ago.

"I never want to see you again!" Tommy spits at his sister, adjusting the golden robe slung over his shoulders that flaps around him like a cape.

"Oh sure!" Tessa sniffs while puffing on a joint. "Our Westfield mall appearance is next week and nobody is going to come see you without me!"

That must suck to have your powers depend on someone else.

"Wow, mall appearances? Aren't we all getting a bit old for that?" You flash a winning smile as you step down into the room, locking eyes with Tessa.

Both of the twins visibly pale, their hearts speeding up to work overtime, as the stench of adrenaline begins to waft through the air between you. It's almost comical how identical their reactions are to Countess' at seeing you for the first time in forty years. Then again you hoped that you looked better than they did.

Why didn't I try to find out more after Ben "died?" If our entire team had this reaction to seeing me then I would have known the truth and Ben wouldn't have been in a fucking Russian Lab all these years!

Their plan to ensure you not being in Nicaragua had paid off, because not only were you not there, you didn't want anything to do with any of them. And you wished that you had confronted them all those years ago. You knew that you'd live with that guilt for a long time, but now you allowed your anger at what they all did to Ben, overpower it.

"Y/n-" Tessa stutters.

It was weird to see her at a loss for words. You and all of Payback had listened to her nag Tommy since the moment they joined the team. Judging by what you had walked into, you figured that she hadn't changed at all.

"Hey long time no see!" Tommy fakes enthusiasm while licking his lips nervously, eyes darting to the open doors behind you. You could practically see the escape plan forming in his mind.

"You know, when I found out you guys were living in Vermont I was surprised. I would have thought that you moved down South. They’re probably more accepting of your relationship.” You make air quotes around the word relationship, before shifting your smile into an worried frown. “Oh sorry, are the two of you still pretending that you’re not fucking?”

Tessa’s gaze turns stone cold. “What the fuck do you want?”

“I was in the neighborhood, thought I’d check in.” You look around the room. “You guys have a nice house. Must have budgeted better than Countess did. Her tailer, now that was a shit hole. Must not have done as many mall appearances.”

Tommy’s heart skips a beat at the mention of Countess’s name. “Look y/n-“

“Please. We didn’t have anything against you. We didn’t come after you. Even after all these years we left you alone.” Fear seeps into Tessa’s voice with her plea, eyes wide with worry.

They had reason to be worried, you’d all but admitted to killing Countess.

“Oh sweetie.” You with false sweetness in your tone. “It’s cute that you think you can beg for mercy. That you're deserving of it.” The room begins to shake with the force of your anger as your eyes shift to bright purple. Cracks like thin spiderwebs stretch through the wide windows behind them and through the thick drywall as you lose control, the composure you always held on to drowning in the flood of emotion you feel when you look at the two of them. “Ben told me exactly what happened that day-“

“He lied to you!” Tommy exclaims. “He went crazy! You know how he gets, how he loses control!”

“He lost control and we had to protect ourselves y/n-“ Tessa adds, another lie.

Ben steps into the room beside you, his eyes are focused on the Twins, and if you thought they looked afraid when you showed up, they look near dead when Ben appears.

"You were saying?" You raise an eyebrow.

"Ben! Hey Buddy!." Tommy forces another smile but pales when he realizes Ben just heard him and Tessa try to lie to you. "How are you? Long time. We were just talking to y/n about-“

Ben's eyes narrow, stopping whatever Tommy was going to say about you.

"Nicaragua wasn't our fault!" Tommy says to recover. "Neither was the premiere." His eyes dart to yours, cowering under the purple light that pulses from your irises.

Wow. Just. Wow.

"We swear." Tessa adds.

"Why should we believe you?" You spit.

"Please-"

"Then whose fault was it?" Ben's frown deepens, hand tightening on the shield.

None of the other couples have stopped what they are doing, too enthralled in one another to notice what was going to unfold between the four of you.

"It was Noir!" Tommy shouts desperately, his eyes flitting from Ben to you as if trying to see which one of you will believe him. "He gave Ben to the Russians."

It's almost pathetic watching his mad scramble to protect himself. Apart of you hates that you don't feel guilty for any of this, at least with Countess at the beginning you felt some guilt for hurting her, but with them there was nothing. Not even the prick of remorse, there was only anger.

Ben chuckles under his breath. "We all know that Noir didn't even take a shit without Vought's say so."

"Not to mention his head was so far up Stan's ass it's a wonder that he could breathe." You narrow your eyes at the two of them waiting for them to make a move. They might be cowards, but if you knew the Twins well enough, you knew that they weren't above throwing a bolt of lighting in your direction. And you knew for a fact that electrocution wasn't fun.

"It's the truth!" Tessa shouts above the moans and wet squelch of the people around you. “Please y/n we have children.”

“You're really the worst liar hon. Always have been." You snap, listening to her heartbeat jolt in her chest as she attempts to save herself.

"Please talk Ben out of this, just like you did for Noir-“ Tommy's plea falls on deaf ears, but you knew what he was talking about. The day that you saved Noir's life because he started a fight with Ben over a stupid role in a movie. But this was different, no part of you wanted to save them from this, to save them from what they deserved.

“Noir will get what’s coming to him.” You don't recognize your own voice. "You brought this on yourselves."

But then something shifts in the air, call it a feeling, or an energy current, but something feels wrong.

The music coming from the radio has changed to a Russian pop song, why it's playing you have no idea, all you know is that it does something to Ben.

The sound of his shield hitting the ground rings in your ears and you turn to look at him. His entire body is tensed beneath his suit, sweat dotting along his hairline, red beginning to creep into his cheeks. His eyes are squeezed shut and he shakes his head as if he's trying to clear it.

"Ben? Are you okay?" Your hold on the room vanishes, eyes fading back to their normal color as your worry turns to Ben.

His fists are clenched tightly together as he brings them up to the sides of his head, chest beginning to glow with his new power, the one you'd never seen before, the one that Ben said practically vaporized whatever was in it's path.

Shit.

"Ben. Stay with me, listen to my voice." You touch the sides of his face, begging him to listen to your plea. As much as you wanted the Twins to pay, Ben wasn't just losing control of his powers, this was different. It was almost like he was being dragged somewhere else, somewhere you couldn't follow.

"Everything's okay. I'm here, I'm right here." You soothe, but he continues to glow brighter and brighter and you're directly in the line of fire.

Shit.

Ben's eyes flash open, no longer bright green but an orange-gold that makes fear snag in your ribs like a fishing hook. His hand makes contact with your chest shoving you to the side, out of the way of the beam, but unfortunately through the solid rock wall.

You don't really know what happens next. The world goes black for a few minutes, not like when you die, but just black as everything burns around you when Ben explodes. You're not sure how long you're under, could be minutes, could be hours, all you know is that when you wake up everything hurts.

It's how you know that you didn't officially die. Whenever you woke up after death, it was different, you felt powerful, reborn, but right now you felt like a train ran over you. A headache throbs at your temples as you begin to come to, blinking your eyes against the darkness that doesn't go away. Your ears are ringing, filled with the screams of those who survived and the smell of burned flesh and blood surrounds you like a cloud.

A mountain of rubble and roofing covers you, leaving you in the darkness to get your bearings, but nothing feels broken.

At least the brick fireplace broke my fall. You think to yourself with a groan as you begin to push off the planks of wood and pieces of the roof that cover your body, so you can sit up. As soon as you do, your head spins and you fight the unpleasant urge to throw up.

Great. Might have a concussion.

You might be as strong as Ben, but your ability to die meant that you were just a little bit less equipped to handle a hit like that.

Ben. Worry and fear war in your heart as you look around the broken room that lays in tatters around you.

The house isn’t recognizable anymore. Singed carpet floats in tufts with ash around your face like a swarm of flies while fires burn in clumps all over the ruined room. Chunks of drywall and planks of blackened wood litter the floor and the back half of the house is gone, burned to a crisp in the blast from Ben.

What the fuck did they put in his chest? Ben had tried to describe it to you, tried to explain it, but standing here in the rubble you understood just how bad it was. The ruins in Mid-town you had seen the coverage of on the news, but it was a completely different thing to experience it in person.

People are going to think that he did this on purpose. That he's a bad person, that he's some kind of terrorist. The thought is immediately followed by the fear that Vought and the government would come to take him away. Your jaw tightens. I'd like to see them try.

The bodies of Tommy and Tessa are burned beyond recognition, still holding hands, but now are just blacked lumps of flesh and bone that lay where they tried to make their final stand. But you feel no remorse.

It’s what we came here to do, to make them pay. You bite the inside of your cheek listening to the screams of those who survived. I just didn't think that so many others would get hurt.

You continue to look around the room, worry rising in your chest as you think of Ben and remember the look on his face. He had been scared of what was about to happen even if he didn’t want to admit it. He lost control. In the past when he lost control the worst thing he could do was rip someone in half or smash their face into a pulp, but now if Ben ever lost control he'd level a building.

I see a lot of yoga in his future. Or maybe anger management classes.

Although the thought makes you smile, as soon as you see Ben everything else fades from your mind. Ben is on his knees in the center of the room, head slumped forward on his chest, hands laying limply by his sides, as he takes in shaky breaths. You could hear the frantic pound of his heart, beating hard against his rib cage as if begging to be released. Seeing him like that almost sends you into overdrive. You’d never seen him look so defeated, so small, so tired, so… lost.

“Ben?” You fall to your knees next to him, reaching out to touch his face, to bring his attention to you.

His body tenses as you do so, eyes narrowing when he meets yours like he doesn’t know you. His eyes miles away.

But where?

“Hey, it’s me.” You say gently, cupping his face with your hands to rub your thumbs across his cheeks while fear grips your heart as you try to bring him back to you. “It’s me, I’m here. It’s okay.”

Ben inhales sharply as if suddenly remembering, the look in his eyes clearing for a moment, rising through the fog. "Y/n?" He whispers.

"Yeah. I'm here." You repeat, smiling at him even though the urge to cry builds in the back of your throat. It broke your heart to see him like this. You push his hair back from his face, brushing the ash from the mahogany strands.

“Are you okay? Did I-“ Worry etches itself across his handsome face.

“I’m fine. Shhh.” You soothe, pulling him against you so your can rub his back softly and lock him in your embrace. But the truth was you were afraid. You didn’t understand what happened and couldn’t explain the look in his eyes when he went under, when he started to lose himself in his newfound powers. Ben crumbles into you, leaning his head against your shoulder as if needing it to strengthen him.

“It’s okay. Everything’s okay.” You weren’t sure the effects the blast had on him, just that he seemed unsure as to how the hell he did it.

Where did he go in those moments?

“The twins?” Ben mumbles.

“They’re dead.” You could hear the approaching ambulances and police cars, hear the anxious chatter of the survivors outside.

We’ve got to get out of here.

“Come on. Let’s go.” You say softly rising to your feet and helping him up. Ben stumbles a step, shaking his head like he can’t catch his bearings and the worry comes roaring back. You catch him and tilt his body so he can lean on you. “Ben are you okay?” Your fingers dance against the sides of his face trying to bring his focus back to you, because you were afraid he might lose himself to whatever the hell happened before.

“I will be in a minute.” Ben takes in a shaky breath, leaning on your shoulder. "I don't know what happened."

"It's okay." His shield rises telekinetically from the rubble and into your outstretched hand that glows a brilliant purple in the dusty light. Smoke billows up from the room around you obscuring the sunlight that filters through the ruined front of the house, but you can still see the front drive already becoming swarmed with people and news crews.

Because that's exactly what Rosemary needs to see, me and Ben on the 5'oclock news. Fuck.

"Come on." You lead him back the way you can, toting his shield in your free hand, down the stairs.

When you spot Butcher, Ben straightens finally catching his bearings and takes the shield from you. Butcher looks from Ben to you, eyebrows raised.

"Sorted?"

"Yeah." Ben frowns.

You could tell that he was still a little shaky, but you knew he wasn't going to admit that to anyone, especially not to Butcher. Your gaze falls on the man from before laying on the ground, the man that Butcher had told Ben to leave.

Why did he want Ben to spare his life if Butcher was only going to beat him down?

But just as you take a step towards the man to check him for injuries, a long shadow falls on the floor at your feet.

Your eyes jolt upwards and focus on Homelander. The smell of hairspray, hair dye, and cheap cologne waft through the air at Homelander's appearance. He's shorter than you expected him to be, not overtly muscular, but he didn't need to be. Supes with superstrength didn't need to look like body builders, and you suspected that the only reason why Homelander even had any kind of muscle was for his image as America's Hero. Then again, you never complained about Ben's muscular physique.

I don’t think anybody should complain about that and- Nope. Nope. Not thinking about that right now.

But as you stare at him there's something wrong, something that you can't place, something that tugs at the back of your mind when you look at him, almost as if you've forgotten something important.

Seeing him in person is surreal. You'd only ever seen him on the news or on billboards or on those stupid energy drinks that were sold at the bodega on the corner where you get coffee filters sometimes, but the look in his eyes is the same. It's cold, unfeeling, and reminds you of those ridiculous shark documentaries that Rosemary is obsessed with. The only time she could watch shark week was after Lou went to bed. She said that watching it made her feel better about her job and you didn't complain.

Homelander looks around the room forcing a smile, a predatory glare in his eyes.

"William Butcher and Soldier Boy. Of course you are behind this. It really is all about me." Homelander's smile widens.

Narcissistic much? This guy's like a walking red flag.

He takes a step closer to the three of you, and Ben steps in front of you to shield you from Homelander's view. Homelander clocks the movement, but then tsks his finger at Butcher.

"William we made a deal to fight to the death, you and me." Homelander's eyes begin to glow. "You cheated, deals off."

The red flash of the laser-vision illuminates Ben's face in sharp contrast as the beam hits Butcher full in the chest propelling him back into the wall. His body falls to the ground and lies still.

Well. That's not good.

Honestly you didn't like Butcher all that much, but you couldn't help but feel a little bit bad.

You glance up from Butcher's body to gaze at Homelander again. Fighting him hadn't been on the agenda today, but it was starting to look that way. You knew what his powers were, knew that Vought probably told him his entire life that he was a god and that no one could compare to him. And you knew that the man standing next to you hadn't changed enough to walk away from the fight, no matter how bad his odds were.

And deep down you knew that you weren't going to let Ben take that beating, which of course meant that you were going to fight Homelander. Not that you were afraid of him. One look at him might have sent everyone else heading for the hills, but he didn't intimidate you.

"I watched all your movies, hundreds of times. You were the only one that was nearly as strong as me." The look on Homelander's face is one of respect almost wonder.

And you can imagine a smaller version of Homelander being fed all the same propaganda that Ben and you were fed all those years ago, imagine Homelander growing up hearing that he was stronger, greater, faster than Soldier Boy, and imagine Vogelbaum working hard to make sure to mold Homelander into the hero that America wanted. Not to mention all the shit he probably heard when he was with Stormfront. You were very happy that you didn't have to see her again, though now you had a fun story to tell Ben about one of his exes.

“Buddy you’re wearing a cape, do you think you look strong?” Ben frowns at Homelander.

“It is pretty stupid.” You agree examining Homelander’s supe suit. “Honestly I thought you had it bad with that dorky looking helmet-“ You glance at Ben out of the corner of your eye.

“Really? You’re gonna do this now?” Ben glowers turning his attention to you.

“I’m just being honest it was pretty bad and I’m glad you decided not to wear it today. But his cape is definitely worse.”

“Do you want me to bring up that ridiculous hood you had?”

“You can, but I won’t believe you, because that hood was fabulous and I looked fantastic in it.”

Homelander clears his throat to catch your attention. “Um hello?”

“Hi.” You force a smile. “Oh sorry did we interrupt your little monologue?”

Homelander's gaze turns icy as you continue. “Because we can take this from the top. What was the line again? Something about power or watching his films? I was only half listening. Did you want me to record it for you so you can post it on your socials?”

“What the f-“ Homelander begins to say, but you interrupt him.

“I mean. That is why you practiced it in the mirror for so long right? And why you did your hair and makeup?" You scrunch up your nose. "I'd skip that last mist of hairspray if I were you. You want it to look smooth, not look like you stuck your finger in an electrical socket.”

You could tell that Ben was trying to maintain his composure, but his mouth was twitching in a smile. “Oh wait does your suit have a body cam? I guess that makes things easier, because it probably doesn't have pockets. Not to mention if you dropped your phone while you were flying around-"

"Who the fuck are you?" Homelander spits interrupting you.

"No one important."

“Is he really what passes for a hero these days?” Ben cocks an eyebrow. “He’s just a cheap fucking knock off of me.”

“No.” Homelander snarls, eyes beginning to glow bright red. “I’m the upgrade.”

The laser cuts through the air in slow motion, but you’re already moving.

"Ben!" His name rips from your throat as you lunge forward and shove him as hard as you can out of the way of the beam. You feel the laser tear through your body, the force throwing you backward through one of the wood paneled walls and then the darkness swallows you whole.

If someone were to ask you what it was like to die, you wouldn’t know how to answer. To exist in those thirteen seconds sometimes feels like a dream, like you're floating, but it's always silent. And the silence scares you. How quickly it comes to drag you under and how it seems to replace everything you know or remember about the real world until you come back to life. You understood why Ben didn't like being alone, because you didn't either. It reminded you too much of those moments you were gone, wishing for it to stop. There was never a bright light, there was only the darkness and the silence that fell when your heart stopped beating.

When you take your first breath in thirteen seconds it's full of dust and ash, swirling into your mouth as you inhale sharply to jumpstart your lungs. But at the same time everything is different. The colors in the room are brighter, the sounds more acute, the smells just a fraction stronger, and you feel different. Power floods through your limbs, swirling through flesh and bone, pouring through your veins, electrifying through each nerve ending and setting you on fire, more than any other power ever has. You'd never felt power like this before. Even with Countess and the others that had killed you, no other power you'd ever gotten had felt this strong.

You stand up from the rubble you landed in, covered in a layer of dust and blood. The hole in your new outfit where the laser struck is just under your left breast, the mark left behind already a pink scar. And you knew that Ben would probably kill you for it later, for taking the laser for him, but you didn't care.

Homelander is floating in the center of the room, holding Ben by the throat, smiling cruelly at him.

"Hey asshole." You snarl, spitting out a glob of blood onto the ruined carpet. "We're not done."

Homelander turns his head towards you amused, while Ben grabs at the front of his suit, trying to get his attention, but Homelander is focused on you.

"So that's it? That's your big trick? Laser vision? Forgive me for not cowering in fear." Your hands clench into fists at your sides.

He eyes you for a moment. "You're Indigo aren't you?"

"I used to be. Now I'm just disappointed. I expected more from Vought's big hero, but now I see that you're just another asshole who thinks he's a god." Your eyes drift to Ben for a moment, worry clawing at your heart when you meet his gaze. "So drop him. Before I drop you."

"You’re very confident for someone who was dead a few seconds ago. I don't really see how that ability is going to help you-"

"Before I didn’t want to kill you."

"And you think you can?" He laughs.

"No." You smirk. "I know I can."

"Who do you think you’re talking to?"

"I’m not talking to much." Your eyes narrow. "But I'll be nice, and I'll give you a chance to leave. To tuck your tail between your fucking legs and fly away. We didn't come here for you and you and I don't have to do this."

"And if I don't leave?"

"Then I'll kill you."

"I'd like to see you try." Homelander throws Ben as hard as he can through the brick fireplace, causing rock and mortar to rain down on top of him, but Homelander's eyes don't leave yours. “Well why don’t you give me your best sho-“

He doesn’t have time to finish his sentence, your body ploughs into his tackling him through the solid outer wall and onto the back lawn.

Truthfully you hadn’t meant to go through the wall, you’d only meant to pin him to it, but flying was proving just a little more difficult than you expected. Your hand closes on Homelander’s wrist bringing him down against the ground so hard that the earth quakes, before you throw him as far away from you as you can.

His body spins awkwardly in the air, before he ploughs into one of the thick oak trees head on, at the edge of the backyard. The loud snap of the tree compensating for Homelander’s body fills the air.

He stumbles to his feet, eyes narrowed in pure hatred, lip curled back in a snarl, and his blonde hair flopping forward into his face.

“You chose wrong.” You spit, rolling your shoulders, preparing for what came next.

Homelander lets out a roar and flies towards you, arms outstretched for you, but you’re ready for him.

You catch his fist before it lands against your face and tighten your other hand around his throat. Your bodies are floating two feet off the ground, but it doesn’t faze you.

When Homelander’s gaze meets yours you see just a flicker of fear, a spark, quickly masked by his shock. He struggles to pull away to push you away with his free hand, but all you do is tighten your grip.

"You've never felt real pain before have you?" You force your face into a sympathetic frown, before your eyes harden. "Allow me to enlighten you." You throw him to the ground again, watching his body spin and screech against the grass and dirt.

Given the screams and smell of blood in the air, any witnesses from the massacre inside were at the front of the house waiting for the police, leaving you and Homelander on the backside of the house alone.

Worry for Ben rose in your chest like the peak of a wave, you hadn't seen him since Homelander threw him through the fireplace, but you funnel that worry into all encompassing rage.

"They told you that you were a god right? That you were the most powerful supe that ever lived. They were wrong. There's only one supe more powerful than you, and you just fucking pissed her off." You shout beginning to float towards him.

Homelander growls rising to his feet, eyes glowing bright red as he fires a laser at you, but you’re ready.

Your own beam catches his mid air between you, the high pitched sizzle and smell of ozone floats across your face, but you don't back down. If anything, it just makes you more angry.

And then something slams into you from the side, breaking the connection between your beam and Homelander's.

"What-" You shout, looking up at the body above yours, preparing to blast them off, but you realize it's Ben. "Ben what-"

"Stay here." He growls, eyes black. Ben looks pissed, whether it’s because you pushed Ben out of the way before or if it’s because he’s annoyed that Homelander punched him you’re not sure.

"What?" You look beyond him, to see Hughie and Butcher tackle Homelander to the ground.

They're going to try to turn him human.

"I can hold him down-" You say. “Let me help.”

"No." Ben snarls as he stalks towards Homelander, his chest beginning to glow.

“Ben-“

“Stay the fuck there.” Ben shouts still looking at Homelander.

Your eyes flit to the leader of the Seven. Watching him struggle against Hughie and Butcher, who yell at one another, but you don’t hear them. You wait for the remorse to crash over you, the guilt, but it never comes.

I gave him a choice. He could have run. He didn’t. He chose this.

And just when you think it’s all over, Homelander breaks away from them, surging up into the air to freedom. You feel your feet leave the ground to follow him, someone’s hand tightens on your ankle and drags you back down to earth.

“No.” Ben’s voice is more of a growl than anything else.

He’s angry, that much you can tell from the look on his face and from the way his eyes have hardened into two solid chunks of emerald as he locks eyes with you.

But why? Angry because Homelander got away or angry because I pushed him out of the way?

“Ben I can get him. Let me go.” You kick your ankle but Ben holds on.

“No.” Ben snarls. “You’re not about to go after that sick fuck by yourself.”

“Ben-“

“No. If I have to chain you to the ground I will.” Ben pulls you down further and releases your ankle to fasten his hand around you waist to hold you tighter against the ground. “You’re not going after him.”

“Fine.” You snap pulling yourself from his grasp, your own temper flaring.

You hated when Ben did that, when he acted like you weren’t just as capable as him of doing this. It reminded you of your childhood, when you were treated like you were made of glass, a pretty doll that was made to be looked at but never touched.

And you knew it came from Ben’s want to protect you, knew that it came from his fear of losing you, but that didn’t make it any less annoying.

You didn’t pout when Ben went out to face someone, didn’t try to act like he couldn’t do it.

“I know that maybe I’m a little behind but… WHAT THE FUCK JUST HAPPENED?” Hughie shouts. “You have laser vision and you can fly and you can move things with your mind!?” He looks frantically from you to Ben.

You don’t answer, your eyes are still on Ben who looks ready to throw Butcher’s car into space. You could practically see the waves of anger rolling off of him like a comic strip.

“You didn’t before, did you?” Butcher’s eyes trace your body as things begin to click into place. “You didn’t before he killed you.”

“Hold on.” Hughie holds up his hand. “Are you telling me that you die and you come back to life WITH THE POWERS OF THE SUPE THAT KILLED YOU?”

“It wasn’t in the files.” Butcher’s eyes still haven’t left you. “Vought didn’t know did they?”

You don’t like the way he’s looking at you, don’t like the glimmer in his eyes as if you’d just solved all his problems. It was the exact look that was in the eyes of the scientists the day you took the serum for the first time. To them that’s all Ben and you were, lab rats, people who were stupid enough to listen to the wild ideas of glory and a better world they spouted.

“We should go.” You murmur, listening to the sounds of the ambulances and the police coming up the driveway. “It’s about to be a circus here and I'd rather not make my big social media debut covered in rubble and blood."

Ben’s mouth is clamped together, green eyes blazing at your mention of blood. You knew that he was focused on the bloody hole left behind in the corset where Homelander's laser had ripped through your body.

Another scar, another fun story to tell my daughter when I see her… great.

*****************************************

The car ride to Legend’s is dead silent. Ben doesn’t look at you, doesn’t try to hold your hand, and doesn’t try to touch you in any way. Instead his hands are curled into fists, sitting on the tops of his thighs while his anger heats the inside of the car like a furnace. You knew it was only a matter until he exploded, but now you had bigger things on your mind.

You had just exposed yourself to Homelander, showed your face to him, not to mention you admitted to being Indigo. It would be easy for him to find your real name in the Vought archives find your file and the same name that linked you to Rosemary. She’d gone back to her maiden name when her husband died, which meant the two of you had the same last name and it wouldn’t be difficult for Homelander to find her.

Which meant you needed to get to her first.

You had tried to text her, tried to tell her to have a bag ready and that you were going to pick her up, but she was refusing to do so and you didn’t exactly want to text “Homelander is a fucking psychopath and he’s going to come after you” to her phone. Plus you couldn’t exactly call her, not in this cramped car.

Legend is waiting on the front porch of his country home when Butcher pulls his car into the end of the long driveway, somewhere that you’d been to many times in the past. He's smoking a joint and scrolling through his phone, wearing the same outfit you had seen him in a few days ago.

"Kitten!" He smiles wide at you when he sees you and pulls you into a hug. “I was worried when I heard about that mess with Countess. You never called.” Legend frowns at you, blowing out a lungful of smoke. "Guess you guys had a talk."

"Something like that." You frown. "It got complicated really fast."

“I told you so.” His eyes shift to where Ben is glowering a foot behind you. "I see he found you. I didn't tell him-"

"I know you didn't. Thank you for keeping your promise." You smile tightly, squeezing Legend's hand. He really was a good friend. One of the oldest ones you had besides Ben.

"Figured if I did, you'd keep him from ripping my head off."

“Haven’t decided if I’m not going to yet.” Ben snarls and Legend's eyes widen in fear.

But you knew that he was just redirecting his anger. Ben was angry because you put yourself in harms way to protect him and the sooner you had it out, the sooner you could go get Rosemary and Lou.

"Ben we both know that you're not mad at Legend, you're mad at me. So you might as well spit it out, because we've got bigger problems than your hissy fit-" You begin to say. You were sick of him pouting, refusing to look at you, refusing to touch you.

"What the FUCK were you thinking?!" Ben roars towering over you, eyes flashing. "Getting between me and him like that!"

Legend backs away, afraid that he's going to get caught in the cross-fire.

"Calm down." You sigh, gritting your teeth together. You were trying your best not to lose it either, because the last thing this situation needed was you losing control.

"DON’T TELL ME TO CALM DOWN." Ben's hands are clenched tightly into fists, his suit beginning to glow bright.

"You're going to have to calm down or you're going to blast me to kingdom come!" You snap back.

Ben grits his teeth together and closes his eyes tightly while his chest begins to fade back to normal and when it does, he opens his eyes to glare at you. "Why did you do that? I had him handled-"

"You didn't."

"Yes I did. You didn't give me a chance to-"

"No what I did was I didn't give that psychopath a chance to punch a hole through your chest with his fucking laser vision." You poke him in the chest. "Of the two of us, I have a greater chance of surviving that!”

By then Butcher and Hughie had moved to give the two of you a wide berth, standing where Legend was watching the two of you looking bored. They were probably hoping that you didn’t cut one of them in half with your new powers.

"Are they always like this?" You hear Butcher ask Legend from where they stand a safe distance away.

"Pretty much." Legend answers, blowing out a puff of the fowl smelling smoke.

"Do you ever get used to it?" Hughie mutters.

"Nope."

“Is there an off button?” Butcher sighs.

“Nope.” Legend puffs his joint.

"You don't know that!" Ben spits back at you. "I could have!"

"I wasn't willing to take that chance damnit!"

How can I make him understand this? How can he finally understand what it would be like for me to lose him all over again, just when I got him back?

"Do you really think that I'm willing to play Russian Roulette with your life?" Ben snarls, grabbing you by the shoulders so tightly you're sure they'll be bruises but all you can do is look into his quickly darkening eyes. "Do you have any idea what it did to me to see you die AGAIN? To see him TOUCH YOU? To know that he HURT you?"

"We've already had this conversation Ben-"

"And we're going to fucking have it again!" His grip tightens. "I told you to stay behind me!"

The last time he'd touched you like this was the night of the premiere, when he told you that he didn't care about you, that he could never love you. The memory of that night lodges itself in the back of your throat, but you keep it down.

"And I told you that I wasn't going to do that!"

"Damn it y/n you can't-"

You pull yourself away from him. "No Ben. You can't tell me what to do. You don't get to control me. People have tried to control me all my damn life and when I first came with you I thought I was giving that up. But no, I just moved on and Vought took over. When I decided to live my own life, to stop being a supe, I was free! Finally! After forty years of bullshit I was finally free!"

Ben’s jaw is so tightly locked together you think you hear the grinding of his teeth. “So what are you saying? Are you saying that when you’re with me you feel trapped? Like I’m holding you fucking hostage?!”

“No.” You exhale heavily. "I understand that you love me. I understand that you want to protect me. But you need to understand that I love you too. That just as you're willing to lay down your life for me, I am willing to lay down my life for you. And if you want this to work between us, you need to understand that you don't control me. You're not my dad or my owner, you're the man I love. And until you realize that I am just as capable of protecting you as you are protecting me-"

"I know that." Ben seethes.

"What?"

"Do you really think that I don't see how strong you are?” You watch something flash in his eyes that isn't anger, the vulnerable look is back for a fleeting moment and it rocks you to your core. "I don’t want to control you! I’m not trying to. Have you thought that maybe after all this time I just wanted you to need me like I need you?"

His confession makes your heart stop. Does he really think that I don’t need him? That after all these years there’s no one else that I’ve needed more in my entire life?

“Ben.” You sigh while stretching out your hand to lay against his arm, but he flinches away. “ I do need you. You have no idea how much I need you, no idea what it did to me when I lost you even after everything that happened. I just don’t want you to treat me like I’m made of glass.”

“I don’t treat you like you’re-“ He begins to say.

“Yes. You do. And there’s nothing wrong with wanting to protect me, but you have to understand that I want to protect you too.”

He huffs out a breath, shoulders tensed, arms crossed over his muscular chest. “I do understand that. I just hate it when you do that, that you push me out of the way. I hate when you get hurt.”

“And I hate when you get hurt." You bite the inside of your cheek. "You say that you were angry that Homelander hurt me, but did you stop to consider what it did to me to see him try to hurt you? Do you know what it did to me to see him touch you?”

Ben stands there for a minute glaring down at you, before his gaze begins to soften. “No.” He grumbles.

“Exactly.”

You both stand there for a minute eyeing one another, daring the other to break the silence.

This is ridiculous.

Finally Ben, sighs out a breath and jerks you forward against his chest. The hug would be bone crushing for anyone else, but not to you.

“You’re so fucking annoying.” He mutters into the top of your head, while his body curves around yours.

“I love you too asshole.” You huff, hugging him back just as tight.

“See they always work it out.” Legend shrugs at Butcher. “Takes them a while to get there. They made my job so much harder in the 70’s. Though I will say it’s a relief that they’re finally admitting they love each other. Way too much sexual tension before, gave me anxiety.”

Ben pulls back to look at your face with another loud sigh. He still looks a little angry, but not angry enough to start shouting again. His thumb strokes against your cheek. “Are you okay?”

You nod once leaning into his touch. “Are you?” You brush back some of his dark hair out of his face, looking for bruises but you don’t see any.

“Yeah.” He nods.

“If the two of you are done, we have bigger things to worry about-“ Butcher begins to say.

“We are and we do.” You interrupt looking away from Ben to stare at Butcher. “I need to borrow your car.”

“Why?”

“I need to go back to the city.”

“What?” Ben sputters releasing you from his grasp.

“And I think it would be better if I went alone-“ You continue slowly.

Honestly you did think that it would be better if you went alone, but you didn’t want to. You wanted Ben to come with you, the problem was Rosemary.

“Like hell I’m letting you go alone with that son of a bitch flying around!” Ben shouts, temper flaring again.

“Which is why I have to go.” You try to say it diplomatically, try to have him understand without having to explain it. But there’s really no way around it, around any of this.

“No.”

“Ben please c-"

“Don’t tell me to calm down again! I’m not being crazy. You’re not going after him!” His eyes blaze a brilliant green, as he crosses his hands over his chest.

“Ben-“

“Why can’t you listen to me for once?”

“BEN!” You shout, grabbing his face and holding his cheeks between your palms to catch his attention.

“What?” Ben’s eyes lock with yours.

“I’m not going to the city to go after Homelander.”

He pauses confused. “Then why are you-“

And you just can’t take it anymore. You can’t hold it in any longer, can’t think of a way to tell him without just ripping the bandaid off. Your eyes meet his, apologetic, determined, and just a little bit fearful.

“I’m going back into the city to get our daughter.”

*****************************************************

A/N: I know I know, it's been a while and honestly I didn't mean to get hit by writer's block this bad 😂😭

But it kinda works out, because what better way to celebrate Father's Day than to tell Soldier Boy that he's a dad?

As always thank you so much for reading! There are big things coming! And thank so much for the love and support! If you'd like to be added to the taglist please let me know :)

Taglist: @roseblue373 @anundyingfidelity @cheynovak @cassiecasluciluce @muhahaha303 @deans-spinster-witch @kayleighmeister @demodemo909 @fruitfacess @bobbobbobinogs @bughill126 @simplyfixated @sleepjam @tiredstrangerr @freefallthoughts @onlyangel-444 @lov3vivian @mxltifxnd0m @mayafatimakhan @marvel-mistress @my-obsession-spn @lifeonawhim @soldirboy @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

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jeons-catalyst · 2 days

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Hey this might seem like an odd question but if you were asked to describe Taehyung and Jungkook’s dynamic, how would you? I really love the way you explain things so i would love to know what you think about their dynamic. Thanks

Hey anon,

The question isn’t odd at all so don’t worry.

The very first thing i’ll say about taekook as a pair is that their relationship with each other is extremely misunderstood. They are misunderstood by the multitude of shippers they have and it has been like this since the very beginning.

I think there is a part of Jk that will always hold some deep gratitude towards Tae because he was instrumental in helping him break out of his shy shell. I don’t think anyone can deny that Jk has some sort of soft spot for Taehyung. I think that when taekook were younger, Jk liked Tae so much and liked following him around like a puppy because Tae was the only member in the band he could completely be himself with (at some point). This was the member he could goof around with, get in trouble together with, do fun things together with and most importantly, i think for a time being Tae was sort of his safe place in public and/or uncomfortable settings. Jk mentioned that Tae helped him break out of his shy shell so i can imagine that anytime Jk felt shy or anxious while in public, he would seek out Tae because that is where he felt most comfortable mainly because of Tae’s personality. Tae was quirky, fun and weird in a good way. Being around him guaranteed anyone a fun filled time so i guess things like this helped put Jungkook at ease.

Now, i don’t mean that he didn’t feel comfortable with his other hyungs but because they were much older than he was and there was always a certain boundary he couldn’t cross whereas with Tae, he could to totally feel like he had a same age friend he could have fun with and just be a kid with without having to worry about coming off disrespectful or crossing boundaries. We have to remember that Jk was only a kid when he joined bighit. He was 15 years old. What do typical 15 year olds do? They play with their friends after school, goof around together and just have fun. Jk was the youngest stuck with 6 other boys older than him whom he knew he had to respect to a certain degree. Tae to him was like that same age friend he was missing in a normal life setting and craved so bad. Watching fetus taekook, you cannot miss how close those two were and how much Jungkook liked Taehyung and how much Taehyung kinda took Jungkook under his wing.

In my opinion, taekook are friends who really love and care about each other and connect in so many ways, especially in things that are fun. I however don’t think these two have ever really had that much of a deep emotional connection. What i mean by this is, i think their interests in each other is mostly centered around the fun things they can do together and not how many deep talks they can have or how much they can understand each other’s hearts. Let me give you examples. When Jk was younger, he would almost always pick Tae to play games with. Even when he was asked who he wanted to share a room with, he picked Tae. What was interesting wasn’t the fact that he picked Tae but the reason he did. Some other person might have said something like “ i picked X because we get along well so i know we wouldn’t fight” or “ i picked Y because i he is neat and doesn’t leave a mess” but Jk said he picked Tae so that they could play games all night long. Mind you this was fetus Jk who was less media trained and pretty much blurted things out as he thought them.

Now let’s look at how he picked Jimin (for example). When Jk was asked who gives him most comfort, it was Jimin, who knows him best, it was Jimin, how he overcame the harsh trainee life, it was Jimin, who influenced him the most, it was Jimin, who was easiest to talk to, it was Jimin, who his heart connected to, it was Jimin. Plus he has attributed his ability to be kind and thoughtful to Jimin several times. Just by looking at this two, you can see what i mean when i say i don’t think Taekook ever had that much of an emotional connection.

Let’s look at another example. The deepest things Jk has ever said about Tae is that Tae helped him break out out of his shy shell. He has also called Tae innocent and said he liked tae’s innocence. Other than this, you would mostly only ever hear Jk commenting on or praising Tae’s looks. Let’s use Jimin as an example again. Jk has spoken about Jimin’s personality, his kindness, how caring he is, how hardworking he is. Jk was asked to describe Jimin’s charm and he said it was his thoughtfulness and how considerate he is of others. Jk gets praised for being kind and thoughtful towards the manager and his first thought is to attribute it to Jimin. Jk sits on a show and talks about how much he admires Jimin’s zeal and drive and how hardworking he is. Jk talks about how beautiful Jimin’s personality is and how nice he is. When Jk talks about Jimin, he talks about who jimin is and not what he is. Now don’t get me wrong. You look around and you can find clips of Jk complimenting other members but not the same way he does Jimin. When Jk talks about Namjoon, you get the sense that he really admires him and sees him as a mentor of sorts but when he talks about Jimin, you literally feel just how much he knows Jimin and connects with him on a deeper level. It is not the same with Tae in my opinion. The highest thing one would learn about Tae after listening to Jk talk about him is that he is handsome. Jk rarely ( not never) , talks about anything else.

The way i see taekook now, they are two friends who enjoy spending time with each other doing something fun. I think they those types of friends who always need a reason to hang out and hanging out is probably more fun for them with other people around. I don’t see Jk just going to sit in Taehyung’s room for hours doing nothing. I see Taekook spending hours, even days together when they have something to keep them occupied. That thing gets taken away and they don’t feel the need to be around each other much. They are in my opinion, typical guy friends. I think they really enjoy talking about music and songs. I think they recommend alot of songs to each other too, i think they enjoy doing outdoor activities together and attending concerts together too. Jk did say it is fun when he is with Taehyung so i think one of the greatest things that bonds them together is the fun. This would explain why somethings began to get awkward with them when they started spending more time apart and Tae starting becoming quieter. I think Tae’s quirky and fun personality is one lf the things jk really likes about him and one of the ways they relate to each other the most. Take that away and these two will still have alot of love for each other but will probably not feel the need to be together much.

Watching their Vlive from May 2020 and the Vminkook Vlive from November 2021 explained so many things about Taekook’s dynamic as adults. When taekook were younger, putting them together was guaranteed fun but now as adults, it feels like they barely have anything to talk to each other about if they are not doing some activity. Think of their instagram Live from February 2023. Taekookers watched that Live and saw two lovers being all shy and giggly but i saw two people who didn’t know what to say to each other so sat in awkward silence. It’s not like i expected them to start discussing family secrets on Live but the conversation just doesn’t flow as you would expect. I think this is partly because they have never been used to just sitting and having conversations or getting to know each other on a deeper level. They both don’t seem like people who are good at conversations so gaming and goofing around or going out to have fun always the place of just sitting and talking. They also don’t seem to rely on each other for emotional support. I cannot recall a single time i ever saw Jk seek Tae out when he needed emotional support. This ofcourse doesn’t mean they don’t care about each other. Jungkook hugging and comforting Tae during MAMA 2018 was proof that Jk hurts when Tae hurts but that isn’t exclusive to Tae. He hurts when all his members hurt and he made that clear in his song “begin”. You just never see him or hear him talking about depending on Tae for emotional support the way he has mentioned needing it from Jimin.

Jimin and Jungkook on the other hand seem like they actually converse with each other. I can think of that moment in BV when Jungkook was telling Jimin about his day and how sand fleas got stuck under his shoes and Jimin just listened attentively. Or in the documentary when Jimin talked to Jungkook about how his friend said he thought Jimin was depressed and Jk just listened. These are such simple moments but they tell so much about Jikook’s dynamic. Jk isn’t much of a talker so seeing him actively telling Jimin about his day and about the sand fleas that got stuck under his shoes showed how much Jimin had created a space where Jk felt comfortable enough to just talk about even the little things like sand fleas. I don’t think i have ever seen taekook like that.

I also think Tae might kinda see Jungkook as the closest thing he has to a sibling. I remember Tae saying that he isn’t close to his siblings and they only speak to each other a few times a year so it is possible that Jungkook feels and has always felt like a sibling to him. Maybe he is having the kinda close relationship he always wanted to have with his siblings, with Jungkook.

So in a nutshell, Taekook are two besties who love and care about each other and are also very comfortable being affectionate with each other but unfortunately, the softness and physical affection that has always been present in their dynamic gets mistaken for romance.

I think this is the best way i can describe the way i perceive taekook’s relationship based on their words and actions.

Hope this answered your question anon💜

#Jungkook #jimin #jikook #my asks #jikook blog #taekook #taehyung

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wh0rrorb4by · 24 hours

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big brother - kuroo

tw: stepcest but take it however u want lol, naive reader, virginity loss, dubcon(?), umm i need big bro kuroo in my life

18+

ugh. thinking about kuroo as your older (step) bro and how annoying he’d be. constantly making fun of your height, eating the last of everything in the house (even when you wrote your name on it!), hogging the bathroom in the morning or waltzing in while you’re either in the shower or only half-dressed. he literally has no boundaries with you!

he reads your diary and holds it over your head when you demand he give it back, making you jump and paw at him for it. and if you don’t give him a kiss on the cheek he’ll read it. it’s so embarrassing! he doesn’t need to know about your fantasies, or how it makes you giddy when his friend bokuto playfully puts his arm around you and calls you affectionate nicknames — especially baby sis. God, kuroo never let you live that one down. you thought your face was going to catch on fire when he pinched your cheeks and asked if you got excited when he called you that, too. it was humiliating, and you swore he placed a ban on bokuto coming within 20 feet of you after that.

he’s such a clingy big brother, too. always hugging and grabbing at you, making you sit on his lap so he can squeeze you, holding you down and tickling you until you’re squirming and squealing — and he won’t stop that unless you give him a kiss on the lips. it’s so annoying. and he’s always coming into your room in the middle of the night to “check on you,” but really it’s just so he can crash in your bed and keep you close to him all night. he caught you by surprise the first time he did it, walking in to see you whining and humping your pillow like you were in heat. you’d never been so embarrassed in your entire life. you started crying, thinking he was going to tease you like he always does, but he only let out a breathy chuckle and told you it was okay, that it was normal. he even told you that it was hot, that guys love little virgins who get themselves off so cutely, and asked why you even bothered with a pillow when he was just across the hall.

that’s when you started to realize that even though he’s annoying, he really is a nice big brother. you couldn’t imagine any other brother letting his little sister tag along with him to everything, or letting you cry in his arms when you were all worked up and just couldn’t cum on your own. it broke his heart when you told him you think you’re just defective, that you’ll never be able to please a guy if you can’t even please yourself. you guessed he just felt bad for you when you cried, that he really had a soft spot for his little sister, because he offered to teach you how to touch yourself. you were grateful to have such a smart big brother, too, because after just looking at your hands he found that the problem was that your fingers are just too small! you need big, long fingers to really make you feel good. better yet, you need a long, thick cock to really give you a good orgasm — and who better to guide you through your first time than your big brother, who’d taken care of you your whole life? you were nervous to accept at first, but he eased your little mind by telling you that only bad brothers leave their baby sisters all needy and empty and insecure about still being a virgin, and besides, he’d take better care of you than anyone else could. and he was so right — you were shaking and whining and cumming all over your sheets by the time he bottomed out inside you and taught you the proper way to rub your little clit. kissing with tongue really helped you get more into it, too.

by the time he fucked you open enough to really start thrusting, you were all dizzy and dumb and wondering why you didn’t come to him earlier. and when he was whispering praise in your ear and sucking marks into your neck and filling you up with his warm cum, all you could think about was how grateful you were to have such a good big brother.

#wh0rrorb4by #kuroo smut #kuroo x reader #kuroo tetsurou #dark content #stepcest #kuroo stepcest #haikyuu smut #haikyuu noncon #haikyuu dubcon #kuroo noncon #kuroo dubcon

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myokk · 2 days

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fast sketch of my one-shot with Ominis💓

legilimency

Word count: 1.700

Rating: M (language)

Ominis Gaunt is a lost case - lost to the whims of one very determined Gryffindor sitting at his side.

They sit in the back of the History of Magic classroom, the only two students not lulled to somnolence by their professor. He: trying his hardest to focus on Professor Binns’ droning (easier said than done). She: trying her hardest to distract Ominis while not being entirely sure of being successful or not (easier attempted than understood).

Professor Binns is completely insufferable, of course. Ominis wonders if the ghost is as blind as he is: Binns willfully ignores the fact that all of his students use his class as an excuse to get a nap in (maybe he simply doesn’t see them sleeping - only one of many reasons why Ominis has decided he could never be a professor), rambling on and on in the most boring way possible. As if he were trying to be as dull as possible (maybe he does it to avoid interacting with the students which…can’t be to blame). In a different life, Ominis could see himself quite liking the subject, but as things stand he despises it.

Especially now.

Ominis fervently wishes that he could fall asleep.

Then, he might avoid hearing her thoughts - they’re consuming him and he can’t ignore them as much as he would like to.

Normally, he loves this class - not the subject, obviously - but the class itself, for the sheer fact that it is the only time where he gets some peace and quiet. Everyone’s minds nice and quiet and shut off for the time being while they sleep. Although he has gotten used to ignoring the thoughts of everyone around him, their various voices mixing and mingling with each other into a dull thrum in the back of his mind, it is nice to have some quiet once in a while.

But right now, with everyone asleep except for the Gryffindor at his side, her thoughts are so loud it’s like she’s screaming at him.

So here he is, wishing he could fall asleep, leave the class, maybe turn off the infernal legilimency that has haunted him his whole life.

(His parents and Marvolo insist it’s a gift handed down from Slytherin himself, just like the Parseltongue Ominis despises. It is not. It is a curse.)

He is stuck listening to her.

It doesn’t help that she seems to have caught on to him - something he had managed to avoid until now. Nobody else, not even Sebastian or Anne, has ever suspected a thing. But, in all fairness, those two are extremely loud and say every single thought that passes through their minds out loud even when they should remain quiet, and nobody else has had the opportunity to spend enough time with Ominis to begin to suspect anything.

Until her.

He had to go and let that blasted girl worm her way into his life, not leaving him alone ever, always looking for excuses to talk and ask his opinion, and being so intelligent that he wanted to invite her to study with him and talk with him and…

Since it happened a few nights ago, he hasn’t stopped cursing himself for that stupid offhand comment he made. They had been studying in silence in the library together, by the history books where nobody else ever ventures (thank you, Professor Binns), and he could have sworn that she asked him if he was finally going to walk her back to her common room (he blames a lack of sleep and wishful thinking for this mishap). His traitorous face had flushed and he had jumped at the chance to escort her - maybe she would let him carry her bag, or… - only to feel his whole body go cold and his stomach drop when her response wasn’t what he’d expected.

A pause: then: a confused voice: ‘Ominis, I didn’t say anything.’

His Gryffindor wasn’t stupid like Gryffindors were normally wont to be. He knew her, and he knew that after his monumental mistake, the gears in her brain were turning and he was terrified that somehow she had figured it out.

(His Gryffindor?)

She had been unusually quiet around him since then, although he bitterly noticed that she was still acting normally with everyone else. Still finding every opportunity to punch Sebastian in the shoulder and laugh with Anne, still whispering with Natsai about Merlin knows what, still…

But she had been avoiding Ominis. He couldn’t stand it.

Well, avoiding him right until this stupid class, when she had to go and sit right next to him (ignoring the fact that she always sits next to him in History of Magic, that everyone already has and adheres to their unofficial seats), and he can’t ignore her.

She’s pretending to take studious notes, but he knows better. The scratching of her quill blending with the droning of Professor Binns’ voice but not drowning out her thoughts. They float above the other noises, her voice sweet and piercing. Ominis wonders vaguely what she’s actually writing, because he’s positive it isn’t notes.

Professor Binns looks so sexy right now with his medieval hat, talking about…whatever it is he’s passionate about. I wonder if he would let me talk to him after class without floating through me like he normally does…

Ominis is determined not to react. She’s obviously trying to bait him. But…what if she is attracted to Professor Binns? Is he an attractive man? At the thought, the fist that’s resting on top of his desk clenches, but he works to make sure his face remains impassive. Apart from a twitch of his lips, he thinks he’s been quite successful.

She: huffing and shifting in her chair, her robes rustling as she crosses her legs. He: keeping his head facing forward, steadfastly ignoring her.

She changes tactics.

Maybe she’s just as insufferable as the other Gryffindors, after all.

I wonder what Ominis would say if he knew I woke up moaning today after a dream about him -

He shifts slightly in his seat, hoping that she’s so busy taking notes (who’s he kidding) that she won’t notice his discomfort as his trousers tighten -

…the girls in my dorm have been bothering me nonstop about who I’ve been mooning over but I don’t want them to…

His hand is in such a tight fist it’s a wonder he’s not breaking any fingers as he tries to remain as still as possible, but his traitorous arousal is making her thoughts harder and harder to ignore. Had he ever been able to ignore her?

…his tongue was deep inside me as I screamed his name…

He feels his face heat up at the thought - where had she learned such vulgar language? - and his whole body stiffens. He’s sure that she can feel the tension and warmth radiating off of him in waves but that…she…his insane little lion keeps shouting at him in the silence of the classroom. She’s now stopped all pretense of taking notes and is sitting stock still.

…his cock deep inside of me as…wait…what else did I hear Garreth say to Leander that night?…um… She shifts uncomfortably, her knee grazing Ominis’s as she moves to squeeze her legs together. It’s all he can do to not groan and remain impassive. Oh god…I…what’s that feeling? This was just supposed to get back at him for probably - maybe - reading my thoughts and I’m officially insane because how would he even be able to do that?…his ears turning red from embarrassment are so adorable and I can’t stand this anymore and…

Ominis tries his hardest not to move his head in her direction. His jaw flexes. Maybe he can drown her out if he starts reciting potions ingredients, or if he focuses on what Professor Binns is saying, but even he knows its futile. He’s hanging on to her every word - thought? - and his head slowly turns in her direction as she keeps going.

…does he know how much I think about him? Oh god, what if he dreams of me the same way I…

He slams the open book in front of him shut, the loud noise causing Sebastian to jerk awake and babble incoherently for a moment before slumping back over his desk, drooling and snoring lightly. Nobody else in the class seems to notice except her of course. Blissfully, she has stopped talking - thinking - and he can finally -

It’s no use. He needs to get out of there. She has invaded his mind and…What if she starts up again with her filthy thoughts that are bleeding into his own and -

Did he hear me? I didn’t actually think…oh god, can he hear me now? What have I done?

Ominis very slowly brings his hand over to where he knows hers is. The quill falls out of her hand and he hears a sharp intake of breath at their contact. His fingers trace her knuckles and then he slowly trails them up her arm. His fingertips are so sensitive that he could swear that he feels every thread that he passes, her skin warm and alive underneath the fabric. Then to her neck, her throat bobs and he feels her erratic heartbeat. Finally, he reaches her face. She remains very, very still as his fingers brush over her features for the first time.

He has never touched someone like this before.

Her skin is like velvet, soft everywhere he touches. Now that he knows what it feels like he’s not sure he can go back to before. His fingers trace the curve of her eyebrows - he finds that her nose is straight before it flares up a tiny bit at the tip - his fingers ghost over her impossibly soft lips. He drags his thumb across her bottom lip as her tongue darts out to wet them. It’s impossibly intimate and the world has melted away and it’s just the two of them in that moment.

He leans forward.

“Ominis, I…” she whispers, stricken.

His hand moves to tuck some of her loose hair away from her face - does she always wear it like this? - and his lips brush against her ear. He inhales deeply, her sweet smell invading his senses. She shivers under his touch and he breathes, “I heard everything.”

#bahahahahahahahah I need to practice drawing Ominis MORE👹#he is just SO DIFFICULT IDK WHAT IT IS😔🙏#anyways I LOVE writing his POV!!!! & I hope I did him justice🙏#I haven’t really read any HL fanfic ever & nothing from Ominis so idk how people normally think of him #but this is my version😇😇#hope you all have/are having a good weekend!!#spent yesterday at the beach with my niece/nephew (3&8) and we built intricate sandcastles for our hermit crab army #then played board games all afternoon #& today my friend visits from 11am to 8pm and we are going to yap all day💓💓🙏🙏#should I post more of my writing????? tbh I started writing before these fan arts😅#hogwarts legacy #hogwarts legacy fanart #hphl #hogwarts legacy mc #hogwarts legacy oc #Ominis gaunt #ominis gaunt fanfiction #ominis gaunt fanart #hogwarts legacy fanfic #this is an unnamed mc as of now but since she is also goi g to be in the longer fic I write I need to think of one #I’m open to suggestions!!!!! I was thinking Rosie🥹 but IDK #ominis gaunt x mc

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padfootagain · 2 days

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Only an Almost (XX)

Chapter 20: Toothaches

Hi! Here is the very last chapter of this series!

Thank you all for reading, and for your reactions to this fic. I won’t lie, I’m very emotional as I say goodbye to this fic. I’ve worked on it for several months, it feels strange to let these two idiots go and live their happy lives now.

The next series I’ll post is my professor!AU, so stay tuned ;)

I hope you’ll like this chapter! Please, tell me what you think!

*************************************

Pairing: Hozier x fem!reader, friends with benefits AU

Warning: No explicit smut or nsfw content, but there are sexual themes and heavy make-out sessions (it’s a friends with benefits AU, I can’t really escape it), so 18+ only!

Summary: Andrew has been in love with you for years, and yet he has never confessed his feelings. But a night out celebrating the engagement of his best friend changes everything. However, you don't seem ready to be with him just yet. You make him an offer that he can't refuse... but will certainly regret.

Word Count : 2054

Masterlist for the series – Hozier’s Masterlist – Main Masterlist

Two years later

You placed back the panel into the hive; gently, delicately, being careful not to harm any insect that might have gotten in the way.

The buzzing sounds around you were loud, but you were used to them by now. Accompanying Andrew once a week to take care of his bees, you had grown more confident around his tiny friends. You were a real pro now. A reassuring thought for him, now that he was about to tour again. He could place their safety in your loving hands.

“Alright, that was the last one,” Andrew spoke, a happy smile on his lips.

“Good job, ladies,” you complimented the bees, making Andrew chuckle fondly at you.

“Good job indeed. And to you, too. Good job, love.”

“Thanks! I am getting good at this!”

Andrew closed the hive, and you both made your way back to your house.

Your house. Andrew still struggled to wrap his mind around the idea that you were sharing a home now, but you did. Even after ten months, he still needed to pinch himself sometimes to believe it.

He helped you out of your beekeeping clothes, and you did the same for him. Teamwork at its finest to repeat movements you were both used to by now.

“You won’t be nervous to take care of the bees alone?” Andrew asked you, voice soft and tender as he brushed a strand of your hair out of your face.

“No, don’t worry! Besides, if I need help, I’ll just call the guys at the brewery!”

“Right. Don’t hesitate to call them if you need help.”

“Don’t worry, baby… I’ll be just fine.”

He nodded, his heart doing its usual little jump at the sound of the pet name. He bent down to drop a peck on the top of your head.

“Let’s eat some of this delicious honey our tiny workers have been making!” he offered, and you enthusiastically nodded, following him through the house and inside the kitchen.

The house had changed quite a bit since you had moved in. Asides from accommodating your belongings, it had gained a few plants, some decorating items, a little bit of your warmth that mingled with his own.

Outside the sun was shining brightly, spreading its beams through the kitchen, while Andrew was cutting some fruits and you were making coffee. You kissed his lips to steal a piece of apple, making him laugh at the mischief shining in your eyes.

“Thief,” he mumbled, still a little stunned after feeling your lips on his.

You merely giggled in response, the sound as sweet as the honey he was adding to the two bowls of fresh fruits.

“I love you too, baby,” you cooed, wrapping your arms around his waist to pull him closer, mischief written all over your features.

“You’re annoying.”

“Don’t I know that already.”

“Unbelievable, that’s what you are…”

“Hmm… Don’t I know that too…”

Slowly, Andrew bent closer and closer to your lips. A fall he longed for, a dive he dreamt about still.

“Insufferable…” he mumbled against your lips, before kissing you properly, hands rising to hold your face in place, to let his fingers disappear into your hair and his thumbs spray across your cheeks.

You tasted so sweet; like the apple you had stolen, like love turned into a flavour.

“Christ… I love you so fucking much,” he whispered as he rested his forehead against yours.

He brushed his knuckles across your cheekbone, gesture infinitely sweet, desperately tender.

You ran your fingers through his hair, and he couldn’t help but lean into your touch.

“I love you too, Andy,” you whispered, your breath fanning over his face. “I love you more than anything.”

He bent lower to wrap you in his embrace, to bury his face into your neck. He inhaled deeply your perfume, until the scent was carved into his lungs. He closed his eyes, shivered as your hand slowly moved from his hair to his chest, to rest right upon his heart.

“I’m going to miss you,” he whispered into your skin.

He listened to the little gasp you let out, he wasn’t certain whether it was because of his breath across your neck or the meaning of his words.

“I’ll miss you too. God… it feels like I miss you already.”

You pulled away, after granting him another minute of the intimate embrace. You turned to the table, grabbed a bowl and a spoon, took a bite. You hummed in satisfaction.

“Our honey really is the best in the world,” you nodded, making him laugh.

“Our honey? These are my hives. That my family gifted to me…”

“We both take care of the bees! It gives me some rights on them!”

“Some rights?”

“I get 51% of the honey.”

“So… the majority of it. Even if those are my hives…”

“Because you love me.”

“Oh, I see,” he couldn’t refrain a loud laugh.

“I’m sleeping with you for two reasons: the honey, and Raine.”

“I knew it. I knew you were using me for something.”

“Of course, I’m heartless.”

“Can’t blame you though… the honey is delicious,” he added a hum of approval, as if to prove his point, while he took another bite of grapes, apples and honey.

You finished eating in silence. It was comfortable, comforting even. Warm and happy and full of love. You sat down after a couple of minutes, and your feet were touching under the table, a mingling of limbs just to make sure that you were always touching.

It was simple, domestic. Andrew caught himself staring at you, at the way the sun embraced your features and got caught in your eyelashes, pearling on their curve.

There was a deep, warm feeling bubbling in his chest, the kind he had felt before, for other women. But never to this extent, never reaching this absolute tenderness that was coursing through his veins as he looked at you. You, sharing a simple snack with him, in his kitchen. You weren’t leaving, you were home. You were his home and he was yours.

As he stared at you nipping on a grape, he was more content with his life than he had ever been.

You started humming, the melody of a song you had heard on the radio that morning, he couldn’t remember the title nor the lyrics. Still, he hummed along, and the sound seemed to make you grin.

“On a scale of ‘being happy to finally be rid of me’ to ‘on the verge of total panic’… how are you feeling about me leaving for tour tomorrow?” Andrew asked softly, his voice almost a whisper, afraid to break the warmth of the moment you were sharing together.

You blinked at him, put down your spoon in your bowl, and reached out across the table for his hand. He held it without a second thought, brushing his thumb across your knuckles.

“I’d say… a strong 5. ‘Sad that you’re leaving, but certain that we’ll make it work’.”

You offered him a reassuring smile, and he let out a long exhale.

“Are you angry against me for leaving?” he asked, but you were quick to shake your head.

“Of course not… that’s your job. And you were meant to be a musician, there is no doubt about it. I’m glad you’re doing what you love… I’ll just miss you.”

“You’ll wait for me, right?” he asked, voice quiet and vulnerable. He brushed his hair away from his face in a hurried and nervous gesture.

But you were calm, perfectly confident and serene as you answered.

“Of course. There is no need to ask that question. We’ve talked about this, we have a plan. We’ll be fine.”

The plan…

A call every day, no matter the time difference. A flight to join him in four weeks, a flight to join you again in nine. Texts whenever you woke up and before going to sleep. Updates on your books. No secrets, no lies, no attempts to hide if something didn’t feel right. And then it would start all over again after his two-weeks break, in eleven weeks. And again, and again, an unbreakable cycle for the foreseeable future. It was alright. Andrew knew he would still love you the same, even from the other side of the globe. But that was the breaking point for all his previous relationships, the distance and the missing and the loneliness that came with him.

And yet, when you tightened your hold on his hand and he focused on your eyes again, there was no trace of hesitation or doubt whatsoever there.

“You didn’t want to date me because of this, at the beginning…” he went on, but you shrugged.

“It was two years ago. I was afraid. I’m not scared anymore.”

“Really?” he asked, raising an eyebrow in surprise.

“No… I’m happy with you. I love you. I know we can do this. I have no doubt about us.”

His lips parted in a somehow shocked smile, and he had to blink to process your words.

“I have no doubt about my love for you either,” Andrew answered. “You’re right, I shouldn’t worry so much.”

You looked down at the bowl before you, it was almost empty already.

“I will burn your collection of Heaney’s books if you miss more than three phone calls, you are warned,” you joked, making him laugh again.

“How cruel! Leave Seamus out of it! He did nothing to you!”

“I don’t have a choice, I know you love him more than me!”

You were laughing, clearly joking, and yet Andrew’s expression softened.

“Now, that would be impossible. I couldn’t love anyone or anything more than I love you.”

You stared at him with an emotional smile on your lips, knowing that he was being serious, that he truly meant it… and he did. The songs he had written for you were proof. He hoped that the things he did for you every day were enough to demonstrate his feelings too.

He was surprised when you stood up, when you circled the table to stand by his side, waiting until he had pushed his chair so you could straddle his laps. You held him tightly against you, arms around his neck and face buried in his hair. He held you with the same affection, the same desperate need to show you how much he loved you.

“You don’t have to worry, Andy. I’ll wait for you,” you whispered in his ear, making his heart stumble and quicken at the same time, his breath catching in his throat. “You’re the love of my life. I want to spend all the time I have left with you.”

Andrew blinked, tightened his hold on you, tried to take in your words and their meaning and what it meant to have you confessing such feelings for him.

You pulled away as he started laughing, still sitting on his laps but frowning at his reaction.

When he looked at you, he wasn’t hiding the adoration he felt for you.

“And I was afraid I was being too cheesy…” he chuckled, making you roll your eyes.

“Eejit…” you mumbled, a fond smile on your lips still.

“I thought I was the one breaking the crazy love confessions quota in this relationship…”

“Don’t make me regret saying it!” you joked, moving closer again.

He brushed a strand of your hair behind your ear, putting all of his love in his gaze and his gesture.

“I feel the same, you know?” he grew more serious again. “You’re the one for me. It was always you, my love.”

You smiled just like he did, a mirror of emotions and love and something close to relief. You rested your forehead against his, closed your eyes.

Andrew thought about the break he would have in nine weeks, about coming home to you. He thought about the next leg of touring, and the break that would follow. And he thought about coming home to you with a ring in his suitcase, and he thought about you in a white dress, about waking up with you every day, going to sleep with your hand in his every night…

When he kissed your lips again, they tasted sweet, like the future they promised.

#hozier #andrew hozier byrne #the hoziest #hozier x reader #hozier x you #hozier x y/n #fanfiction #fanfic #hozier fanfiction #hozier fanfic #writing #hozier series #series

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rottiens · 2 days

Note

i’m still in love with your name btw. now please, what specific thoughts about cult leader suguru are plaguing your mind ?? still gripping ur hand tightly <3

✮ tags. . (18+), canon au, suguru x non sorceress reader, power imbalance, fem reader, reader has hair long enough to tie it, spit kink, praising (good girl), masturbation (m), dirty talk, mentions of shoe humping, embarrassingly self indulgent (as always), situationship. divider creds: cafekitsune.

✮ notes . . sosa, my angel, thank you so much for being so cute, your name has always seemed to me unique and very pretty, thank you for letting me talk about my lil ideas ! <3 and sorry for the delay jsjs I had to organize my thoughts (plus when I posted that I was at a party... I just couldn't write this while everyone was dancing, I had to pretend to be normal lol anyways! :3)

✮ wc. . 1.5K

Suguru is someone… reserved.

If you had to choose just one word to describe him it would probably be that, in the months you've been involved in this strange dynamic that you can't define as a friendship or even a relationship, you've realized that you know very little about him.

You know his name, you know his age, you know he's someone of few words, that he doesn't like to talk about his past/childhood or his family in general now that you think about it. Everything you know about Suguru is because he has allowed you to know it, like breadcrumbs that he slowly drops along the way, or like loose pieces of a puzzle that you must organize yourself without his help.

You know more about the things he doesn't like to talk about than the things he likes to talk about or the things that make him the way he is, which makes you realize —as you trace his back and join his moles with your fingertips— that he knows too much about you: where you study, where you work, your friends, your parents, he's petted your pets, he's seen the pictures you have hanging on your walls, the little you clutching her mother's hand while looking straight ahead with a feigned smile. He knows so much about you and is so involved in your private life while you've only skimmed the surface of who Suguru Geto is, that the idea terrifies you in a way. There's another part of you that prefers not to think about it, after all, Suguru is nothing more than a medium through which to let out your repressed desires.

It's just like smoking a cigarette once a week, a bad habit that you can quit. It's just a casual thing. I can stop seeing him whenever I want, you repeat to your friends who have warned you so many times about the guy you keep so mysteriously, the one of whom you only have a couple of pictures saved on your phone.

Despite repeating that you can stop seeing him whenever you feel like it and so decide, somehow you find yourself always opening the door when he knocks, always agreeing to see him on his terms, always crawling on the floor, scraping your knees when he asks and ending up kissing the soles of his shoes when he commands it.

"Good girl," Suguru looks at you adoringly, or so you want to believe.

His hazel eyes are flecked with a darkness that makes the bare skin on your back bristle, you rock in the awkward position you're in to stand straighter and get a better look at his face, the red ropes that hold your hands still on top of your thighs, perfectly intertwined, burn and bite into your skin every time you try to struggle.

Suguru wears his long hair tied in a bun for comfort and except for you, he is fully clothed.

His fingers slip along your jaw bone and you shiver at the touch, your eyelids yielding to the loving caress that comes cold with affection and full of desire. With the darkness that your closed eyes immerse you in you allow yourself to feel the electric touch of his hands tracing your chin, gently running behind your ears until he gathers your hair into a bun with one hand and gently tugging pulls your head back.

"Look at me." His breath hits your mouth.

Embarrassment and desire compete to take over your chest, dancing to the beat of the drums that are your heartbeat, debating whether you should feel self-conscious about the nudity he has so often contemplated before or if on the other hand, you should feel aroused by the difference in positions between you.

Suguru cups your cheeks with two fingers of his free hand and you, submissive to the event you have experienced so many times before, open your mouth without needing a command. He spits, you hold it in your mouth until he tells you to swallow. Suguru, smiles close to your lips, proud of how well he has managed to train you over these months.

"That's a good girl," he praises you again, originating wave after wave of heat in your insides.

Her touch is warm as it trails down your neck, eyes darting with his fingertips touching your throat and down to your collarbones, eyelashes fluttering and the beginnings of a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. Suguru pinches one nipple, then the other and, leaving you with pleading lamb eyes and a torch in your belly he rises above your kneeling position and stands in front of you.

When he does that, pretending to be at the same height as you, you can often come to forget how scary his actual size is, how big his shoulders and back hide part of the view behind him. The zipper noise startles you, makes you look, not at him, but to look for the source of the sound.

Fingers like spiders hook into the zipper, pull it down and help him take out his erect cock that poses hard in front of your face. Suguru steps forward, you lick your lips with a restless heart and sticky thighs.

"So you said you needed me…" you want to speak, but with a mouth full of his saliva you can only shake your head showing him that what he said was true.

He was referring to that text message, you remember, watching him wrap a tight fist around his cock. It had been a long day, a stressful day, you didn't want to talk so the first person you thought of was him, your "friend with benefits", you didn't know if you could even call him that, the one thing you are sure about Suguru is that he is always going to make you cum hard and he is exactly what you need right now.

Only, seeing him walk through the same door of your apartment that he has walked through so many times and go straight to the bedroom, this was not what you had in mind when he knelt you down in front of him, ending up looking up at him from below was not the idea you had when you texted him how much you needed him.

He takes your chin between his index finger and thumb and your lips part, you can almost savor the all too familiar taste of his precum now only inches away from you.

"Always so obedient." Suguru squeezes his cock and a pearly drop slides from the head onto your neatly bent thighs, despite your efforts to lean in to lick it off. "You were so needy that you forgot the rules?"

Oh, the rules. You look up at him with naive eyes, batting your eyelashes begging him to believe in your innocence. You're supposed to expect him to be the one to text you first, always, you came to think that maybe it was because he had a girlfriend or boyfriend, that maybe he didn't want them to read your messages but the idea remains a mystery just like everything around him.

Suguru places his hand in front of your mouth and you spit, returning his own saliva mixed with yours and he promptly takes the drool dribbling from his hand around the length using it as a lube.

"You wish this was your pussy, huh?" he is fucking his hand so precisely, deep and at a pace that he would have your legs closing around his thighs. His hips play along with his hand, rocking back and forth in pursuit of his own pleasure.

"Yes." The word slips so softly out of you.

You see him restrain himself from grinning and decides instead to roll his thumb over your lip, showing him your teeth. The hand urges itself to go faster. His short, hoarse moans bounce between the walls and have the puddle in your pussy spilling over to your thighs; your clit throbbing for just a little attention, in situation like these there is nothing that would please you more than him letting you grind at least against his shoe.

His brow furrows and he bites his lip.

"Suguru, please…"

"Uhm no, open your mouth," he orders you, milking the tip of his cock between your parted lips. The heat and closeness is almost unbearable, you want to lean in and suck even though his next punishment would be much worse.. however you manage to control your urges and let him jerk off over your face, his moans turning into grunts, his lips pursed and his full balls gently twitching from the sudden movement.

It takes maybe ten seconds or so before you feel him dripping in your mouth, on your tongue, spurts of cum that has your naked body quivering with need.

"Don't swallow it. Get on the bed." Suguru instructs you, leaning down to brush his nose against yours and leave a fleeting kiss on your forehead.

Now, he was really going to take what was his.

Now, he was going to eat your pussy and see how hard you could resist not choking while he did it with his cum in your mouth.

#asks #lovers ₊˚ᰔ #wr #please don't let go of my hand...#this man takes over my thoughts #and the only thing I want is for him to jerk off on my face u.u #i really did this to myself didn’t i #geto x reader #geto smut #geto suguru x reader #geto suguru smut #jjk smut #jjk x reader

90 notes · View notes

turtletaubwrites · 3 days

Text

Numbers Game ~ Part 26

Pairings: Cross Guild x Fem!Reader x Shanks

Numbers Game Masterlist

Word Count: 7279

Ao3 Link

Ongoing Series Playlist: Youtube Music Link | Youtube Link

Extras: Author's Vision of the Party Attire ~ Reader ~ The Boys

Summary: Buggy and Shanks have one more talk before the show, and their memories haunt them both as the big finale stuns the crowd.

Author's Note: !!! EXTRA SPOILER WARNING !!! I'm so sorry! I'm not usually a manga reader, and haven't started to tackle One Piece yet, so I didn't realize that I've been working off of a manga spoiler that I got spoiled on last year while doing Buggy research. It's a very brief flashback from chapter 1082 that reveals the end the argument that Buggy and Shanks had after Roger's execution that we see just a glimpse of back when Shanks met with Whitebeard after Enies Lobby. I've written my own version of that flashback in the first scene. That's not the main thing that caused the rift between them in my story, so you are free to skip over it if you like, and there is plenty more Shuggy content for you in this chapter. I feel like this detail can be inferred from the anime event that I already warn for at the end of the Wano arc, but if you'd like to avoid that specific scene, please skip the first section! It's bracketed with these symbols: ~~~⏰🤡🔴⏰~~~

Alternate POV Symbols:

!!! SPOILER WARNING !!! Fic contains spoilers for the end of the Wano arc

Rating/Warnings: Author May Choose to Exclude some Warnings to Avoid Spoilers for Certain Chapters, Explicit Sexual Content, 18+ ONLY, MDNI, AFAB!Reader, She/Her Pronouns for Reader, Reader-Insert, Use of Y/N, Dark Content, Blood & Violence, PTSD, Panic Attacks, Dissociation, Grief, Swearing, Alcohol, Cigars, Smut, Fluff, Angst, Guilt, Drama, Jealousy, Manipulation, Pet Names, Power Imbalance, Cross Guild boys are VILLAINS, Possessive Behavior, Teasing, Threats, Death of a Minor Character, Flirting, Arguments, Blowjobs, Relationship Drama, Inappropriate Use of Akuma no Mi | Devil Fruit Powers, Shameless Shameless Smut, Other Additional Tags to Be Added

~~~⏰🔴🤡⏰~~~

Rain.

What a strange feeling.

How long has it been raining?

Has his blood been washed away already?

Buggy paced back and forth through the alley, waiting for his friend, his rival, to show up. Roger’s declaration had sent chaos through the city. Loguetown’s guards were circling, trying desperately to catch every witness before the new age could begin.

Nothing can stop Roger’s dream. Not even death.

Buggy choked on his almost optimistic thought. He couldn’t understand this new reality.

He needed to see Shanks.

~~~

Shanks couldn’t think in words, his tears too heavy for even the rain to wash away.

Roger.

The weight of grief and pressure would have paralyzed him, if not for his instincts to survive. The red haired boy flew through the town, his body running from the death of a man that meant family, searching for a blue haired boy that meant home.

~~~

“Shanks, you dumbass,” Buggy scolded, eyes scanning over his friend’s pale face. “What took you so long? It’s not safe–”

“I’m here,” he whispered, pulling Buggy in for a hug. Buggy shook him off to grab him by the shoulders, ignoring the rain that still poured over them both.

“Well, let’s hurry up,” the clown tried to sound positive, trying to push through the pain of losing the man that raised him. He needed to cheer Shanks up, to see his friend shining again. “You made Roger a promise, remember? You’re gonna get a ship, and we’ll go find the One Piece on our own. So let’s go!”

I can’t do it.

“I’ve changed my mind,” Shanks grimaced, trying to stay steady. Trying not to fall apart. “I don’t feel like trying to get there now. But I’ll still be a pirate.”

Buggy stared. He couldn’t be hearing this. Not from Shanks.

I thought he was gonna be the next king. That’s what Roger wanted, wasn't it? Shanks wouldn’t say this.

The boy in the straw hat couldn’t take the look on his friend's face.

I can’t, Buggy. Please, just…

“Come with me, Buggy!”

Everything cracked. Every vision of the future that Buggy had decided he wanted. Every shining image of Shanks that made him believe, made him trust.

You’re not who I thought you were, Shanks.

“I’m not gonna work under you, idiot!! You– you COWARD!!”

Shanks broke, yet again. He couldn’t take it. Couldn’t lose everything all at once. He couldn’t speak while Buggy used an old accident against him, leaving him with shame and loneliness that he didn’t know what to do with.

I believed in you, Shanks.

“Don’t tell me you’ve forgotten that you lost my treasure map? And I can’t swim because of you! It’s your fault I can’t…” Buggy croaked out, covering his true pain with the only thing he could think of that would get him away from this liar. This false idol. This person that he’d poured all of his own dreams into. “Well, I haven’t forgiven you, Shanks! So until the next time we meet…”

The rain fell harder, as though nature were trying to drown out this moment before it could ruin their lives.

But it was too late.

“We’re enemies!!”

~~~⏰🔴🤡⏰~~~

~~~~~~

~~~🔴🤡🔴🤡~~~

Fuck. Just breathe.

Buggy paced in his dressing room after he finished the intro, his hands floating around him so his fingers could walk and tap along his whole body. It wasn’t enough to calm him down.

I can do this. I won’t fuck it up. They won’t take her again.

That worry was still present, although it was shrinking a bit more each day.

Nope. Can’t think about that.

There wasn’t enough time to unpack why his “executives” were less scary now. They could still hurt them. They could still take her from him.

Showtimeshowtimeshowtime.

Buggy blew a few raspberries while he shook his arms out, about to run through some more vocal warmups when someone knocked on the door.

“Bugs, I’m sorry, but I need to tell you something. Now.”

~~~

“What the fuck, Sha—“

The red haired pirate pushed his way in, losing every word he’d struggled to come up with while he snuck back here again.

“Get out, dumbass,” Buggy ordered, almost grateful to have someone to yell at. Or he would have been grateful if this new, pathetic version of Shanks wasn’t hurting his brain.

“It’s about Y/N,” Shanks pleaded. He’d never seen Buggy’s face change the way it did at those words, at the urgency in them.

“Tell me,” Buggy growled, not sure what to do with the tension that had just shot through him. He couldn’t think yet.

“Her uncle crashed the party. I’m— hold on,” Shanks groaned when Buggy tried to shove past him. The red haired pirate pressed his back against the door, struggling to calm his old friend down. “Crocodile is seating him with me, okay? I told you I’ll look out for her out there. I won’t let you down. I just wanted you to know what’s going on.”

“How is she,” Buggy demanded. His breathing was ragged when he finally stopped trying to tear his way through the other man to get to the door. “Is she okay, did he… Is she okay?”

The urge to run out and find her was overwhelming, but he forced himself to listen.

“She’s still with Crocodile and Mihawk. I didn’t before, but… I think she’s safe with them, Buggy. At least for tonight.”

The clown gaped at him, mind still churning from all of those promises to take her away from danger.

Shanks felt himself losing his hold, losing his hope for the future he wanted, and it fucking stung.

She’s more important. I can’t use her for my own goals. Not again.

Y/N’s sick laughter, and her rage filled demands echoed within him.

“I’m gonna sit with him, Bugs. I'll do everything I can to protect her. I promise.”

“… He doesn’t know you’re our friend, right? Just a guest?”

“I’m just an honored guest,” Shanks laughed, that bitter taste still fresh on his tongue.

“Don’t let him know,” Buggy ordered, grabbing Shanks by the chin as he glared into his eyes from inches away, “just in case. It’d be good to have someone with an in that he doesn’t think we’re connected to, at least not closely.”

“Got it, so I—“

“Do that fucking thing you do,” Buggy continued as he started to pace, his fingers snapping, then tapping again.

Shanks started to question, but the clown talked over him until all he could do was listen.

“Do that smile everyone loves. Not this weird one,” he scoffed as he gestured toward Shanks’ face. “Do the cheesy one that makes everyone wanna lick your fucking sandals.”

“Excuse me,” Shanks laughed, forgetting. Buggy made him forget it all again, for just a moment.

“I said stop being this miserable, idiot person, and go flirt with that asshole until you get something we can use against him! You could charm a fucking sea beast, Shanks, I know you can—“

Shanks had enough restraint to keep from smearing Buggy’s makeup with a kiss, but he bellowed with laughter as he pulled his friend into a hug.

“I won’t let you down,” he promised, “I won’t let her down. I’m here for you, Bugs.”

Always.

~~~🔴🤡🔴🤡~~~

~~~~~~

~~~⏰🔴🤡⏰~~~

“Buggy?”

No.

“Gods, Buggy! What’s it been, four, five years now? You look great!”

Buggy wished he could have looked away, wished he could have pretended he was someone else.

But no one in the world looked like him.

Shanks gave him no time to process, no space. He just sat beside him at the bar, wrapping an arm around his shoulders before looking back while he called out.

“Guys, this is Buggy! My friend that I’ve—“

“We know, captain,” chuckled a man with warm brown skin, and dark blonde dreads. Buggy had turned to find the source of the voice, spotting a small, eclectic group at a large booth with him.

“Fuck, it’s good to see you,” Shanks beamed, his cheeks already starting to hurt. It had been so long. He couldn’t believe Buggy was right here beside him. He held his breath as he pulled his old friend into a darkened, corner booth.

Buggy could breathe a bit easier once they were out of everyone’s line of sight, shaking his head slightly at how out of character that was for him.

“Shanks…”

“Buggy!”

The red haired pirate scooted close before wrapping his arms around the quiet clown, letting out soft, gasping laughs. He giggled more when Buggy disconnected his hand so he could grab his mug to take a large swig.

“I missed you, old friend,” Shanks pulled back, his wide eyes darting too fast while he tried to take in every detail. “I love your hair.”

Buggy shivered when Shanks tugged on his blue hair, grown so much longer since they last saw each other.

Memories of that painful day hit his mind, and he jolted when Shanks touched his hand.

“Sorry, Bugs, I’m just so happy to see you.”

“You’ve got a crew already,” Buggy noted, embarrassment kicking in at how far behind he was, yet again.

“It’s not a lot, but we’re growing,” the red haired pirate grinned toward his small crew that was becoming his new family. His new world.

And here was his old world, frowning into his mug.

“We’re staying here tonight, but I can show you my ship tomorrow if you…”

“Sounds good,” Buggy coughed, downing the rest of his bitter drink. He couldn’t afford the sweeter things he liked, but he wanted to seem more impressive anyway.

“Have you been in this town long,” Shanks asked, gaining control of his excitement enough to notice Buggy’s mood, so he tried to shift his tone. “I bet you know the best lookout spots already. What about the market? You have a con or two going yet?”

“Of course I do,” Buggy grumbled, stealing Shanks’ mug for a sip. His face went hot when his friend’s hand rested on his wrist instead of taking the drink back. Old, strange feelings started flooding through him, and he didn’t know what to do with it all.

“I’ll follow you, then,” Shanks teased, nudging Buggy out of the booth.

~~~

Sunset in this shitty town wasn’t too bad when you had a good roof, a decent bottle of booze, and an old friend that reminded you of better days.

The young pirates laughed, drank, and shared stories, finally having their own to share instead of their versions of the same tale.

Stars filled the sky, like a million tiny spotlights reaching out just to shine on them.

Buggy let out a soft gasp, his body tingling when Shanks moved beside him, pulling him down until they laid on their backs with their shoulders and arms pressed against each other.

And the backs of their hands. Their fingers every time they moved.

Right. This feels right.

What am I doing? I should leave.

“You know, I think about you, Buggy,” Shanks confessed, tilting his head to gaze at the real star beside him. “I’ve thought about you so many times.”

Fingers flexed, warm and cool skin, barely connecting. Knuckles touched, rubbing together, so very lightly.

Buggy clenched his eyes shut, trying to remember why he thought he shouldn’t be here with Shanks. What was the point?

He’d been alone for so long.

His breath went strange. The tingling feeling grew. Dizziness hit.

Why are his fingers touching mine like this? Why are my fingers reaching back?

Shanks felt compelled, his body aching for Buggy’s touch in a way they’d never shared before. He’d known that he missed his friend, but he didn’t realize how desperately until now. Seeing him again made him high, made him reach out.

Made him hold Buggy’s hand under the stars.

“I missed you too, Shanks.”

~~~

“Fuck off, Shanks.”

“Okay, okay,” he soothed, holding out his hands to block Buggy’s path when he tried to shove past him, and out of the captain’s cabin. “Why not just stay for a little while then? You don’t need to be a crew member to sail with us to the next island, right? It’ll save you some berry.”

Those soft, brown eyes seemed to be poisonous. The longer Buggy spent falling into them, the weaker he became.

“Fine, but just until the next island,” Buggy grumbled, gasping when Shanks tackled him in a hug. They breathed each other in, the air vibrating around them by the time they separated. Their hands seemed drawn together like magnets. Shanks trailed his fingers down Buggy’s arms, wrists, hands, holding for just a moment.

“I’m not sleeping in one of those crappy bunks. You really need to get a better ship soon, this one–”

“Sleep with me,” Shanks blurted, his face not going nearly as red as his friend’s. “I mean sleep in here with me, my bed’s pretty big. It’ll be just like old times!”

He skirted around the clown, plopping onto the edge of the mediocre bed before patting the mattress beside him.

Buggy gaped, not sure why every new conversation with Shanks made him feel like he was falling off the edge of the world.

“I don’t…”

“It’s alright,” Shanks breathed, his heart racing faster than he knew it could. “I can sleep in a cot if you want.”

I’ve never wanted anyone like this. He’s right here, so close to my bed. I need to touch him, need to feel him.

“Don’t be an idiot,” Buggy scolded, plopping down beside his red haired friend. “I won’t have your crew coming after me for making their captain…”

Shanks laid his hand on Buggy’s thigh, and a high pitched ringing seemed to take all the sounds from the world.

“Buggy, I– mmn,” Shanks moaned at the firm press of lips against his. Buggy grabbed his face, and the taste of grease paint was deliciously bitter as their first kiss deepened. His clown crawled over him, straddling his lap while Shanks lost himself.

What am I doing…

Buggy stopped listening to his doubts, stopped caring. Shanks’ warmth, the hungry sounds he was making, and his strong hands gripping his back, his thighs, pulling him even closer, took over every thought, every sensation. He’d never felt anything like this. Couldn’t believe he was doing this.

He couldn’t believe his beautiful friend was letting him.

“You’re perfect, Bugs,” Shanks hummed, kissing down his friend's throat. “You feel so good.”

The clown made a frustrated noise, kissing that mouth again before it could say anything else.

“Shut up,” he whispered against smiling lips.

“No,” Shanks declared as he stood, making Buggy yelp when he flipped them around, tossing them both onto the bed. Buggy’s blue hair shined around him like a halo while his teeth scraped over his messy, lower lip. Shanks had caged him in, but kept that aching part of his body from connecting yet, though he wasn’t sure how long he could stand it.

“I won’t shut up ‘til you believe it,” Shanks teased, leaning down for a soft kiss. “You’re amazing, Buggy! You’re beautiful, and funny, and soo fucking sexy.”

“Sexy,” he whispered, gasping underneath the red haired pirate. It was too much. Too good.

“Can I prove it to you,” Shanks rasped, low and dangerous while he lost his strength to hold back.

“Go ahead and try, but I don’t– fuck…”

Shanks had grabbed Buggy’s hand, throwing his head back when he wrapped those gloved fingers around his own throbbing cock. He guided Buggy’s hand as he stroked up and down his length through his pants before finding the clown just as painfully needy as he was.

“Gods, Buggy... You want me too, don’t you, baby?”

Buggy’s body answered for him, his back arching at those tempting words. He couldn’t stop shaking from that incredible touch, but nothing could pry his hand loose, Shanks’ cock twitching in his palm through that thin fabric.

“Shanks, please.”

“Please, what,” Shanks half teased, half begged. “Tell me what you want, and I just might give it to you.”

Buggy almost sobbed when Shanks moved their hands away, blocking his weak attempts to reach for him again.

“I know you hate listening to me,” Shanks purred, his body pulsing at Buggy’s little sounds when he whispered those words into his ear. He pulled back enough to meet those crystal eyes, almost forgetting his goal. Almost.

“But I wanna make you feel good, Buggy,” he promised. “I want you to—“

“Just do it already,” Buggy groaned as he pulled Shanks onto him, and they both let out desperate noises when their bodies connected. The red haired pirate rolled away, shaking his head while he scolded him.

“Don’t be impatient, Bugs. I wanna take my time with— hey, you okay? What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” Buggy choked out. He clenched his eyes shut, wanting to jump through the little, round window into the fucking ocean. “I’m fine, sorry.”

“Bugs,” Shanks whispered, wanting to reach out, but not sure if he should. “I’m sorry, we can take things slow, okay? I’m just excited you’re here with me.”

“Ugh,” the clown groaned while he rolled over, his frustrated noise continuing as he breathed it into a pillow.

“Can I get you anything,” Shanks offered, sitting cross legged while he stared down at that pretty hair. He held his own fingers in his lap to resist trailing them through all of that lovely blue. His friend made an incomprehensible sound that brought the hint of a smile to his lips. “Sorry, I didn’t catch tha—“

“Just kill me,” Buggy grumbled, tilting to squint at Shanks with one eye, hoping that he’d disappeared.

There he was. Perfect. Saying such wonderful things. The way he’d touched him...

It was too much. Too good to be true.

Buggy had tried to find someone. Most of the time people wouldn’t take him seriously, but there were some that didn’t mind him being a clown.

Until they asked him to take off his nose.

Even those that were open to kissing, to touching such a freak, couldn’t hold it in. There was always a moment. An awkward giggle. A brief look of disgust when they thought he wasn’t paying attention. He should have just gone through with it, just accepted that was how it would always be.

No one wanted to touch him.

Buggy rolled onto his back to find Shanks waiting, a tiny smile on those lips that were smeared with his paint. The sight tore a bittersweet laugh from the clown’s throat.

“I don’t want your pity,” he confessed and demanded, struggling to keep his voice steady. “You don’t need to touch me. I’m sorry I kissed you.”

“What are you talking about?”

After all these years, those soft brown eyes had looked at him like that. Just the thought of those eyes turning sour hurt more than all of the others that had. He pushed himself up, moving toward the door, needing to escape before that moment could arrive.

“Buggy!”

Their hearts seemed to clash against each other with heavy, frantic beats when Shanks wrapped himself around his friend’s back.

Please, don’t leave again.

“There’s no pity,” he implored, his breath warming the back of Buggy’s neck through all that lovely hair. “I’m glad you kissed me, Bugs. I’d really like it if you did it again, but only if you want to.”

The clown lost all momentum, his painful doubts and fears struggling to stay front of mind with Shanks all around him.

“Just tell me what you need. I’m here for you, Bugs. Always.”

“Shut up, you sap,” Buggy rasped, grabbing onto the hands that gripped his chest. He melted at the hum of relief Shanks let out, and at the breath that moved to the side of his neck, touching his skin.

“Just tell me if you wanna stop.”

“I don’t wanna stop. Just— gods.”

The clown’s gasping moan brought a low growl from Shanks’ throat when he kissed and sucked his neck, pressing his swollen cock against Buggy’s ass. He freed one of his hands to travel down, reaching down, until he dipped his fingers into those teal pants.

“Can’t believe you were about to walk out that door,” he teased, licking and nibbling at Buggy’s ear. “Not when you’re this fucking hard for me. Mm, you’re shaking, Bugs. Want me to—“

“Shut up,” Buggy laughed this time, pulling away from that wicked hold.

Just right now. It’s okay if it’s only for right now. We can be…

“Oh, fuuck,” Shanks moaned, his own legs shaking as he stared down. Buggy had gone to his knees, turning to face him before tugging at his pants. It didn’t take long before Buggy wrapped gloved fingers around his shaft, frowning at his own accessories while he paused his task.

Shanks held in a laugh at that adorable face, grabbing one of the clown’s hands to kiss those gloved fingers.

“You don’t need to hide from me, Bugs,” he promised, smiling as he bit down on the fabric. He laughed through his teeth now at Buggy’s new expression while he tore the glove free.

A soft, little smirk touched Buggy’s lips before he copied his friend, growling when he pulled the other glove off with his teeth.

“You know, I can… I want… Fuck, that feels so good, Buggy. Just like that.”

Part of Buggy was still waiting for the look on Shanks’ face to twist, but all it did was go desperate, a sight he hadn’t known he needed to see. His perfect friend, falling to pieces for him. His taste, his voice, his thick, veiny cock that Buggy was learning how to breathe around. Every word of praise that fell from his friend's lips felt like a standing ovation, and the fingers that twisted into his hair made his eyes roll back in his head.

Shanks was shocked that he was still on his feet with the way his friend's eyes burned into him like that.

He’s so beautiful. So fucking good.

The way Buggy had wasted no time in taking him down his throat sent so much pleasure through him, as though his clown was just as desperate for him as he was.

Buggy’s hands shifted, one stroking along his base, the other massaging his balls until Shanks’ head fell back, almost whimpering.

“You’re so fucking— sooo good, Bugs. Fuck, you’re gonna make me come, baby. I want— wanna make you feel good too…”

Buggy let out a choked laugh, muffled through that throbbing cock, but he couldn’t help it. He had a moment of fear that Shanks would be disgusted, but the needy look on his friend's face pushed him through.

“Buggy,” Shanks laughed, then moaned at the sight of Buggy’s cock floating up in front of his face, achingly hard, and dripping with precum.

“Such a good boy for me. Come on, Buggy. Fuck my throat ‘til we both come,” Shanks ordered, fisting that pretty, blue hair, and giving his friend a wicked smirk. “Think you can— mmnf”

Holy shit. This is real. This is Shanks.

Buggy’s here. He’s mine.

Nothing else existed.

These two long lost friends created their own perfect world made up of their strangled moans, their tingling bodies, and the overwhelming pleasure they drank from each other.

There was something powerful, almost too real, in the way they looked at each other while they came, until that blissful heat pouring down their throats sent both sets of eyes rolling back.

The way they looked at each other afterwards stunned them both into silence. Time stood still, until Shanks couldn’t stand anymore.

He joined Buggy on his knees, awe showing in that crooked smile of his while he brought his hands up to cradle Buggy’s face.

“I missed you, Bugs,” Shanks breathed against his friend’s lips.

“Of course you did.”

~~~⏰🔴🤡⏰~~~

~~~~~~

~~~🔴🤡🔴🤡~~~

“Get off of me, shithead,” Buggy growled while he pushed Shanks away, frustrated with how much he wanted to let him take over his world again. “Go figure out how to get rid of that asshole. Thinks he can just come in here, and… Why is he here?”

“I don’t know yet.”

The red haired man’s momentary relief from guilt was withering away, as though his body could feel where the next few words would take them.

“Well, he’s a fucking moron if he thinks he can just walk in here and take her. Like the fucking Cross Guild is just gonna let someone take our girl? Our— What?”

Y/N’s voice filled Shanks’ mind, her empty eyes branded onto his guilty heart.

‘I can’t go with you. Please make him happy.’

That’s what she said. She’s gonna leave. Y/N’s gonna leave because I pushed her away. I tore them apart.

“Why the fuck are you making that face?”

‘Don’t tell anyone.’

Shanks froze. The right thing to do would be to tell, wouldn’t it? He’d hurt her, and he needed to fix it. He had to make sure Buggy didn’t lose his star.

But she’d begged him not to tell. After what he did, the thought of going against his promise made him choke.

Fuck.

“Shanks?“

“Y/N hasn’t seemed okay since I’ve…” Shanks tried. The near violence in those crystal eyes made him want to beg, to take any punishment, anything to get rid of this fucking guilt.

“What are you saying?”

“I know you know her better than I do,” he continued softly. Weakly. “But I think she’s hurting. I think what we— what I’ve been doing has made her feel…”

He watched helplessly as Buggy’s face changed, his muscles twitching while flashes of anger, horror, and guilt fought for control.

“Are you saying she’s gonna leave with him,” the clown whispered, desperate to snatch the words back from the air, as if they alone would make it true.

Yet the memory of Y/N’s tears dragged the clown too deep, drowning him in fear and shame.

“Are you saying my star's gonna leave because I hurt her,” Buggy breathed, every memory of Shanks touching him in front of her turning to acid now.

Y/N had kept smiling for him.

Until Mihawk had taken her away.

I didn’t care. I just kept thinking about Shanks. I used her for him. I ignored her, even when we…

He felt sick.

“I treated her like she was just a joke!”

“Buggy, I—“

Shanks had expected violence, almost craved it, when Buggy grabbed his cloak. Instead, his tortured friend pulled him close, gloved hands trembling against him.

“Help me!"

“Of course,” Shanks promised, hating his greedy urge to kiss that look of pain off of the clown’s face. “I’ll fix this. I’ll make sure she—“

“I can’t lose her,” Buggy murmured, releasing the red haired pirate from his grasp. “Please—“

“I swear. I will do everything in my power to fix what I… I’m so sorry, Buggy.”

The clown stepped back, aching to scream, to rage against the man in front of him, but his own fear and guilt held him back. He needed Shanks. He tried not to think about how much.

I need Y/N. I need my star.

“It wasn’t just you,” Buggy admitted, opening the dressing room door for his old friend. His old world.

He’s not my only world anymore.

“I’ll fix this,” Shanks breathed, squeezing Buggy’s hand. There were so many more words he wanted to say, but they were running out of time. Selfish words that he had always meant to say, but he knew he didn’t deserve them now.

Energy flooded his veins as he left Buggy backstage again, this time with his vow holding him steady.

I’ll fix this.

~~~

Please don’t go, star. I’ll do anything.

Buggy panicked, every moment of pain on her face replaying in his mind like his own perfect torture.

“I’m a fucking IDIOT! Such a piece of shit! I knew it! I knew I was hurting her, and now she’s gonna…”

Buggy didn’t wait for his feet to catch up while he flew toward the vanity. He dumped out the drawers, tossing everything behind him. All of the colorful contents were scattered across the plush carpet, glitter and greasepaint like fresh wounds left to fester and scar.

“I can’t let you leave. You’re everything, star. Just talk to me, baby. I’ll listen. You’re not a joke to me, never a joke.”

Buggy tore his dressing room apart, vowing to keep tears from touching her beautiful eyes ever again.

~~~🔴🤡🔴🤡~~~

~~~~~~

~~~⏰🤡🤡🤡⏰~~~

Buggy was whistling and skipping back to the docks, carrying a smug smile, and very full pockets. The citizens of this island were friendly to street performers, and he’d spent the day being showered with berry and praise instead of scouting for good pickpocketing spots.

Although he had snagged a rather nice watch during one of his sleight of hand tricks.

He’d even heard stories about another performer that had just left town to head up the coast, and he was hoping they could stay here long enough for him to go see for himself.

Buggy had always wanted to see a lion tamer’s act up close.

The tavern was fancier than their usual spots, and Buggy had to stop himself from floating when he spotted it down the road. He didn’t want to spook the friendly locals.

I’ve got enough berry for some good drinks tonight.

The memory of Shanks grimacing at the taste of all the sweet cocktails he’d forced him to try had Buggy chewing on the inside of his lip, fighting a cheesy smile when he stepped into the pleasantly dim tavern. The booths had high, decorated partitions between them, each lit with their own small lanterns. Most of the crew had been taking up the tables in the middle during their stay, but the place was nearly empty besides a couple of residents.

Buggy caught a glimpse of a sandled foot poking out from one of the booths, and couldn’t resist the urge to sneak up on his red haired friend.

Not friend. Boyfriend.

Still not used to that word, Buggy moved closer, silent as he could be.

“Captain, we need to talk about the clown.”

“Buggy’s good, Benn! There’s nothing to talk about.”

The clown froze for a moment before ducking into the booth behind the captain and his first mate.

It felt wrong. He knew it was wrong, but his heart was stuck in his throat, anxiety rippling under his skin. He clenched his fists, listening.

“You’re not kids anymore. It’s been two years.”

“I know how aging works, old man,” Shanks teased, taking a large swig of his drink, the mug sounding too light when he set it down.

“You’re a captain, Shanks,” Benn sighed, the pressure in his voice turning Buggy’s stomach. “You need to command respect. Buggy isn’t a member of the crew. He argues with you in front of everyone, even enemies—“

“We’re just playing arou—“

“You’re not children,” Benn scolded, his voice going soft quickly after that harsh tone. “A captain needs to be taken seriously. He has to show you respect, Shanks. You need to stop pretending that he’s not a member of the crew just to protect your boyfriend’s feelings.”

Nausea tore through Buggy, humiliation flooding in along with every memory he had with Shanks’ crew.

They all think I’m pathetic. Just a joke. Just Shanks’—

“Okay, Benn. I hear you, alright,” Shanks conceded, releasing a heavy breath. Buggy felt a gentle thud against the thin wall between them, as though Shanks had tilted his head back to rest against the wood.

“I’ll talk to him about it. I just don’t wanna force him,” Shanks paused, and Buggy’s heart paused along with him. “I know it seems silly to pretend for so long, but I want him to be happy.”

“It’s alright, Captain,” Benn soothed, huffing a laugh. “I guess it’s hard not to act silly around a silly clown.”

Buggy was going to be sick.

“Hey now, Buggy’s not just a silly clown,” Shanks chuckled, his voice piercing right through Buggy’s unpierceable heart. “He’s my silly clown.”

~~~⏰🤡🤡🤡⏰~~~

~~~~~~

~~~⏰🔴🤡⏰~~~

Just a joke. I’m always just a fucking joke.

Buggy didn’t know what he was packing. He didn’t seem to be packing at all, since everything in their cabin carried stupid memories.

Not our cabin. It’s the captain’s cabin. Just the Captain, and his silly clown.

“Fuck!”

The clown berated himself silently, hating the thought of the crew hearing his pathetic cries, and judging him even more. He swallowed the lump in his throat while he tried to focus on packing, but he got too focused, letting out a yelp when the door opened, and his least favorite red head stepped in with worry on his face.

“Hey, Bugs,” Shanks started, icy fear pouring through his veins at the sight of that half full bag of clothes on the bed. “What’s going on, baby?”

“Baby,” Buggy seethed, unable to hold it in. “Don’t you mean, ‘your silly clown?’ That’s what everyone thinks I am, right?”

Shanks felt his stomach drop, like he was standing at the edge of a cliff. Buggy hadn’t looked this angry since…

“Buggy, please,” he reached out, his boyfriend’s body floating away too fast for him to touch. “It was just a joke.”

Fuck. Why did I say that?

“Just a joke, just like me, huh,” Buggy laughed, sharp and wrong. “Buggy’s just a clown, so silly, so useless! All I’m good for is being YOURS, and I can’t even do that right!”

“No, Bugs,” Shanks begged, his body glued to the spot while he tried to wake up. “It’s nothing, okay? You know Benn, he can be so serious. Don’t let it—“

“Don’t tell me what to do,” the clown spat, stuffing more random items into his bag. “I’m not a member of your crew. I wasn’t pretending about that. What else were you pretending, baby? Was everything a fucking joke to you?”

“Fuck, no! Buggy, please stop,” Shanks pleaded with stinging eyes as he tried to pull the bag away, floating hands dragging it to the corner of the ceiling. “It’s not a big deal, okay? I promise, it doesn’t matter to me. I don’t care what anyone else thinks!”

Buggy felt too many things at once. His body ached to collapse to the floor, to weep, to apologize for being such a stupid piece of shit. He wanted to beg Shanks to forgive him, to let him stay forever.

He wanted to scream, and rage, and tear this whole fucking ship down. To make everyone that thought he was a joke burn, to show them how fucking silly he could be.

Anything to kill the suffocating humiliation that crushed him more with every memory, every moment he stayed on this ugly boat.

Since he couldn’t do any of those things, Buggy kept packing, trying to close the bag while he ignored the worthless tears ruining his makeup.

Soft brown eyes trapped him then. Shanks finally caught him by the shoulders, his face blotchy with panic while he begged.

“Bugs, please! Baby, just listen.”

“I will,” Buggy threatened, pulling the rest of his body back together while he shook off Shanks’ hold. “Seems like captains only listen to their first mates, so I’m gonna go find mine.”

“Please, don’t leave me again.”

The clown shouldered past the red haired pirate, but his gloved hand hesitated on the doorknob. He almost stopped. He almost stayed.

Until it all slammed into him again.

“You think I’m a fucking joke—“

“Buggy, I never—“

“Don’t underestimate me, Red Hair. Next time we meet, we’re enemies.”

Buggy didn’t turn back, didn’t wait, didn’t think. He just left that boat, setting off to find his first mate.

He fought every memory, every thought, every burning ache in his chest while he floated along, his feet running behind him in the sand.

All he could think about was his future.

Fuck all of them! It’s my time to shine.

Shanks watched his clown leave again. He wanted to scream his name, to run after him, but he couldn’t move.

Couldn’t feel anything but the weight of unsaid words.

None of those other words matter, Buggy. Why didn’t you listen to me?

Why did you leave over a few stupid words? You have to know…

As that blue hair finally floated out of sight, fear won out over everything else at the thought of Buggy all alone out there, yet it planted a disgusting hope inside his heart.

Shanks let himself look at that twisted hope for just a moment before shoving it down, along with as much of this pain as he could manage.

You’ll come back. I’m here for you, Bugs. Always. You’ll be back.

I’ll protect you from this cruel world.

~~~⏰🔴🤡⏰~~~

~~~~~~

~~~🔴🤡🔴🤡~~~

Buggy was glowing on that stage, and Shanks had to bring himself back. Remember his mission.

It’ll be my fault if she leaves, and has to suffer out there all alone. I should have been careful. I should have listened.

If I’d listened back then, Buggy would have stayed with me. He wouldn’t have gone off all alone, and ended up with these monsters. It’s my fault he’s…

Buggy couldn’t let Y/N leave. Little pieces of her were shining behind her eyes again tonight, spurring him on. He needed to listen to her, to make sure she knew he loved her.

Guilt and worry tried to take over, but the spotlight always healed all wounds. Even the fears he had about his “executives” seemed like nothing now, and their strange, small smiles felt almost soothing whenever they caught eyes.

“Care to lend me a hand with the party favors, Mr. President?”

Buggy didn’t look at Shanks when he dropped the papers on his table, grinning at Cedrick Sylvad instead. The red haired emperor snatched up one of the mock posters to have something to think about besides his own guilt, only to be reminded of the ugliness that was happening here.

Distaste and disgust were followed quickly by shame. He’d known what his lovers were up to.

I’m being a hypocrite again, aren’t I?

Buggy felt on fire on stage with Crocodile, the feeling of playing the crowd like this had him high, even with everything else going on. Yet he still had to fight to keep his eyes away from that red haired pirate, pretending his old friend was just a guest, even though he was dying to see the look on Shanks' face while he performed. It had always been one of his favorite sights.

For a split second after Crocodile called for the real party favor, Buggy worried about what Y/N would think, but he shook it off with ease.

My girl’s so smart. She knows who I am, and she loves me anyway. I’ll show her I love her too.

The bound and gagged marine was dripping blood onto the stage. Shanks couldn’t stop himself from glancing back toward his golden eyed lover, still seated at the head table. “The Marine Hunter” scowled down at the stage over his glass of wine, and Shanks looked away quickly before Cedrick could catch him looking toward his niece.

They're gonna execute an unarmed man. This is wrong. I can’t let Buggy…

He hated every piece of himself that felt like he was right.

Red Haired Shanks’ beliefs had crashed down around him, and his mind was scrambling to build things back up, to figure out what he truly valued, and what had only fed his ego.

How many marines have I killed? Can I really judge them? Am I just trying to feel superior?

Even if it’s wrong, I’m the one that hurt Buggy. He wouldn’t be here if I hadn’t pushed him away.

Or maybe this cursed island has turned me into a monster too...

Questions, justifications, and doubts stormed within him, leaving nothing but acceptance, since he didn’t have enough time for this existential crisis.

Nothing else matters. I can’t let Buggy lose her.

“Guess it's time for the finale,” Crocodile smirked, holding his hook to the marine’s throat.

Shanks looked away from the unarmed man, selfishly choosing to enjoy the sight of his beautiful clown for as long as he could.

~~~🔴🤡🔴🤡~~~

~~~~~~

Pride warmed your chest when you saw the way your little smile affected the villain on the stage. Crocodile was about to kill someone in front of you, and it should have felt horrible, terrifying. You weren’t reveling in it, so that was something, but your lack of reaction proved that you were either a monster, or you were crazy.

Probably both.

You managed to turn your sick laugh into a polite cough, although Mihawk still turned to you with something almost like fear in those deadly eyes. Shaking your head, you held your breath at the sound of vultures hissing for their next meal.

“Let’s hear what he has to say for himself!”

“Think he’ll apologize for being such a nuisance?”

“Ooh, I’ve always wanted to hear someone’s last words!”

“Why not,” Crocodile shrugged, using his hook to tear the gag from the marine’s mouth.

Buggy stepped closer to the wheel to squeeze the man’s cheeks, blood and drool dripping down from snarling lips.

“Time for your fifteen minutes of fame,” Buggy announced, leaving his hands to hold the struggling man’s face toward the crowd while he stepped away to show him off. He smirked at the leeches, winking while he gave a mock whisper. “If he lasts that long, anyway.”

The disgust you felt for the guests' bloodlust didn’t carry over to you or your lovers. You loved watching Buggy play them so well.

Even if the unlucky man had to die.

“Captain Tront, Mr. Extra Special Party Favor! Got any last words for us,” Buggy called out, nodding toward the band for a drum roll to start while the marine spit more blood onto the floor.

“You think you’ll get away with this,” he choked out, eyeing the esteemed guests. “You’re risking all your wealth, your reputations, on these freaks?”

Buggy and Crocodile chuckled, and the laughter spread through the hall as the vultures watched the desperate man fall apart.

“You’ll regret this! You’ll all regret throwing yourselves in with these pirate scum! The Cross Guild, and their overpriced whore–”

Little gasps and screams filled the air, just like when the performers had shown off their dangerous acts. Some nervous laughter bubbled up, until applause built, quiet at first, but soon there were leeches on their feet, cheering for your deadly lovers.

Captain Tront’s lifeless body slumped in his restraints, bright red blood spilling like a fresh coat of paint for the wheel. Buggy had gotten the man first, his floating hands snapping the marine’s neck just before Crocodile’s hook tore out his throat.

You’d known that they were going to kill this man, but this was different.

They had killed this man for you.

Crocodile nodded toward you, and you realized that you weren’t at all surprised by his swift violence.

Yet, your sweet, lovely clown had snapped that man’s neck in an instant, just for insulting you. That sweet, lovely clown should have been lost in the applause, the spotlight, the praise, but he didn’t seem to notice any of it.

Buggy beamed at you as though you were his standing ovation, his spotlight, his thunderous applause. This wicked, dangerous clown that just murdered a man was smiling at you while the blood was still warm and spreading across the stage.

You smiled back.

~~~~~~

Likes, comments, and reblogs bring me much ✨dopamine✨ thank you!!

Author's Note: Writing this one was extra special to me. I hope that I did Shuggy justice, and that you enjoyed this chapter! I'm including a little Shuggy flashback age timeline below:

Shuggy Flashback Timeline: (Shanks and Buggy are adorably the same age) - Roger's Execution ~ (age 15) - First time meeting after the execution, and Buggy starts sailing with the Red Hair Pirates ~ (age 19) - Flashback smut from Chapter 23 ~ (between 19-21) - Breakup, and Buggy leaving the Red Hair Pirates to start his own crew ~ (age 21) - Present Day ~ (age 39)

Part 26

Operation Olive Branch has compiled a working spreadsheet of ways to help families fleeing from the genocide in Palestine. If you enjoyed this fic, and are able, please click the link to find a list of GoFundMe's, as well as other ways to help.

74 notes · View notes

aishangotome · 3 days

Text

Alfons Sylvatica: Chapter 20

Chapter 19 Premium Story

♡———♡

The next morning, I woke up and immediately felt something was off.

(Huh...?)

I was the only one in bed.

It should be natural since it's my room, but it felt terribly strange.

(...I felt like I slept with someone yesterday...)

(...Who was it?)

I try to remember, but I can't remember anything like a fog has settled.

Even when I look around my body and the bed, it's neatly arranged and there's no trace of anyone being there.

But...

(This scent...what is it?)

Suddenly, when I moved, a sweet scent brushed past my nose.

(I wonder what it is...when I smell this scent...)

(I feel so sad...)

(Even though I don't know it, it feels like a very important scent to me...)

Like a flower wet with night dew, quiet and clear...

...It was a scent that I wanted to be wrapped in forever.

Kate: Good morning.

Roger: Ah, morning.

Roger was the only one sitting in the dining room.

Kate: Where is everyone else?

Roger: Jude and Ellis are at work as usual. Liam and Harrison are at the cake shop.

Roger: Victor and Will are at the palace, and El is...probably collapsed somewhere.

Roger tells me everyone's schedule and bites into his bread.

Kate: Thank you for yesterday.

Roger: No problem, my research on the curse progressed as well, so it's a give and take, right?

Roger: Are you feeling okay? You looked quite pale yesterday.

Eat, Roger says, pushing a silver stand with toast towards me.

Kate: Yes, I'm completely fine now...

(Huh...why was I so depressed?)

I realized that last night's events were vague and hazy.

(During the day, Roger and I went to see the family of someone who we thought might have had a "mirror curse"...)

(And then...)

Kate: Why was I looking so pale...?

Roger: Oh? That's because the results of the investigation weren't good, of course.

Roger: It seems that just having a keepsake isn't enough to escape the fate of the "mirror curse."

Kate: ...But why was I so desperate to find a way to escape the fate of the "mirror"...

My chest suddenly felt a sharp pang.

(This feeling...what is it...?)

I'm driven by an intense impatience, as if I'm being burned from the inside.

(I have to remember.)

(I need to remember.)

(It must have been something I absolutely can't forget.)

---...You're a real fool, aren't you?

I hear someone's voice dwelling in my head.

--It's okay, I understand. I've lost.

Whose voice is this?

--Let's end this.

Who are you?

Alfons: --"I loved you," in my own way.

Kate: ...!

Kate: Alfons...

Roger: Alfons? Who is that...?

After a moment of blank silence, his eyes widen.

Roger: --Damn, we got played...!

Kate: Did he use his ability on us while we were sleeping...?

Roger: Probably. He must have chanted something like, "When you wake up, you'll forget everything about me."

Roger: I was taking a nap in the lab. That guy...he used his ability on me while I was sleeping.

Kate: He probably did it to me while I was sleeping too...but why would he do this...?

(--No way.)

"Let's end this."

(No, that's impossible.)

I immediately deny the possibility that came to mind.

Because it's too absurd to do "that" for someone you don't even love.

(But--)

Elbert: ...Kate, Roger.

Kate: Elbert...!

The moment I saw Elbert enter the dining room, I rushed towards him.

Kate: Do you remember Alfons...!?

Elbert: ...Yes.

Elbert: Al's ability...has always been a little weak on me.

Elbert: I remembered as soon as I saw the note he left.

(Note…)

The note that was handed to her simply said, “Have a lovely rest of your life.”

Kate: …This is…

“Have a good life,” it’s like a farewell message for the rest of your life.

Roger: It’s more like a will than a note.

Kate: …

The thought she had just dismissed came back to her.

Elbert: …I once asked Al what he would do if you didn’t give up on him.

(Give up…)

**flashback to last night**

Alfons: To see if you’ve truly given up on me.

**end of flashback**

Elbert: Al only answered, “I’ll think about it then.”

Elbert: But I thought there was only one option the Al I know would take…

Kate: What is that…?

(Please)

(Tell me an answer that is different from what I’m imagining)

She stared at Elbert, as if praying.

Elbert: Before you pour any more of your heart, body, and time into Al and fall even more in love with him…

Elbert: He would disappear.

The moment she heard those words, her mind, which had been boiling with confusion and agitation, cooled down.

(That’s right, the Alfons I’ve seen is the kind of person who would do “that kind of thing.”)

**flashback**

Kate: Are you…the kind of person who would throw away your life for a favorite toy?

Alfons: Yes.

Alfons: After all, my life is lighter than a tin soldier’s.

**end of flashback**

Kate: …I have to find him.

Kate: I didn’t fall in love with him so he could do something like that…

Elbert: …I had a feeling you’d say that.

Elbert: I usually don’t chase after Al either, but this time is an exception.

Elbert: –I won’t allow him to just disappear like that.

(Elbert, are you angry…?)

It was unexpected.

But she understood his feelings well.

He underestimates the feelings directed towards him.

Roger: But it won’t be easy to find someone who can fool Victor’s eyes.

William: –Liam just reported on Alfons’ whereabouts.

Kate: William!?

(He went to the palace? And why…?)

Kate: Wasn’t Liam supposed to go to the cake shop…?

William: The Privy Council tipped off the Purification Club, and they had their eye on Alfons.

William: So Liam and Harrison have been tailing Alfons since the other day.

Kate: Is that so…?

William: It was more about following the trail of people trying to contact Alfons.

William: The goal was to locate the residence of a Purification Club leader…

William: However, this morning, Alfons didn’t shake off their tail, but rather, he was obediently taken away.

(No way…)

William: I’m going to go and punish the Purification Club members at the place he’s headed to, but…

Kate: You guys are–

William narrowed his eyes.

William: It doesn’t seem like I need to ask what you’re going to do.

(Alfons' POV)

The Purification Club members I easily caught by simply wandering around the alleys took me to a room in an old mansion decorated with faded paintings.

The place was covered in dust and had poor taste for an interrogation room.

Lawmaker with Round Glasses: You came along quite easily.

Alfons: If someone calls out to me, I’m the type to follow anyone anywhere.

Alfons: Wasn’t that written in the materials shared by the Privy Council bigwigs?

A dilapidated mansion, rarely visited by anyone.

In the center of a room, surrounded by several armed men, a figure sits in a chair.

––The ideal situation.

Alfons: I suppose Lord Gore isn't here in person?

Alfons: Of course not. In evil organizations, it's usually the underlings who do the dirty work.

Lawmaker with Round Glasses: We are not an evil organization. You are the one who belongs to an evil organization, are you not?

Lawmaker with Round Glasses: Showing off your suspicious powers everywhere has come back to bite you.

Lawmaker with Round Glasses: When I told a certain person about the hotel break-in and your physical characteristics, your name came up immediately.

Alfons: Oh my! Who could it be? If they're a fan of mine, I'll entertain them for a night.

Mocking him, the man's temples throbbed with visible veins, just as Alfons had hoped.

(Ah, good. He seems pretty easy to manipulate.)

With a few more taunts, he'd likely lose his patience.

Alfons: ...Are you familiar with the story of Snow White?

Alfons: Who is the most foolish in that story? The most cruel?

Lawmaker with Round Glasses: I didn't bring you here to listen to childish riddles.

Lawmaker with Round Glasses: Tell me about the organization you belong to and its members. If you do, I'll spare your life.

Alfons: Heh... Is this your first time?

Alfons: You should have learned from a professional interrogator before proceeding.

Alfons: Interrogation won't be successful unless you properly research your subject and figure out what threats will make them talk.

Lawmaker with Round Glasses: ...Good advice for a fool who wanders into enemy territory.

Lawmaker with Round Glasses: Let me answer your ridiculous riddle.

Lawmaker with Round Glasses: The most foolish one here is you, and the most cruel one is me.

Alfons: Bzzt. Sorry, incorrect.

Alfons: The answer to both questions is the mirror.

Alfons: Speaking unnecessary truths and causing tragedy... Don't you think it's irresponsible towards the story's ending?

Lawmaker with Round Glasses: W-What are you trying to say!? Do you not value your life!?

Alfons: Can't you even enjoy a little wordplay? Read between the lines.

Alfons: I hate tragedies.

Alfons: So even if you kill me right now, I won't complain.

Alfons: Go ahead, feel free. Whenever, wherever.

The man with the round glasses, seemingly unable to comprehend the words, snorted.

Lawmaker with Round Glasses: You are a valuable source of information. I won't kill you until you tell me about your "Crown" friends.

Alfons: ... For the sake of your poor comprehension of the unspoken, shall I speak plainly?

He stands up from his chair and approaches the lawmaker.

The guards, who had been lulled into a false sense of security by his lack of resistance, all raised their guns at once.

(Yes, good boys.)

Alfons: I refuse to tell the truth. No matter what you do to me, you won't get any accurate information from me.

(Kate's POV)

Guided by William, we left the castle and met up with Harrison and Liam a short distance from the mansion where Alfons was taken.

This was because Roger noticed guards lurking around the mansion.

Roger: They're probably trying to get information on anyone who comes to rescue Alfons, in other words, members of the Crown.

(If we rush in carelessly, we'll put the Crown itself in danger.)

(...But—)

I couldn't help but want to rush in right away, thinking about when memories of him might be lost forever.

Elbert: Roger... can you make sure you don't miss any of the lurking guards?

Roger: Considering their positions and numbers, we'll need four people.

Elbert: ...Then, can I leave it to you?

Elbert: Kate and I will go inside.

Kate: Elbert...!

It wasn't just me who was surprised; everyone else was looking at Elbert with a slightly surprised expression.

Harrison: Wow. That's rare for El to be so proactive.

Liam: All right. I'll make sure to take care of any witnesses who see you two.

William: —Do as you please.

William: We'll head over as soon as we're done taking care of the lurkers.

(Alfons' POV)

Alfons: I refuse to tell the truth. No matter what you do to me, you won't get any accurate information from me.

Lawmaker with Round Glasses: You––

Alfons: Come on, come on, aren't you going to shoot? Don't any of you have the guts?

As I take one step at a time towards the muzzle of the gun and smoothly draw the saber from my waist, I hear the sound of gun hammers being cocked from all directions.

To kill a valuable prisoner, the lower ranks need an excuse.

(Such as provoked and enraged, unable to control my emotions)

(Attacked and felt my life was in danger, so my survival instincts kicked in)

If the latter is added to the former, the trigger becomes even lighter.

Lawmaker with Round Glasses: Don't shoot yet!

Alfons: Oh! So you can kill people from the slums like trash, but you're hesitant to shoot a "noble"?

Alfons: I'm so sorry, how rude of me.

Alfons: I may be dressed like a noble, but... I was born in the slums, which you all despise.

(One more push)

All I have to do is make the stupid underlings who didn't take my saber away because I wasn't resisting think "this guy is dangerous."

Alfons: So, how about it? Can you do it?

Alfons: If you still don't have the courage, I'll cut off one of your arms.

I put my killing intent into it and pointed the tip of my sword at him.

Kate: ...Alfons!!

Alfons: ...?

––I heard a voice I shouldn't have heard.

A voice I shouldn't be able to hear reaches my ears, and for a moment, the mocking smile I'd been wearing fades away.

If this were a play, this is where I'd be expecting boos from the audience.

Turning around, I see her rushing towards me.

(––Why?)

I knew Liam and Harrison were tailing me.

My plan was to lead them here, provoke the Purification Club enough to get myself killed before they arrived.

Then, Crown would interrogate the guy with his professional techniques, expose the Purification Club's leader, and we'd have a happy ending.

My corpse would be disposed of with the other guards, barely remembered. It would have been perfect.

––Or so I thought.

Alfons: Ugh.. Seriously.

Alfons: Reality really sucks.

Alfons: You're all dragging your feet and now we're in trouble.

Man: Is that woman one of his companions---!?

Lawmaker with Round Glasses: I don't know, it's not in the report. She's probably one of the women this guy picked up.

Lawmaker with Round Glasses: ––Whatever, kill her.

The gun was pointed at her.

(Oh, really)

This is ridiculous.

(Kate's POV)

Kate: ...Alfons...?

Everything felt like it was in slow motion.

The gun that was aimed at Alfons turned towards me.

The next thing I knew, Alfons' back was shielding me.

Slowly, his body tilted—and finally, the flow of time returned when his body collapsed onto the floor.

Kate: Alfons...!!

Lawmaker with Round Glasses: What are you doing! Damn it! If he's dead, how am I supposed to report this to Councilman Gore...?

Guard who fired: I-I apologize!

Lawmaker with Round Glasses: Forget it! You useless fools! Don't move a muscle until I give the order!

While hearing the commotion as if it were far away, I rushed to Alfons.

I put his head on my lap and managed to lift his upper body.

Kate: Alfons! Alfons!? Can you hear me!?

Lawmaker with Round Glasses: You woman, you're in the way, move!

He called out in a loud voice, and I looked up with a start.

(This person—)

The lawmaker with the round glasses who was talking to Councilman Gore at the Purification Club hotel was glaring at us.

A cold muzzle, like a black hole, was pointed directly at us.

Lawmaker with Round Glasses: Get away from that man. If we torture him even as he dies, he might spill something—

Lawmaker with Round Glasses: Ugh, uugh!? What...!? M-My head—

(Lord Elbert...!)

Before I knew it, Lord Elbert was standing behind him.

Elbert: ...You, on the other hand...

Elbert: Could you please... not interfere with them?

Whether it was because of Lord Elbert's ability or not, the lawmaker with the round glasses clutched his head, collapsed to the ground, and started sobbing.

(I don't know what happened... but we're saved.)

The bewildered guards were frozen in place at the abnormal sight.

Alfons: Pfft, ugh, ahahaha!

Kate: ...!?

Suddenly, I heard laughter from my arms, and consciousness returned to Alfons.

Kate: Alfons!? Thank goodness, you're conscious... but why are you laughing!?

Alfons: Ahah, no, I'm sorry, it's just... I found it funny, ahaha!

Every time he spoke, his black clothes were gradually getting soaked with blood.

Kate: Blood...! You're bleeding! Stop laughing!

Kate: We need to stop the bleeding quickly...!

The blood was flowing from around his shoulder.

I pressed a handkerchief tightly against the endlessly gushing wound.

In an instant, the white handkerchief turned red.

Alfons: Ha... ugh, hehe, ha, I'm sorry, I know I'm bleeding profusely...

Alfons: But I can't help but laugh... ahaha!

(So much blood is flowing...)

Kate: What's so funny!? It's not funny at all...!

Tears welled up in my eyes.

A black-gloved fingertip gently wiped away the tears that were about to spill.

Alfons: ...Hehehe. You're so desperate, it's silly.

Alfons: To think you'd remember me so quickly and chase me all the way here.

The warmth I feel through his gloves tightens my chest and brings tears to my eyes again.

Alfons: You really are a person who can't get what she wants, aren't you?

Alfons: It's so amusing how nothing goes your way that I can't help but laugh.

Kate: Sh-shut up...

Elbert: Kate, let's use this to tie it tightly over the handkerchief.

Lord Elbert rushes over, holding a long, white cloth.

It looks like he tore it from the edge of his long coat.

Looking around, I see that all the guards are also crouched down like the bespectacled councilman.

Kate: Th-thank you.

Alfons: Humph... Elbert, were you always this... competent?

Elbert: In times like these, you make do with what you have... That's what you taught me a long time ago.

Alfons: ...Such a goody-two-shoes.

After firmly bandaging the wound with the cloth, Lord Elbert left the room to call Roger.

Alfons: ...I wonder why you woke up so soon.

Alfons says, looking puzzled.

Kate: H-how would I know... something like that.

Alfons: If only you had remained deceived a little longer.

Alfons: You wouldn't have had to witness the death of the person you love.

Alfons: By the time the illusion faded... you could have forgotten me completely.

Kate: P-please don't say... death...

Kate: No... Please don't die.

Kate: My love, my feelings, they're still...

Kate: Please don't let them become an illusion...

I could only hold Alfons tightly.

So that the creeping shadow of death wouldn't snatch him away.

So that his existence, my memories, wouldn't disappear like a mirage.

Alfons: Haa...

Alfons stirs in my arms.

I panic when I realize he's trying to sit up.

Kate: You can't get up! The blood...

Alfons: This is truly, completely, from the bottom of my heart, not what I wanted.

A warmth brushes against my lips.

(A kiss...)

It was the briefest of touches... The most fleeting, yet the most deeply etched kiss I've ever experienced.

Alfons: ...It seems I love you quite a bit, after all.

Kate: Wh-what?

Alfons: To the extent that I want to utter these words on my deathbed and leave an unforgettable mark on your life.

Alfons: Life is quite... unpredictable, isn't it?

After smiling, his head wobbles.

(No...)

(No, please.)

Kate: ...More.

Kate: I'll make you leave more behind...! I won't let you die here...

His eyes, which seemed ready to close at any moment, slowly looked up at me.

Alfons: ...Then... shall we make a bet?

Kate: ...A bet...?

Alfons: If I die, I win. Goodbye, have a good life.

Alfons: But if I survive... you win.

Alfons: As you wish, we'll love each other properly—

Alfons: And I'll tear your life to shreds.

Blind Love Chapter 21

Mad Love Chapter 21

If you’d like to support my translations, feel free to buy me a coffee here! :)

#ikemen series #cybird #ikemen villains #alfons sylvatica translation #alfons sylvatica #cybird ikemen #cybird otome #alfons sylvatica chapter 20 translations #ikevil translations #alfons sylvatica main route #alfons sylvatica main story tranlsated

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judesmoonbeauty · 2 days

Text

Fairytale Keeper's Final Assessment SE:

Ellis Twilight’s Epilogue ཐིཋྀ

Fan translation only. Not 100% accurate. Please expect grammatical errors. Cybird owns everything. Feel free to re-blog, but please do not post my translations elsewhere. Highly suggestive. MDNI. Dividers: @/natimiles

Kate, I’ve heard of your work. Thank you for everything.

Now, I’d like you to assess something for me.

Whether or not, the curse Ellis, is a good fit for Crown.

Kate: So, I will observe you for the day and then advise you of my assessment, Ellis.

Ellis: Yay.

Kate: Yay? Don’t you hate it?

Ellis: Why?

Ellis: You’ll try to look for a lot of good points about me, won’t you? That makes me happy.

Ellis: Oh, are you going to try to get rid of me?

Kate: No way!

Ellis: Yeah, I know.

I was surprised when Ellis said that with a mischievous smile.

(….already.)

I have noticed that Ellis is a bit of troublemaker since we became lovers.

Ellis: Hey, Kate.

Ellis: I want to stay with you forever, so I’ll do my best to stay at Crown.

Kate: Then, I’ll do my best to record them as Fairytale Keeper.

Ellis: I love how hardworking you are today too. I love you.

Kate: I love you too.

The kiss dropped on my forehead signaled the start of Ellis’ assessment.

Ellis: Victor, are you carrying that to the armory? I’ll help you.

Victor: Ellis! You’re always so kind and dear to me, my dear cursed boy.

Ellis: Victor, let’s hug after we carry them.

(Yes, yes, Ellis you’re perfectly considerate.)

Jude: Ellis. I ordered you yesterday -

Ellis: If it’s about the picking up people who defaulted on a contract, it’s done.

Ellis: Here, the list.

Jude: You work so fast it’s creepy.

Ellis: Yeah?

(And a lot of work outside of Crown too!)

Roger: ……..Six heartbeats. Ellis, there are several targets behind those crates.

Ellis: Okay, I’ll lure them out first.

Ellis: Kate, close your eyes a moment.

Kate: Okay.

Ellis: I’ll be right back. Just give me a moment.

Then a few minutes later.

Ellis: Kate, it’s over.

Ellis: It’s done, let’s go home.

Kate: What, already?

Ellis: I told you, “I’ll be right back.”

Ellis: You watched me for the day, so how did I do?

With wet hair Ellis, who had just gotten out of the shower, looked me in the face.

Kate: I realized just how much Crown needs you, Ellis.

Ellis: Really? That’s good.

Kate: Oh, Ellis, you’ll catch a cold if you leave your hair wet.

Ellis: Can you dry it for me?

(……When I look up at him, cute.)

I dried Ellis’ soft hair with a towel.

(I thought about many things while observing Ellis today.)

Kate: Ellis, the reason you’re at Crown is because you just can’t leave evil alone.

Ellis: Yeah.

Ellis: You’re the one I want to make the happiest.

Ellis: But I think it would be good if fewer people had to suffer.

Ellis has a distorted view of love behind such gentle eyes.

But what flows through it is tremendous kindness.

Kate: With all that in mind, I feel like this job is your calling.

Ellis: ……Thank you, Kate.

Ellis: I tried to imagine it too.

Ellis: I wondered if I make a living off something other than Crown.

Ellis: I did a lot of different jobs before Crown……

Ellis: I prefer this now.

Kate: Now?

Ellis: I like Crown and Crown’s work.

Ellis: And you’re here. That’s the best part.

Kate: Hehe, yea it’s great.

Ellis looks at me with a ticklish smile.

I was so excited by the twilight-like eyes that I felt my body temperature suddenly rise.

(……..I wasn’t sure what to do. I’ve been nervous around Ellis all day.)

(He always keeps me on the edge of my seat, but …..)

Ellis: Kate?

Kate: There’s one thing that bothers me……

Ellis: What?

Kate: I’m sorry, I’ve been nervous around you all day Ellis.

Kate: …..I’ve watched you all day Ellis, and I fell in love with you all over again.

Ellis: How much?

Kate: That’s….

Ellis: …..

Kate: I have to write a report right now, but I feel like abandoning it.

Ellis: I’ll help you with the report tomorrow.

Kate: Nn……ah. Ah…….

My vision flips I sink my back into the soft bedsheets.

Ellis: You’re making such a pretty face Kate….I couldn’t resist.

Ellis: And…..

Ellis: Kate, you look like you can’t take it anymore.

Kate: ……Ellis.

Ellis: Hey, Kate.

Ellis: Assess whether I’m satisfying you as your lover.

He looks at me wide-eyed and kisses me like he’s going to devour me whole.

I don’t need to assess you as a lover.

My heart is always filled with Ellis’ bottomless love.

Kate: …..Ellis, we’re going to be together forever.

Ellis: ……Even if I die. No, even after I die I won’t let you go.

He is like the twilight, mixture of both the dark colors of a sinful night and the warm sunlight of the day.

Every day with you is like twilight, and I hope it will continue.

As a Crown member and Fairytale Keeper.

[Master List]

#ikevil ellis #ellis twilight #ellis twilight translation #cybird translations #IkeVil #ikevil jp

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debonairprincesposts · 2 days

Note

Your answer to my Charlie angst was amazing, I wasn't sure which way I wanted it to go but I loved what you did. Any chance for part two? See if we can forgive her 😅

THE LONG AWAITED PART 2 OF "Forgotten" HAS ARRIVED!!!!! MUCH APPRECIATION FOR THE PATIENCE Y'ALL !!!

ANYWAY!!!!

HERE WE ARE!!!

(I took some inspiration from some of y'alls ideas in my asks. Thank you for that.)

Forgotten II

It felt oddly quiet when Charlie arrived back at the hotel. Like there was something missing.

"Is something the matter, Charlie?" Vaggie asked, noticing Charlie's expression.

"I don't know, something feels off," Charlie replied. There was something that was supposed to happen today. But she couldn't put her finger on it.

While she was deep in thought, she flinched when her phone started to ring.

Why was her Dad calling?

As she picked up the phone, she heard her Dad's eager voice, "Sooooo? How was your anniversary dinner? Did you like it? I mean- of course you did. I helped organize it, after all."

"Anniversary dinner?" What anniversary dinner. She only had went out with Vaggie, and she didn't-...

Oh.

OH!!

OH SHIT!!!

TODAY WAS HER AND (Name)'s ANNIVERSARY!!! SHE HAD COMPLETELY FORGOTTEN!!!

"Why do you sound so confused? Weren't you out with (Name) just now?"

"No?! I was out with Vaggie all afternoon! I didn't know that today was our anniversary!" Charlie exclaimed, panic clear in her voice.

"Charlie....," That's the most disappointed Lucifer has ever sounded to Charlie. "Where is (Name)? You need to go find them and apologize immediately. They've been planning this for months! You have to make it up to them somehow."

Lucifer had a point. Charlie needed to find (Name) and apologize at all costs!

"I will, Dad. Don't worry," Charlie said as she hung up the phone.

Immediately running up the stairs towards their shared room, calling out (Name)'s name.

As she looked around the room, she spots a letter among a few other things on her bed. Picking up the letter, she read its contents.

Gasp

(Name) left? Forever?! How can this be?

Charlie immediately called her father again, and started to tell him everything.

Lucifer was conflicted. He loved his daughter. Of course he would, he’s her father. But she can do really stupid things at times. He wants to comfort her even though she’s in the wrong. (Name) has come to him with their issues of how Charlie was being neglectful, and inattentive. He advised (Name) to talk to Charlie about it. But it seems to have been a fruitless endeavor. Charlie persisted with her less than stellar behavior, and it seems to have been their relationship’s undoing. He doesn’t blame (Name) for leaving. They confided in him with such thoughts. If (Name) was going to leave then he wasn’t going to stop them. He just hopes that they keep in contact with him. He really liked them. They were like a bff he never had. Truly an unfortunate thing to have happened.

Meanwhile~~~~~

(Name) decided that staying in the Pride Ring where Charlie lived was too much. So, (Name) had decided to go see some old friends in the Lust Ring, and see if they would let them work at their company. Namely, Asmodeus and Fizz. They know the reason why (Name) decided to come back. (Name) already sent them a message previously to let them know of their arrival and their reasons to leaving the Pride Ring.

Asmodeus obviously didn't mind, "Of course, bestie! What are friends for?! Been a while since we've seen each other anyway. Isn't that right, Froggy?"

"Totally! Ooooooh we can have sleep overs like we used to! Oh! And pillow fights! I missed those!"

(Name) chuckled. They really missed those guys.

Fast forward a few days, (Name) gets a visitor at their office.

Knock knock

"Come in!"

The unknown visitor steps through the door to reveal themselves.

"Charlie." (Name) says, tone cold. "What do you want?"

Charlie flinched at (Name)'s tone of voice.

"I'm here to apologize. For the way that I treated you. I know I had forgotten and unintentionally ignored you sometimes, but it wasn't my intention! I swear! I'll do anything you say! Just, come back with me?" Charlie exclaimed, with tears running down her face, "please?"

(Name) looked at Charlie with indifference. (Name) is already comfortable with their new life here. They weren’t going to leave that for anyone else ever again.

"Is that all? If it is, then please leave my office. I have much work to get done."

(Name)'s response broke Charlie's heart.

"I see." Charlie whispered is despair. She was too late. As she turned to leave, she looked back one last time, "For what it's worth, I'm really sorry."

"I know," (Name) said, already viewing their documents that they needed to finish.

Charlie, seeing as (Name) was busy, closed the door as she left.

Seems she wasn't able to convince (Name) to go back with her. Even through all the trouble she put her father through to help her find (Name). It was all in vain in the end it seems.

At least (Name) seems happy here.

——

Even though (Name) left, them and Lucifer still send each other memes and silly pics ((Name) memorized his number). No break up with Charlie is ever gonna stop (Name)’s friendship with their friendly neighborhood King of Hell.

Thanks y’all for waiting for this part 2! Was racking my brain to try to complete it. I’d like to thank some of you in my asks, I used some of y’all’s ideas and managed to incorporate some of it in this story, and came to my rescue.

(Please nobody ask for part 3. Idk what I’m supposed to do after this.)

Ne ways!

Lots of love to everyone out there!

Till next time babes!

And as always, stay healthy and keep hydrated!!

-DebonairPrince ∠(ᐛ 」∠)

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hauntingkiki · 13 hours

Note

OKAY SO idea with sloan! Sloan has a crush on another co-worker, and is telling reader alllll about it, gushing over her, giggling about her, etc., all while reader has a crush on Sloan secretly

:( baby doesnt know theyre so loved by reader

Ending can be fluff though, where it turns into Sloan pining for reader instead!

oh. my. GOD I LOVE THIS SO MUCH!!

people who request sloan/venture things HAVE MY HEARTTT ILYYYY

Let Me Be the One for You

Sloan x Reader

OverWatch

2nd POV

•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•

today was day 91. simply; three months.

three long and exhausting months.

you, y/n I/n, have had a huge crush on your coworker for three months.

your crush, sloan camron, has been oblivious about your feelings for three months.

as of now, the two of you are sitting together, eating lunch and talking about whatever comes to mind.

"oh! and then aurora found me some quartz, since she knew i've been looking for them for YEARS." sloan beamed, pulling out a small handful of raw quartz from their pocket. the crystals were a plethora of colors; hazy grays, pinks, and clears were scattered in sloan's palm.

you nodded in agreement, gently picking up one of the stones that laid in their hold. "yeah, these are really pretty." you cooed, moving the rock around in your fingers, the gem glistening in the sun that was starting to set. "she has a great taste in rocks." you punned, making sloan snicker. you gently gave the rose quartz back to its owner, sloan taking a final look at them.

they shoved the rocks back into their pocket, grabbing their fork to eat their lunch again, which was hand made tamales made by their grandma. "but anyway, none of the boys want to go into the deeper part of the cave; i was wondering if you wanted to tag along!"

you glanced up from your food, which consisted of f/f and half a tamale from sloan. nodding, you started to eat the treat from your friend, a faint smile on your lips. "sure, i'd love to!" you gushed, a hand ghosting over your mouth since you accidentally started to talk with your mouth food, a habit you were taught not to do. swallowing, you finished up your lunch before packing up.

sloan grinned, their cheeks a faint pink as they took your trash into their hands once they were done with their food. they stood up once they got all of the garbage, turning in their heels as they spoke. "great! we'll go in an hour, yeah?" sloan quirked a brow, looking over their shoulder.

you nodded, humming in agreement. "works for me!"

sloan smiled softly and gave you a wave, walking with their chest puffed out toward a nearby garbage bag then to their tent when they discarded the trash.

you smiled stayed on your lips until they were out of sight, a frown twisting on your face as your head fell into your hands with a groan.

you've done everything you could think of in order for them to notice your feeling for them.

you told them that they looked great in a suit, that their eyes stood out with the colors they picked for the fancy dinner.

you fluttered your eyelashes a little extra every time you saw them, a little more when you talked to them.

you described them to a tea as your 'dream partner', but all they said was 'you'll find them! don't worry!'

you gently pulled at your hair as more memories popped into your mind, the hint getting bigger and bigger as they went on. 'jesus, how dense are they?' you thought, your eyes peeking through your the gaps between your fingers.

"still nothing?" one of your friends, samantha, questioned, sitting next to you on the rock.

"no." you huffed, pulling your hands away from your face. your eyes stayed on the mud in front of you, footprints scattered around the soft ground. "i feel like whitney houston wrote that song for me...the 'how will i know' one..."

samantha threw her head back as she hollered a laugh, clutching her sides. "it sure seems like it!" she giggled, wiping the tears from her eyes. "or maybe you're living in her song."

you shrugged with a snort. "feels like it." sighing, you pushed yourself off of the rock, stretching and cracking your joints. "well, i got a 'date' in an hour, so i got to get my gear on for that."

samantha's face softened at the statement, cocking her head to the right faintly. "y/n, really?" she gasped, standing up and stepping in front of you. she shook her head, her afro slightly bouncing with her movements. "girl, you're just hurting yourself by doing this. you need to tell sloan how you feel." she placed both hands on your shoulders, gently rocking you back and forth with knitted brows.

you ran a hand down your face, dirt getting smeared against your skin. "it's not that easy, sam." you protested, looking at her gear before meeting her eyes. "i work with them, we're in the same group. if i was in your group, then i totally would."

she tilted her head side to side, flexing her fingers as her palms stayed on your shoulder blades. "i get that. but it's been three months-well, technically longer- but you need to tell them." she jerked her head towards the area sloan's group was camping out. "if you don't do it soon, i will."

you slouched forward, your head tilted back as you whined, your hands gripping at your hair.

a nearby coworker walked past, stopping when samantha and you caught his attention. "sloan?" your coworker, axel, laughed, gear in hand as he made his way over to you two.

sam nodded, letting go of you as you fell back onto the rock. she crossed her arms, turning towards the taller, muscular man. "yep. won't seem to get the hint with this one." she teased, pointing at you with a thumb. "she's got a 'date' with them in an hour."

axel quirked a brow at that, his eyes slightly wide. "date?" he repeated, dropping the gear in his hands and turning towards your shriveled up position.

"YES!" you screamed, your hands flailed around in exasperation, startling the people around you. groaning, hurled back over, you wept into your hands. "we're going exploring deeper into the cave together." you pointed over in the general direction of the cave the two of you were going to go into.

"just..." axel started, eyeing you with an idea forming in his mind. "the two of you?"

you nodded, lifting your head up to see him softly smirking down at you.

"and you're going into the deep part of the cave, yeah?" he asked again, rubbing his hands together which made you gulp with a head nod. "the part where you need a pulley and gear for?"

you agreed hesitantly, sitting up fully. "yesss?" you dragged on, standing up after a moment. "why-why does it matter?"

samantha seemed to catch on, 'ooo'ing at axel with a smug expression that twisted her face.

"let's just say i can help you out." axel grinned, grabbing the gear off of the rocky ground.

•••

venture arrived at the deeper cave entrance. five minutes early per usual, but instead of being alone, there were two guys waiting at the entrance.

those two guys knew sloan's secret.

"kayden? zane?" sloan gasped, adjusting their gear as they made their way over to the two. "what are you guys doing here?" sloan started to sweat, their hands shook as they gripped the buckles that held straps of gear in place.

"we're your pulley guys." zane shrugged, cocking his head toward the steep decline into the earths crust. "ya know, for y/n and you."

sloan nodded. "o-oh." they gasped faintly, getting the straps to their liking, getting go of the cold metal that soothed their hot palms.

kayden sighed after a moment of long, painful silence. "sloan, can we be honest with you?" he asked, crossing his arms and shifting his weight to his right foot.

sloan nodded, swaying on the balls of their feet. "yeah-yeah, what's up?" they tilted their head to the side, swallowing hard.

"you're totally fumbling." zane piped in, also crossing his arms.

"yeah, she's been playing her cards right for MONTHS." kayden added on, pointing at the campsite.

sloan stumbled back, appalled at their outbursts. "what are you talking about?" they asked.

"Y/N!" they both groaned, trying to get it through their thick skull.

“fumbling? y/n?” they repeated, titling their head to the side like a lost puppy. “what are you two talking about?”

“sloan, she LIKES you.” zane huffed, rubbing his temples in annoyance. he loved sloan, but sometimes it was hard to get them to understand.

sloan shook their head, tapping their canteen with their fingertips. “no, no she doesn’t.” sloan shot the idea down. “she likes someone else.”

the two started at sloan in disbelief, their mouths slightly ajar as they glanced at each other then back to sloan.

sloan blinked a few times, a brow raising awkwardly as the two guys started at them in disbelief.

“you’re joking…” zane muttered, snapping out of his state.

sloan slowly and unsurely shook their head before becoming confident. “i’m…i’m not joking.” they chuckled awkwardly, rubbing a hand through their hair. “she described someone else-“

“yeah- YOU.” kayden laughed, throwing his hands on their shoulders. “who else has a chipped tooth with dimples? and flame tattoos on their neck?!”

zane nodded, walking over to kayden and placing a hand on the man’s shoulder. “and do you think a girl would compliment their…their-uh…” zane gulped, an unsure face expression pinged on their face.

“guy?” sloan quirked a brow with a monochrome expression.

“yes! no girl would compliment their guy friend who’s wearing a tuxedo to a company dinner.” zane snapped his fingers, his eyes vast as he spoke.

suddenly, it clicked in sloan’s head.

all of your interactions suddenly made sense to them in that moment.

“holy shit.” sloan gasped, their eyes darting to the floor, their cheeks turning into a deep wine red.

“i’m not late, am i?” you called out, jogging over to the three with a sweat drop. your attention flashed over to kayden as he flashed you a look, making you gulp with a slight nod. “sloan, you ready?” you walked over to them, smiling brightly.

sloan slowly nodded, making eye contact with you as they reached out for the hook that was tied at the end of the rope. “y-yeah..” they whispered, clipping the hook into their gear.

you followed in suit, the two of you slowly slipping into the jagged hole, your faces inches apart due to how small the hole was.

as the two of you went deeper into the ground, the darker it got, but small glows of color illuminated the tight squeeze, causing the two of you to stop and admire the beauty, and the occasional pick of rocks, gems and other goodies which went into your pockets for further research.

“wow…” you breathed out, looking around as small amounts of color highlighted your skin in all the right places, making sloan’s heart rate race. “it’s beautiful in here.”

they hummed in agreement, swallowing before clearing their throat, catching your attention. “do you…like me?” they whispered without reason, the two boys at the surface weren’t able to hear anything sloan and you were saying due to how far you both are, but they still couldn’t risk it.

your face flushed into a bright red, a coughing fit started which made sloan panic. “w-what?” you gasped once you calmed down from your attack, your eyes darting between theirs.

“do you like me?” they repeated louder this time, glancing away in shame.

the two of you fell silent, both of your hearts racing at the question that was brought up out of nowhere.

had they finally caught on?

did all the pieces of the puzzle click in their head?

or where they far fetching with said question and seeing if you’d bite, then when you’d answer they’d laugh in your face and tell EVERYONE once you two were back on the surface and they’d embarrassed you so badly that you’d have to quit your job, change your identity, move to a new country, and you’d have to find a new job and-

“i’m not mad!” sloan reassured almost instantly when the thoughts in your head started to get anxious. a hand made it’s way to their neck, their eyes lock with your vast, glassy ones. “i just…i just really, really want to know.”

you gulped, sweat building up above your brow and another places you don’t want to be thinking about as you felt the liquid make your joint slick. you clamped your eyes shut, faintly tilting your head down before nodding. “i do..” you mustered out, your voice cracking. you made eye contact with them, your eyes glassier than before. “i have for the longest time! i’ve tried EVERYTHING for you to notice, i-i tried complementing you, i tried acting a little more ‘extra’ around you. you name it, i’ve probably done it.” you let out a weak chuckle, your face and body unbearably hot as waves of heat rolled over you.

sloan’s body also started to become unbearably hot, their eyes the size of plates at your confession.

“and don’t get me started on why i like you.” you waved both hands around awkwardly in the small space, rolling your eyes as you snickered. “like-like how your eyes light up when you talk about your interests, or when you’re outside, when the sun hits your eyes just right which reveals small golden flakes around your pupil. or when you think about something, your left dimple peeks out for no reason, you don’t even do anything but it’s there for some reason. a-and when your holding back a laugh, your lips curl slightly and you can see your chipped tooth-“

“i like you.” sloan interrupted, face completely flushed from your ramble.

you froze, your face slowly turning red as you let the words settle. “n-no you don’t.” you shook your head. “you like…you like aurora- you never stop talking about her.”

sloan shook their head in disagreement, making you softly gasp. “i-i don’t…” they admitted, their fingers fidgeting at a strip of leather. “she’s was a stupid cover up crush cause i thought you didn’t like me, and i was trying to cover up my feelings so i wouldn’t get hurt in the long run.”

silence took over the two of you again, the sound of cloth shifting echoed in the small confinement.

sloan inched their hands towards your face. their dirty, calloused hands cupped your red, hot cheeks, their right thumb gently rubbed against your cheek bone. their eyes glanced between your eyes and down towards your lips before repeating the cycle about five more times. sloan started to lean into your face, their eyes slowly fluttering shut.

you gulped harshly, also leaning towards them as your eyes clamped shut. your hands found their way onto their chest, your left hand sliding up their chest and snaking up into their dark curls, your right hand staying over their heart as you felt it pound against their ribcage.

the two of you eventually met in the middle, your lips crashing gently against one another’s. sloan’s lips were, surprisingly, slightly chapped, as if chapstick was applied an hour or so ago before coming down into the cave, as if they knew this was going it happen (they didn’t btw). their lips were slightly plump and full as they moved in sync with yours, but you assumed it was good genes from their parents- which you were correct cause when seeing pictures, their mom had lovely lips.

butterflies fluttered in your stomach as you pulled them closer into you, both of your heads slightly turning to the right as you both deepened the kiss faintly, like you both have been craving this for years.

pulling away, the two of you stayed inches away from each other, your lips ghosting over one another.

“that was amazing.” sloan suddenly whispered, their lips faintly brushing against yours as they spoke certain letters.

you smiled, giggling softly as you leaned into their left hand. “kiss me again.” you muttered, making eye contact with them.

their eyes sparkled as they pulled you into another kiss, both of you smiling into it.

•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•

I HOPE YOU ENJOYED!! THIS WAS SOOO MUCH FUN TO WRITE I HAD TO MAKE SURE IT WAS PERFECT!!

sorry there wasn’t a lot of gushy, sloan yapping about their crush to reader! i completely spaced it!😓

#fanfic #reading #request are welcome #overwatch #characterxreader #overwatch2 #venture #venture overwatch #venture ow2 #venture x reader #sloane x reader #sloan x reader #sloane cameron #sloan cameron #requested #hauntingkiki

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