#I'm going to hold it against you for the next decade

[livinginshambles]

But what about me | James Potter

Pairing: James Potter x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 5.1k

Summary: Established relationship - You're jealous of the new girl but are mature about it, James is oblivious, and he also forgets your birthday and anniversary.

Notes: So here it is, a new version. I'm not going to continue the taglist, because it is kind of a hassle to take care of. Lily is our friend. OC Rosalie sucks. James is stupid. Spelling mistakes, grammar mistakes, probably a happy ending, you know the drill.

Masterlist

“What’s on your mind?”

_________________________

You stared at James from a distance.

You shot up, your eyes widened in an alarmed manner before your posture relaxed when you saw it was Annabelle. She was a Hufflepuff ghost, a student who had tragically died during a Triwizard tournament, a few decades ago.

You shook your head in reassurance. “Nothing’s on my mind-“

“-So, the usual then?” Sirius’ voice popped up behind you and you wasted no time in elbowing him in the ribs, causing him to let out an “oomph”. You quickly waved at Annabelle who floated off.

“Watch it Padfoot,” you sternly told him, and you tried your best to give him a reprimanding look. By the laughing sound of his reaction, you failed in appearing intimidating.

“So,” Sirius began. “Big day tomorrow ey?” He wiggled his eyes suggestively. You laughed and rolled your eyes. “Yeah, my birthday. Stop making it sound weird,” you huffed, and you shook your head.

“Totally worth it, Annika just walked past us with a beet red face,” Sirius defended with a mischievous grin.

“You should stop your inappropriate comments, I mean you are literally my cousin,” you stated loudly, and Sirius earned a disgusted look from another student passing by.

Sirius’ mouth hung open and then he scrambled to defend himself. “So, we’re not related at all, she was kidding!” His voice and pitch raised by the end of the sentence as he called out to the student who’d given him a not-so-subtle side eye.

You gave him a smug look. “Fine,” Sirius relented. “Truce?” You two shook hands.

“You’re not trying to steal my girl, are you Pads?” Two arms found their way around your waist, followed by a kiss to your cheek.

Sirius let go of your hand to hold them up in surrender. “I wouldn’t dare, Prongs, just chatting because she seemed lonely,” he shrugged. You shot him a glare.

“Lonely?” James’ attention immediately zoned in on you.

“He’s just talking out of his ass, Jamie,” you waved it off.

Sirius raised his eyebrows. “Oh, because you were definitely not longingly looking at Prongs here, talking to that gir-“ This time, you kicked his shins.

“Nah, I’m just pranking you, mate,” Sirius nonchalantly changed course and patted James on the shoulder while he passed him. James ignored him and focused on you.

He spun you around by one arm, held above your head like you were doing a ballroom dance. His hands quickly settled on your sides when you faced him, and he leaned over to pepper your face full of pecks. You grinned up at him and he fondly looked back before pulling you in again for a deeper kiss.

“Really?” A portrait next to you spoke up snorted. “Right in front of my salad?” He gestured to the painted salad on the dinner table in front of him.

James pointedly ignored him and instead tried to pull you a little bit closer. Not that that was possible.

“Oh, now you’re just doing it on purpose,” The man in the painting complained, and you would imagine the grimace on his face if you weren’t too preoccupied with James, who was leaving small pecks against your lips.

“Don’t like what you see, look away,” James murmured against you.  

“Disrespectful cretin these days. I would look away, but you are right in my sight,” The portrait huffed dramatically. You softly pushed James away to offer the poor man a sheepish look but found that he’d already escaped to a neighboring painting.

“So tomorrow,” James started, and you couldn’t help but get excited at the prospect of a date with James. That giddy feeling sank very quickly when James finished his sentence.

“I’ll be training our newest Chaser for the day. That’s the girl I was talking to before,” he explained. “Her name’s Rosalie James, isn’t that funny? Like her last name is James, it confused me a lot during today’s practice,” James continued, not noticing that your mind had wandered of the brunette girl.

“She even joked that if we’d get married, I could change my name to James James,” he laughed. You didn’t particularly see the humor in that.

“Anyway,” he continued, “I know I said that we would study together in the library tomorrow, but I think we should move that to Sunday.”

You frowned, “can we not just move it to the evening then?” you asked, wondering if James was really planning on spending the entirety of your birthday with someone else.

“Well, it’s from 9 o’clock until 7 o’clock in the evening, and we have a Quidditch party thing afterwards, but it’s more of a teambuilding thing. I can ask them if you can join though?” James offered.

You blinked at him in confusion before offering him a smile in return. “What, no- I wouldn’t want to intrude,” you denied. You assumed that he’d find some time to squeeze in a birthday celebration.

James shrugged. “Suit it yourself, love.”

You didn’t actually think James would forget your birthday. After all, James was literally the perfect boyfriend. He was proud to show you off to people, always ready to lend an ear when you needed to, and most of all showering you with love, any chance he gets.

But we’re all still humans after all, today was very busy so it probably just slipped his mind. That’s completely okay, you told yourself. And so, you tried to push away your thoughts, wanting to enjoy the cake that you and the girls had snuck from the kitchen as a late-night snack.

“Red velvet is the best, I swear,” Lily laughed with a sigh as she let herself fall flat on her back in satisfaction. Marlene agreed wordlessly, preoccupied with stuffing more cake in her mouth.

“Happy birthday again,” Alice smiled kindly at you, and you beamed at her. “Thank you, guys, for today, you shouldn’t have bought me the expensive painting equipment,” you said as you motioned towards the brand-new canvasses, brushes, primer, and oil paint.

“Nonsense,” Marlene replied in mock offense. “But you will paint me one day, right?” She batted her eyelashes at you. You pretended to think about it. “I mean, for 15 galleons?” you joked and then had to rush to take your words back when Marlene agreed without hesitance.

“I was only joking,” you laughed and swatted her lightly.

“Eh, leave the joking to your boyfriend and the other marauders,” Lily teased you. “Speaking of them,” she started, and you looked down, knowing the follow up question. “What did they get you for your birthday?

“Well,” you recalled your day so far. “Peter, Remus and Sirius gifted me an expandable suitcase, so I can put all my collectables in there.”

“Damn,” Alice whispered. You sheepishly scratched your head. “Yeah, it took me by surprise too. Last I checked, it cost way too much. I sure hope they acquired it in a legal manner,” you joked.

“I mean, both Sirius and James are well off, so maybe they could afford it and actually bought it,” Alice joked along.

You shrugged. “Oh, James didn’t pitch in for the suitcase. Remus said that he’d told them he was getting something more personal for me,” you said.

“Ugh, what a sap,” Lily commented lightheartedly, and you agreed with a chuckle. “So, what did he get you then?” Lily asked exasperatedly, already expecting something ridiculously grand.

There was a beat of silence.

“Uh, I’m not sure, we didn’t get around to celebrating my birthday together,” you settled on answering.

“What?” Marlene, Lily, and Alice asked in chorus.

“He was busy,” you defended James.

“The entire day?” Marlene squinted her eyes, absolutely seeing through your bullshit excuse. You shrugged in response but nodded your head. “The entire day?” She repeated in disbelief. “Like he couldn’t pop in in the morning or during breakfast?” You shrugged again.

“I guess he forgot,” you mumbled, starting to feel down again. Alice quickly caught on to that and decided to change the subject, trying to cheer you up. “Anyway, should we picnic tomorrow by the lake?”

You exhaled in relief. “I would love that.”

Sirius and James entered their dorms and greeted the other two marauders. “And? Did she like the suitcase?” Sirius immediately asked while he made himself at home on the foot end of Remus’ bed.

“Definitely, like she couldn’t believe it. She even did the happy wiggly dance,” Peter and Remus laughed at the memory. Sirius held his hand up to high five them and grinned in victory. “I told you guys, she needed someplace to put all that stuff she collects.”

James had been utterly confused since he stepped into the room and was not at all following the conversation. It was definitely about you, he figured that much from the wiggly happy dance. But what on earth were they buying you stuff for?

“You guys gave Y/N a suitcase?” He asked cluelessly.

“Yeah, why?” Remus inquired, eyebrows raised. “Is that not up to standard to the great James Potter?” He sarcastically asked, already expecting James to start gloating about whatever he got as a present for you.

“Well, if you guys have that much money in abundance to spend, save some for great pranks too,” James complained jokingly.

Sirius stared at James in confusion. “Huh?”

Peter tilted his head while examining James’ facial expression of confusion and then hesitantly asked. “James, did you forget about Y/N’s birthday?”

Time stopped for James, and he could hear his heart beat loudly, blood rushing to his ears as realization dawned on him, entirely to slowly.

“Merlin!” he loudly cursed, wide-eyed.

At his confession, Remus and Sirius’ jaws slacked. “You forgot!?” They shouted in unison.

Peter covered his ears at their yelling.

“Y/N!”

You turned your head, trying to find the source and halted in your step when your eyes landed on James who was frantically making his way through the hordes of students, crowding the corridor. He had been trying to find you since breakfast.

“Yes?”

James stopped in front of you, out of breath, a little flushed in the face and an apologetic expression adorned his face. You already knew what he was going to say and held up your hand to stop him in advance.

“I don’t need your apology,” you sighed out. James words died in his throat, and it took a moment for him to break out of it. “Love, I’m a right twit, I know.” He unintentionally shot you a defeated look with puppy eyes that you couldn’t help but melt for.

“How was your day yesterday?” was all you ended up asking as you continued making your way towards the library. You motioned with your head for him to follow you.

“I missed you,” James sincerely answered. He still pouted, seemingly upset, but all directed at himself of course. “I can’t believe I forgot,” he frowned. “I’ll work to be the greatest boyfriend again, I promise.” His eyes sparkled with determination, and you couldn’t suppress your amusement anymore, a smile lifting the corners of your lips.

“Well, you’re not off the hook yet, Potter.”

“Not the last name,” James whined. You shot him an unimpressed look that had him accept defeat.

“So, no kisses for you anymore,” you huffed for extra measure, in retaliation to his complaint.

“Wait what? You can’t do that, that’s so mean,” James immediately protested.

“For a week,” you added. “Forgetting about me yesterday was mean to me too.”

James’ hand made its way to intertwine with yours. “Fine,” he grumbled. “But this is still okay, right?”

You squeezed his hand. “It’s twelve o’clock right now. Do you want to have lunch first or study a little bit in the library?”

James gave you a bright smile. “Whatever you want.”

“I want you to choose,” you retorted.

“Lunch, please.”

James spent the following week almost draped over you. His entire body leaned into you, your hands always together, and every time he came in for a kiss, he reminded himself to respect your wishes, which left him burying his face in your neck instead.

It was Sunday and you hummed peacefully to yourself while you were sketching in the boys’ dorms, on James’ bed. You sat in the middle of his crossed legs, his arms were wrapped around your middle. His chin was rested on your shoulder which left him with the perfect view on your drawing in progress.

“I love you,” he quietly mumbled.

“I know, Jamie. I love you too,” you nudged him. James’ arms slipped away, and he moved away from you, you frowned at the loss of contact and warmth, leaning into the pillows behind you instead. “What are you-?”

James moved in front of you and nestled himself between your own crossed legs, back to your stomach, exchanging the position you had previously been in. He slouched a bit until his head leaned against your chest.

“My, you’re putty today, love,” you teased him softly. You closed your sketchbook and started untangling his curly hair.

“I’m really sorry I missed your birthday,” James whispered. You melted.

You chuckled and shrugged. “Sometimes things slip our mind. It just made me feel a little bummed out, that’s all.”

James hummed. “Well, I can promise you that I won’t forget about our anniversary though,” he said, voice filled with determination. You laughed. “That’s still a long time from now Jamie,” you mused.

“I’m already counting down the days so that there’s absolutely no way that I’ll forget it.”

“Hey James?”

James looked up at you.

“It’s twelve o’clock.”

James blinked twice and then a wolfish grin appeared as he practically jumped up and turned to face you, tackling you to bring you in for a kiss.

You groaned at the impact of your head against the wall behind you and James grinned sheepishly in apology before grabbing your hips and pulling you further down the bed to make space so he could finally press his lips to yours, all while completely melting into you and sighing in relief at the feeling.

And for two weeks, everything seemed to be perfectly fine. Until Rosalie joined the picture again, that is.

Dorcas sat next to you in class and elbowed you softly. “What’s up with James and that girl?” she whispered. You looked up from your notes and glanced at James who was nodding enthusiastically at a drawing that Rosalie was showing James. It was a portrait of him, and you couldn’t help but feel a pit in your stomach at how well she drew him.

Features that were so on point, up to the little details like the three tiny birthmarks that seem to disappear amidst his freckles and that one freckle on his upper lip that you often pressed an extra peck to. You knew that for such a detailed, accurate and hyper realistic drawing, Rosalie had probably spent a lot of time studying him up close.

You averted your attention back to Dorcas and forced a smile. “She’s their new Chaser,” was all you replied.

Dorcas sent another skeptical look in James and Rosalie’s direction but didn’t comment on it any further.

“Guess what, love?!” James burst into the common room where you and Remus were calmly reading. James skipped over to the couch you were sitting on and pressed a kiss to your temple.

“What?” you entertained him.

“I just made a deal with the kitchen elves and they’re going to cook us a candle lit dinner for our anniversary,” James triumphantly grinned from ear to ear as if he had just won the Quidditch cup.

Your eyes widened and you jumped up in excitement and disbelief. “How did you manage to do that?” You curiously pondered.

James puffed his chest. “A magician never reveals his secrets,” he secretively replied, and you huffed and swatted him with a laugh. “We’re all magicians here, James,” you pointed out with a pout.

James leaned down to press a kiss to your pouted lips. “Just enjoy dinner with me. It’s in three weeks.” He was not about to tell you that he made a deal with the elves to go and clean the kitchen every day after supper for three weeks.

“Thank you, James,” you said, voice muffled because you had your face buried in his neck, arms around him in a tight hug.

You were incredibly excited for your anniversary, having a surprise for him as well, as you managed to get him tickets to the Quidditch world cup.

You waited for James in the changing rooms, Gryffindor had just lost an important match to Slytherin, and you knew that James would be feeling down. The Gryffindor team walked in, and you got up from the bench you were seated on. When you found James, he immediately came in for a hug.

“You did great out there, love. I’m proud of you,” you whispered.

“But it wasn’t enough,” James frowned. “They’re just always better than us, it doesn’t even matter how much we practice, because in the end, we can’t beat them.”

You stroked his hair in a consoling manner.

“And what’s the point if we can’t bloody beat Slytherin,” James spat out in frustration. You threw Sirius a look over James’ shoulder.

“Don’t say that, Jamie. You’ve won the last two games, and you don’t have to win against them,” you tried. Apparently, that was not what James wanted to hear and you would later beat yourself up for seeming to discard his feelings.

James pulled away with a frown. “But it’s not enough!” You flinched at his loud tone. “I just want-, It’s,” he let out an aggravated sound. “You don’t understand, okay. The feeling of constantly losing to the same opponent, its-“ James was struggling to find the words and you tried to apologize, alarmed, and feeling guilty.

Rosalie showed up behind James and put a hand on his shoulder. “Hey, we’ll get them next time, James. She just doesn’t get it because she’s not on the team.”

You felt hurt by her dismissive statement and wanted to retort when James agreed with her. “Exactly, Y/N, you don’t even play Quidditch, you don’t know what this feels like.”

Your heart sank in embarrassment and hurt, and your mouth formed an inaudible ‘oh’.

“Come on, Prongs. It’s not her fault we lost, don’t take it out on her,” Sirius moved to stand next to James and swatted him lightly. James sighed, closed his eyes, and pinched his nose.

“’m sorry, love. That was totally uncalled for,” he admitted, and he reached his arm for you to pull you back in for a hug. You subtly evaded his arm and swiftly moved yourself to the door.

“No, no. I actually need to go meet up with Peter, so uh. You guys have fun. And yeah,” you awkwardly did a mini wave with your hand towards the  team and fled.

Sirius leaned in towards James. “Good job, mate.”

“Sod off.” You didn’t leave his mind at all for the rest of the night.

You were about to scream bloody murder when you were shaken awake in the middle of the night, but a hand covered your mouth and when your eyes adjusted to the darkness, you could vaguely make out your boyfriend.

“James?” you incredulously whispered. “What in Merlin’s name are you doing here?”

James motioned to his invisibility cloak. “Sleep with me?” He asked and gave you a pleading look. You folded and so you tripled to the boy’s dorms under the cloak and then nestled yourself in his arms. A leg draped over his while you two fell into a peaceful slumber.

James was once again looking everywhere for you. This time with a slight sense of dread instead of the usual excitement.

When he finally found you and saw that you were laughing along with Sirius, he hesitated. He was halfway through changing his mind on addressing the issue with you when you called out to him.

“Morning!” you said, and you slid a sandwich in his direction. “You missed breakfast today, everything okay?" You asked.

James glanced at Sirius, and he excused himself and then left.

“I know we were going to go to Hogsmeade for our anniversary, but Rosalie managed to get tickets to a Quidditch game of our favourite team, and we even get to meet them afterwards. Like I can ask them for tips on playing, it’s just such an opportunity…” He trailed off when he noticed your fallen expression, which you quickly tried to cover up.

“Hey, that sounds like an amazing opportunity,” you assured him because it was true.

“We’re still on for that candle lit dinner, though?” You tried to joke, but it came off more as an insecure question.

James immediately enveloped you in a big hug. “Of course we are, 10 o’clock in the evening and I promise I’ll make it up to you afterwards.”

You laughed quietly. “You better.”

Your eyes crinkled in laughter as the kitchen elves tried their best to cheer you up and keep you occupied while James was hopefully simply running late. But by the time it was one o’clock in the morning, you decided to call it a night and thanked the elves for teaching you two new dishes and chess.

On your way to the dorms, you heard hushed whispers around the corner. When you turned it, however, you saw it was empty, but you knew better. You closed your eyes and took a deep breath, contemplating if you wanted to do this now or tomorrow.

“James,” you called out.

There was a beat of silence and then the invisibility cloak slid off to reveal James and Rosalie, sneaking back inside the castle.

“Love? What are you doing up at this hour-“ he stopped halfway through his sentence with a curse.

“Wait, Y/N, this is my fault, not James’,” Rosalie piped up, but you were done with her.

“Go.”

Rosalie shot James one last glance and when he didn’t look back at her, instead still frozen, attention focused on you, she scurried away.

“I lost track of time. We went to have drinks with the players and time flashed by so quickly and then I completely forgot. And then Rosalie got sick, so -“

“Stop talking about her for a moment.” James looked at you, confused.

“Every single time, it is always you and Rosalie. It’s always her.” You didn’t bother hiding your hurt feelings anymore.

“But what about me,” you whispered defeatedly.

James shook his head. “No, it’s not her. I swear it’s not. It’s bad timing.” he firmly stated. “This isn’t even her fault, it was me and my enthusiasm to go to the game, I-“

“Why do you keep defending her?” You cut him off, allowing tears to well up in your eyes. James bit his lower lip. “I’m sorry,’ he eventually admitted.

“Yeah,” you breathed out exhaustedly. “You always are, aren’t you? Just like you always promise to make it up to me.”

“I will,” he weakly defended. “We can go back to the kitchen right now, eat food, celebrate our anniversary,” his eyes desperately searched yours for forgiveness, but in the darkness of the castle, he couldn’t find any.

“I spent three hours in the kitchen already, I’ve eaten the great food that the elves prepared for me, and our anniversary has already passed,” you coldly stated.

James’ eyes averted to his own feet, ashamed.

You tightly shut your eyes for a moment. And basked in the silence. When you opened your eyes again, you took in James’ posture. He seemed so very small all of a sudden.

Then you walked straight past him, while he was still frozen in place. When you passed him, you halted next to him and turned your head towards him. “I really hope she’s worth it, James.”

This seemed to snap him out of it, and he turned around in a flash. “Wait!” he called out in panic and immediately lowered his voice. “You’re not breaking up with me, right?” His eyes were pleading, and he looked distraught.

You scoffed softly to yourself. “I don’t want to talk to you right now. I’m tired, so I’m going to bed, or else I actually will,” you replied shortly and retreated to your dorm.

Sirius whistled when James entered the room and unknowingly started to rub salt right in James’ well-deserved wound. “One o’clock in the morning, damn Prongs. You two must’ve had fun in the kitchen. How was the food? Did you like the present? I helped her with that,” he boasted.

James shook his head, “I messed it up again, Padfoot.”

Sirius eyes squinted ever so slightly at James. “No way,” he ended up asking in disbelief.

James didn’t answer right away, and Sirius got up out of bed and approached James. Then he shoved him. “Tell me you showed up for your anniversary, Prongs.”

James who had been looking at the ground finally met Sirius eye to eye, tears pooling in his own eyes. “We just lost track of the time, and then Ro-“

“If you finish that sentence and it’s about Rosalie, I will hurt you, James Potter.”

James helplessly looked at Sirius. “But you guys have it all wrong. It’s not her fault-“

Sirius grabbed James by the collar and shook him for good measure. “Prongs, mate. Wake the bloody hell up, would you.” His eyes bore straight through James’.

“Rosalie fancies you. It’s as clear as day. She demands your attention at all times. Asks for Quidditch practice, specifically with you, for an entire day. She diminishes our Y/N’s value in front of everyone, is pretentious and makes it seem as if you two are more compatible. She tries so hard to have so many common things with you like her last name, and she literally has a sketchbook full of portraits of you, which is rather creepy. Besides, she fully knew you were supposed to be back by ten o’clock for your date. I get it man, it’s subtle, but you’re smarter than that.”

Sirius released James and sighed. “And worst of all, Prongs, is that you let it happen. And every time you do, she wins a little more until Y/N will stop playing this stupid game for you.”

James let Sirius’ words sink in and the more he thought about it, the more he realized how right Sirius was.

“I don’t do it on purpose, Pads. Believe me. I know everything looks terrible, but I didn’t realize it.” James took off his glasses, rubbed his eyes tiredly, and pulled a hand through his locks.

“I forgot her birthday, but it was just a busy day, and I don’t really have a choice as captain but to train the new players. A-and I immediately apologized to Y/N when I realized what a twat I was in the locker room. And I didn’t miss my anniversary for a date with another girl or anything, there was a once in a lifetime opportunity to meet people I’ve looked up to, and I know it looks bad together because Rosalie was involved in all those instances, but I never meant to hurt Y/N. You know I’m in love with her.”

James started pacing through the room. It was a miracle that the others hadn’t woken up yet.

“Okay, I believe you,” Sirius decided after consideration. “But maybe try properly explaining and apologizing to Y/N. And then confront Rosalie and tell her to sod off.”

James nodded. “Yeah, yeah okay. I’ll do that.” Sirius looked a little skeptically at James and then patted his shoulder before climbing back in bed, while James did the same.

He had almost fallen back asleep when James asked, “Do you think she’d forgive me?”

Sirius was quiet. He’d seen the hurt look on your face multiple times and had instead tried to keep your mind off of James whenever he saw you stare at James and Rosalie.

“I think she might break up with me, Sirius,” James whispered in a small voice. He couldn’t sleep, his mind was filled with guilt, distress and you.

“Go sleep James, we’ll figure it out in the morning.”

You took a deep breath before pushing through the grand doors of the Great Hall. You spotted the empty seat amongst the marauders and let your eyes slide across the Gryffindor table to look for James.

You found him talking with Rosalie, and you almost wanted to turn around and leave, when you spotted her sour face when he finally walked back to his seat. James wore a relieved expression and was greeted by the marauders with pats on the back in congratulations.

Sirius spotted you and waved you over, scooting over himself so you could squeeze in.

“Good morning,” you gratefully smiled at the boys and sat down. James absentmindedly loaded your favourite food on your plate out of habit and then hesitated. He hadn’t really dared look you in the eyes yet, still ashamed after lying awake all night, thinking of all the things he’d done.

When your stretched out hand appeared in his sight, he looked up and saw a kind expression on your face. He handed you the plate and relaxed a little.

“Sirius tells me you want to explain some things to me, so unless you have a date with Rosalie over there,” you gestured to the girl who was not looking happy. “We could talk after breakfast?”

James nodded eagerly, eyes wide. “Yes, please.” He stared at you, and almost frowned, wondering why you didn’t seem as angry as you did last night, or rather this early morning.

You noticed his stare and knew what he was thinking. “I told you; I was tired, upset and couldn’t deal with it then. But I’ve had a good night’s sleep. I have thought about everything and decided that I’m not going to rashly throw away two years of unconditional love and friendship between us, for things that I feel like you want to explain to me. It’s not so black and white in decisions when it comes to love and my love isn’t that fragile.”

“Thank you,” James breathed out, already feeling like crying.

“Don’t thank me, thank Pads, he is vouching for you,” you hummed. “But your explanation better be worth it. And that’ll be at least two weeks without kisses.”

Taglist:

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[latenightdaydreams]

Alright hear me out

König and insecure reader; like he is head over heels puppy dog following them around and the reader is like “ofc he doesn’t like me we’re just friends” bc of insecurity

And and then he makes very soft advances which turns into a soft session on the couch during like a movie night 😔🙏

I'M OBSESSED WITH THIS PLOT

König x BestFriend!Reader (fem)

MDNI🔞

Master List✍🏽

>cw: fem/afab, fluff, oral, p in v, insecurity

1.8k word count

🛋️

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.

The second König met you; it was as if he found his soul mate. Normally people fear him due to his height, but you never even mentioned it. You both met freshman year in high school at a welcoming event. In the corner of the gymnasium, you simply walked up to König and began to speak to him as if you knew him. He just gazed down at you, studying your face and realizing he was falling in love. You’ve been inseparable ever since.

 A decade later and you're now both in your early twenties and still see each other every day. Even for simple things like grocery trips. You both walk close together as he listens to you talk about your day at work. He holds the basket for you as he always does, his pale blue eyes gazing down at you with a certain sparkle in them.

“Do you want to get some snacks? Maybe we can watch a movie after we unload everything?” He rubs your arm gently as he waits for your response.

“Uh, yeah.”

You can’t help but to smile bashfully up at him. He touches you as if you’re the most delicate thing in the world and it makes you feel calm; at home. In an attempt to detach yourself for the feeling you look away and step forward, grabbing a bag of candy.

König’s eyes follow you as you step forward, his hand lingering in the air for a moment as he debates reaching out for you again. Knowing that you aren’t the most comfortable with physical affection, he decides against it. Your skin is so soft that the feeling lingers on the tips of his fingers. His eyes trail down your body as you have your back to him, you’re so perfect.

When you turn back around König stands there with a big smile on his face, making you smirk. “What?”

“Nothing, Maus. Let’s check out and hurry home.” König held his arm out for you to hold as you both walked back, you accept. 

One thing consumes König’s mind. You. As he drives you both back to your apartment his mind is racing with different thoughts of how he would love to express to you how much he loves you, how beautiful your body is. There is no easy way to do this; he either gets the love of his life or he loses you forever.

Back at your apartment König helps you unload your groceries before he heads to your living room to begin looking for a movie while you went to your room to change. Feeling self-conscious, you put on a pair of black leggings and a baggy shirt in an attempt to hide your body. The way your stomach looks when you sit makes you uncomfortable.

This doesn’t go unnoticed by König. His eyes trace down your body, still able to see some of your stunning shape, but he’s upset that you treat your body as if it’s bad. If only you could read König’s thoughts, then you’d never lack confidence again.

“Come, sit.” König pats the seat next to him.

When you sit, he scoots a little closer and rests his arm across your shoulders. “Is this okay?”

“Yeah.” You say softly.

König presses play and the opening credits for a recently released horror movie begins to play. You feel your body naturally relaxing into his, the warmth from his body is welcoming. His hand pulls you into him more, wanting you even closer.

“You can relax.” He says with a light hearted giggle.

You smirk and adjust the way you’re sitting so that you’re cuddling his body. One of your hands rests on his stomach feeling his solid body and gently moving your fingers in a soft pattern. He lets out a pleased hum as his hand rubs your arm.

“You smell so good, Maus.” König whispers as he leans in to smell the top of your head before planting a soft kiss.

You can help but to feel your face heat up but you keep your eyes on the movie and ignore his kiss. It’s just a friendly gesture. Then he kisses you again and his hand moves from your arm to your waist. Instantly you can feel your heart sink, as his fingers gently rub back and forth on your stomach. You don’t want him to be disgusted.

König isn’t. He loves your stomach, he loves to touch it. He would plant a million kisses across it until you’re convinced that you’re truly beautiful.

A few minutes pass before his fingers gently graze the hem of your shirt before slipping under. His warm fingers leave a trail of arousal in their wake. Your muscles tense feeling his surprising touch. You swallow hard, but say nothing; only encouraging König to go further.

“You feel so soft…” He whispers as his palm spreads out across your abdomen.

You raise your head from his chest and look up into his blue eyes. His lips and pull back into a warm smile as he studies your face for a moment. At this moment, he’s unsure if he should just kiss you or…

König’s other hand comes up and cups your jaw, tilting your head up more. Without hesitation he leans in and presses his lips against yours. Your eyes flutter closed as you return the kiss. It’s a timid kiss at first, as if the both of you can’t believe it’s finally happening.

When you pull away König only leans in more, he isn’t ready for the kiss to end yet. He breathes you in, the taste of your lips is overwhelmingly sweet. His hand on your stomach slips up towards your breasts, squeezing one through the cup.

“Come here.” König whispers when he pulls away from you.

As if you weight nothing, König effortlessly moves your body so that you’re laying down on your back. You gaze up at him as his eyes stay glued to your body. He slowly lifts your shirt up, exposing your light-colored bra and the supple flesh of your abdomen. His eyes trail down to the waistband of your leggings before meeting your gaze again.

“You’re so beautiful. You have no idea how long I’ve been waiting for this.” König says as he lowers his head to place lingering kisses down your chest and stomach.

König gently slips his hands up your back to unhook your bra, his eyes widening slightly when he finally sees your breasts. They’re perfect. His mouth instantly latches to your nipple, his other hand groping and squeezing the other breast. You close your eyes and let out a small moan, allowing yourself to relish in the moment with König.

König sits back and pulls his shirt off, tossing it aside. It’s not the first time you’ve seen his body, but this time feels so much different. Your eyes look up and down, taking in every detail of his pale skin. When his hands reach for your waist-band you put your hand on his, stopping him.

“Wait.”

“What’s wrong?” König’s pale blue eyes now darkened by how dilated his pupils are.

“What if you… don’t like it.”

König looks at you so confused. His eyes drop and trail over your body again, tugging slightly at your leggings to reveal more of your lower stomach and hips. He drops his head and begins to kiss along the edge, causing your body to tense with pleasure. Your fingers comb through his blond hair as you watch him.

“I love every inch of you. Everything about you. I always have.” König says as he pulls your leggings down alone with your underwear. His eyes trail over the beautiful mound between your legs and down your thick thighs. He takes his time pulling your leggings completely off of your legs.

You shiver as you feel his warm breath waft across the sensitive flesh of your thighs. Propped up on your elbows, you look down at him with a nervous yet excited look in your eyes as he parts your thighs. His lips continue with their trail of kisses back and forth between your inner thighs. The smell of your arousal is strong and consuming König’s senses; all he can think of is the fact he finally gets to taste you.

König’s eyes meet yours for a quick second before looking back between your legs. There is a pearly white bead of your arousal lingering between your lips, teasing his tongue. His head lowers and he flicks his tongue out, slipping between your folds. A moan leaves his lips as his eyes close for a moment, you taste divine. He buries his face in between your legs, his tongue desperately licking over your sensitive little clit; sucking on it slightly.

“Oh god, König.” You moan breathlessly.

“Maus, you’re perfect.” König says as he gasps for air coming back up.

He moves his hands from your thighs to his pants so he can undo them, eager to finally feel your wrapped around his aching cock. His tongue slips down and swirls around the entrance of your tight cunt before pulling away. Your eyes follow him as he stands to fully undress. When you see his cock for the first time your jaw drops. He is absolutely massive.

König smirks, looking at your face as you take him in. He adjusts his body to loom over yours, fitting between your legs. There is a moment where you both simply look into each other’s eyes, no words needed to express the mutual love between the both of you. His hands run from your breasts down to your legs.

The tip of his cock presses against you, König doesn’t break eye contact wanting to see your expression when you feel him for the first time. He thrust forward softly, his fat cock spreading your lips as he buries himself deep inside of you. Your eyes flutter shut as a loud pathetic mewl leaves your lips.

“Look at me, Liebling. Please don’t close those eyes.”

König speaks with a strained voice as he gently rocks his hips. The feeling of your tight wet pussy is almost enough to make him cum with barely any friction. His eyes are locked on to yours, the expressions of passion in them sends a shiver down his spine. He leans forward, resting slightly on your body as he begins to thrust into you more passionately. König’s lips press against yours leaving sloppy absentminded kisses on your neck as his moans mix with yours.

“Ich liebe dich, Maus.” König moans. “So much.”

The movie fades into the background, neither one of you even aware of what the plot is at this point. Sounds of orgasmic pleasure and bodies clashing drowns out all other sounds. It’s just you and König. The way it was always meant to be.

[pomegranateandblood]

The Jacket (part 1/2)

Summary: Alive!reader gets assigned a new locker, finds Wally‘s letterman jacket and decides to keep it

Includes: Wally Clark x reader, smut

A/N: I just love Wally & Rhonda‘s friendship

"This is not what I meant when I asked for a new locker."  You said, scrunching your nose in disgust.

„Yeah, it's like they haven't cleaned it in decades" Your friend dusted her hands off.

A comical cloud of dust came out of the locker, when you finally managed to open the jammed metal door. Coughing, you stepped back.

Meanwhile, unbeknown to you, two students were watching. Dead Students to be exact.

„Hey, isn't that your locker, hot stuff?" Rhonda pointed her lollipop towards the situation.

The footballer turned and nearly tripped, running over to you.

„Stop panicking, it's not like you could do anything about it anyway." The brunette rolled her eyes and started following him.

„They promised my my mum they wouldn't give my locker away and now I see some-„ Wally tried to find the right words, holding onto Rhondas arm.

She raised a brow at him „Hot cheerleaders taking over your locker ?"

„I'm serious! All the stuff I have on me is in there, what if they throw it away?" He said, watching you hold up his letterman jacket.

„You're right, they really havent cleaned this in ages." You looked at your friend.

She reached inside, pulling out a blue and white jacket. You took it from her and held it up. „It's cute don't you think? Kinda vintage."

„Oh my god. look." She pointed at the stitching at the right top. ‚Wally' it read in white italic letters. You looked at her. „You think it belonged to the stadium guy?"

„Possible? I mean there's other stuff in there. Maybe he wants it back." Your friend crossed her arms. „We could go to the library at lunch and look into the yearbooks to find out."

The bell rang, interrupting your little locker investigation.

„Sounds like a plan." You said, before walking to class.

—

Wally anticipated lunch break and already waited in the yearbook section, when Rhonda suddenly appeared next to him.

„What are you doing here? Aren't you busy catching gossip in the teachers lounge ?" he asked, cocking a brow at her in question.

She smirked. „I love gossip, but seeing your big star student slash jock ego getting crushed by two human girls is even more entertaining to me"

Wally mocked her smirk and rolled his eyes. He was about to reply when he heard you and your friend entering the aisle.

„1981, 1982- ah here Yearbook of 1983. The trophy cabinet has a table with all, the state champion teams and his name was listed in that year."

Rhonda leaned her head on Wally‘s shoulder, or at least as far as she could with their height difference. „Oh superstar, even state champion? Aww, if I wasn't dead I'd feel sorry."

„Fuck you, Rhonda."  Wally scoffed, trying to concentrate on you skipping through the yearbook pages.

„Sorry I'm not into footballers, sweetheart." She sucked on her lollipop again, leaning against the shelf.

Wally took a deep breath. He was a nice guy, really and he liked Rhonda, but sometimes her attitude just got to him.

„Maybe, footballer dick is just what you need to get over your brooding and depressed mood."

Rhonda laughed. „ Ew." She pushed his shoulder.

„Turn to the exceptional students pages." Your friend said and flipped through the book.

There it was, a full double page.

In loving memory of Wally Clark stood under his picture. Fluffy black hair, chocolate brown eyes and charming smile, wearing the exact same jacket you found in your locker today.

„He's dead?" It sounded more like a questioin than a statement coming out of your mouth.

„Sad, he's sexy." You friend stated.

Rhonda nearly choked on her lollipop and Wally swallowed, before a smirk crept upon his lips.

„She did not just say that?" The shorter ghost crossed her arms.

„He is." You agreed before nudging your friend.

„You think he was a fuckboy ?" She laughed and you joined in. Taking the book from you she read the different things written about him.

„Look, this cheerleader wrote ‚He loved eating jelly filled donuts' Oh I'm sure he did" She wiggled her eyebrows.

„Well if I was born back then, I wouldn't mind him tasting my jelly filled donut." you said giggling.

After chattinf some more, the two of you put the book back and left, still giggling about the handsome footballer.

Wally's face burnt bright red and he felt like his cheeks were on fire. He knew that girls had found him cute back when he was alive, but he never heard girls talk about him like that.

„Congratulations stud, now you're a teenage girls' wet dream in two centuries." Rhonda joked and patted his shoulder.

„What do you mean ?" Wally asked nervously.

Of course he had sex before and he did like it rough, but he was in a relationship before he died and even now he only had one partner to relief his teenage hormones. Wally never wanted to use someone for their body, but this ‚trapped in the school as a ghost’ situation didn't really allow any relationships.

„What I mean is, that girls are or were obsessed with you. When you came to this school I couldn't go anywhere without the female students talk about ‚tall and sexy' you are and how hot you look during football practice."  She made a disgusted face and Wally looked at her in shock.

„Oh and don't we forgot about your girlfriend back then. She was very descriptive to her friends about your dick and how exactly you used it to bring her to the edge."

Wally now leaned against the shelves, trying not to freak out.

„But that was long ago, most of the ghosts here died after me." He said, trying to make himself feel better.

„I don't know why you're freaking out so much? I should be freaking out. Of disgust." She tried to calm him.

„You're right. I just thought- I can't believe I was so naiive." he said, looking down.

„Hey Wally, you're a nice guy." she said, making him smile. „Still entitled tho."

He laughed and rolled his eyes.

—

A few days later you were able togive Wally's mother the stuff you found in his locker. She seemed like a nice woman and you felt a little emotional at how grateful she was.

Especially because you decided to keep the letterman jacket. You gave it to the dry cleaners and basically lived in it ever since picking it up. It was slightly oversized on you but extremly comfortable.

But there was also something different since you wore it. You felt... watched. Just like today, when you got dressed after swimming club.

After leaving the shower, you put a towel over the bench to sit down. You took little longer than usual and had the changing room to yourself.

Suddenly, it's like something tickled over your back, down to your hips. A pleasant sensation. You shivered, reaching for the jacket to cover yourself.

You called out for someone. But you really were alone. Your friend had joked earlier  that Wally Clarks ghost would come for you, because you didn't give back his jacket. Luckily you didn't believe in ghosts and when you sat down on the bench, yet another thought invaded your mind.

You leaned back and opened your legs slightly. Wouldn't be the first time someone touched themselves in the locker rooms. The boys did it all the time after practice.

Your fingers travelled from your navel down to your already wet heat. Exploring your folds, before finding your clit, you closed your eyes. Wally Clark appeared behind your lids. He kneeled between your legs, strong hands holding your hips.

He kissed the creamy skin of your thighs upwards, the dreamiest of chocolate brown bedroom eyes looking up at you. He licked his plump lips before speaking against your folds, the vibration making you hiss out.

„Quite the unusual offer. Letting me eat you out so I'd forgive you for stealing." his tongue lapped up the wetness of your folds and one of his hands found your breasts, kneading them softly before pinching the nipple. One after one.

„Wally, please." You moaned and circled your clit faster. The feeling of being watched heightened your pleasure from the fantasy.

He sucked on your clit and his other hand also left your hip. Two of his fingers pushed inside you, pumping. „Mmmh" he moaned against your sensitive spot. You shivered and moaned his name again and again.

Goosebumps spread over your skin and you were sure his fingers would feel even better than your own. Shifting slightly on the bench, you were sure the towel underneath you was already soaked. The tight coil in your lower abdomen let you know you were close.

„If you weren't already late I'd edge you. Looking so pretty spread out for me on the bench." His fingers curled up and he switched between sucking and licking at your centre.

You came, biting down on your lower lip, so you wouldn't be heard in the nearby hallway. Opening your eyes, you adjusted to reality again and pulled his jacket together in front of your chest. You felt sick, pleasuring yourself to a dead boy. You decided to sit for a bit before redressing and drying your hair.

Wally still kneeled in between your legs. His lips glistened with your juices and he laughed „So much better than a jelly donut"

Licking his fingers clean, he tried to calm his nerves. His hard cock strained against the grey sweatpants, so he sat up and adjusted himself. He really tried holding back, knowing what he did was technically a grey zone of consent, but seeing you spread out on the bench, naked and wearing his jacket, he just couldn't not help you out. Also, you did say you wouldn't mind a few days ago.

He just wished you could see him. It made him dream on his own, about you two. Maybe on the bleachers or in the teachers lounge. Wally really liked the couch in the teachers lounge.

He watched you get dressed and waited for you to leave so he could take care of himself.

—

The thoughts of Wally haunted you throughout the next few weeks. Maybe his ghost did haunt you. So you decided to help the homecoming committee decorate the school with posters and decoration up until the late night to take your mind off it.

You fell asleep in the Gym. Waking up in the middle of the night on the hard floor you sighed. You were about to collect your stuff and leave when you heard a moan. Looking up, your jaw nearly dropped to the Floor.

Wally sat upon a gym mat, the ghost of a cheerleader who died in the 90s after dropping from a pyramid sat in his lap.

There was an obvious tent in his grey sweatpants. Her cheer skirt was tucked into the seam revealing her bare pussy with two of Wally's fingers knuckle deep inside. There was a wet spot on his crotch and the squishy noise of his fingers pumping at a fast pace hollowed in the gym.

Her moans were swallowed by his lips, hungrily devouring her mouth.

You squeezed your thighs together at the sight. Envious of the girl. Wally pushed a third finger inside, keeping the rough pace. The blonde girl reached down to rub her clit, but Wally slapped her hand away.

He pulled away from her, biting her bottom lip.

„You only get to do that when my cock has been inside of you."

Your head fell back against the wall. God, you must be really going crazy. Hallucinating or dreaming, but you couldn't tear your eyes away.

The blonde pouted. „M'sorry Wally."

He helped her climb off his lap before he stood up on the mat. She was already getting on all fours with spread knees. Meanwhile Wally pulled his sweatpants down, revealing his impressive girth. Getting on one knee behind her, he pumped himself with his head thrown back, before guiding himself inside her.

He started with slow thrusts, obviously not doing this for the first time. The blonde under him closed her eyes, mouth agape in pleasure.

Wally picked up the speed while kneading her asscheeks. Your eyes widened when he spread them, letting a string of his spit drip onto her other hole. He massaged it with his thumb and the blonde responded with screaming his name „Please, Wally. Please Please Please." she writhted under his touch as he pressed down with his thumb.

Your -or more his jacket felt too hot all of a sudden and you felt your hardened nipples against the fabric of your bra. Pressing your thighs together you tried to get some relief.

The blonde bit her lip to silence her pleas buz Wally slapped her cheek „No. No. No. Baby. I wanna hear you. Let them hear you." His hand went back to her ass.

„You can pleasure yourself now." he instructed and her fingers immediately found her clit, circling roughly.

After her first orgasm, he pulled out. His dick dripping with her juices, the head angry and red. Wally helped her turn on her back, legs draped over his shoulders, guiding just the tip inside.

She whimpered. „Please come on my tits, Wally. I want to taste you."

You bit your lip at her voice, full of need and desire.

He smirked and started jerking above her chest. Her hand joined him as he put his abover hers, guiding her how he liked it.

He groaned her name as he came. Thick spurts of his glassy cum decorating her rosy nipples, up to her chin, which she greedily licked up.

She started licking him clean. „Thank you, Wally. Mmmh." He pushed her head down further, and looked up.

You stared at him wide eyed as you made eye contact with him. At first his gaze looked dazed from pleasure, but then he thought you could see him.

But that wouldn't be possible would it? Humans can't see ghosts.

Wally tucked himself away and helped his companion fix herself, but when he turned around you were gone.

He was definitely going to seek you out tomorrow.

A/N: I hope you enjoyed, let me know in the comments & leave me some love 💕

[thecameronchronicles]

A Cup Of Sugar

TW: age-gap (reader's over 18.), dirty talk, sex without condom, manipulative behavior.

SUMMARY: Your next door neighbor and crush asks for a favor and leaves with something else...

A Cup of Sugar

The blue house with the white shutters has always been a staple to your cul-de-sac community since you could remember. Block parties pulled everyone together through fake smiles to save face for those who would more than likely be thrilled to not have to speak ever again. But in the politics of jealous wives and HOAs came one glimmer of peace in your existence.

The man in the blue house and white shutters.

Rafe Cameron.

He stood classified to his thoughts, his eyes always dancing over some shaven blades of grass paid to appear so perfect. He offered the waves to those to his caliber and always left you with a kind smile before slipping back inside. And this is how it had been for two decades. Since you were the little girl with pigtails who walked over with your parents to welcome him and his wife to the neighborhood before you could even look him in the eyes. And now, you dreamed of those eyes looking down on you for an entirely different reason.

You were always on the cusp of being noticed, putting increases effort when it was least expected. Even going out to check the mail you made yourself flawless in what you could, only ever getting the politeness from him.

At least until your eighteenth birthday. You caught his gazes lingering, your heart picking up speed, and his words a bit more adult than normal.

-------

A knock pulls you from the mundane afternoon where even the recent slew of TikTok trends over your FYP page do little to pass the time. Once opening the door, you silently curse not giving yourself a once-over in your camera before pulling it open.

"Mister Cameron. My dad isn't here..." The corner of his lips pull upwards.

"I know. I'm sorry to bother you, uh...do you have any sugar?" You stare, helplessly lured and anchored into the beckoning of him. Having always been attracted to the forbidden man across the street of blue eyes full of intimidation and cautious hands silently strong, you find it difficult to keep from showing it.

"Sugar? Um...let me check..." You move inside and hear him follow in uncertain steps before the door finally closes.

Once you come to the cabinet full of baking ingredients seldom used, already aware if you have any sugar it is probably more in brick form than edible, you play the time anyway to keep him in your company.

"Is Madison making something for Cheer or-"

"Let me help..." He stands behind you, shadowing you enough to nearly swallow you in his height alone, as he reaches over the cabinet.

"This cabinet?" You nod, facing him. His smirk remains on you as he makes no effort to actually seek out the sugar and simply holds his hand beside you as if to block you in.

"Mister Cameron..."

"Did you know that when your window is open at night that I can hear you in my backyard?" You blush, trying to imagine if there was anything embarrassing you had done. Played music too loud? Argued with your (now ex) boyfriend and it keeping him awake? Talked to yourself? Only God, it wasn't about him was it?

"Did I? I'm sorry. If I was too loud-"

"I can hear everything from the concerts you put on...to that which you do after you think everyone has gone to sleep..." He leans against you, his cologne dizzying you.

"I..." There is no mystery to his thinly veiled innuendo.

"You heard..." You can't say the words aloud, never having the chance as nobody else has ever been so brazen.

"Everything, Y/N. Or at least enough to know exactly what it is you need..." You blink in disbelief as all words thicken on your tongue, refusing to formulate.

"I-"

"You don't have to deny it. I know exactly what you need....Let me give it to you?" You swallow hard, trying to understand how this is happening. Manifestation truly works if your silent prayers had gone unanswered.

"I don't know-"

You are lifted onto the counter and he stands between your parted legs. It is a quick moment that feels as if it is in slow motion to the feeling of his hands on you.

"You want to know what else I know?" You swallow and nod, curiosity succeeding over logic.

"You can only come with my name on your tongue..." He kisses you with intent. Not to be gentle or loving but to claim. He doesn't wait for you to find breath or even steady against him as he uses the grip on your hips to pull you to him. You hold at his shirt for stability and it only makes him growl as your nails find him instead.

"You need what only I can give you, isn't that right, sweetheart?" You nod, too intoxicated by his touch to want to tempt fate to sober.

"I know nobody will be home for at least a few hours. You know how I know? Because I made sure of it. Now open those thighs for me-" You open and he scoffs, rubbing his jaw as he sees you not only eager but ready as you've completely soaked through your panties.

"I've had to listen for months while you got yourself off thinking nobody could hear you. But I did. And I wondered if you were doing it just to fuck with me or if you were really REALLY that desperate to come...next time, you say my name I'm taking it as a call and I'll make you come. Bet this sexy fucking ass on that." He grips the part of your ass exposed to him before he leans forward.

"Because I've had to hear you and now, you're gonna show me..." He pulls your panties to the side and rubs his cock up and down those lips.

"God, you're so fucking wet, it's almost pathetic." He moans before pushing the bulbous head of his dick closer to your entrance.

"Yesssss." He hisses as you gasp. He's wide, thick, and hot in every sense of the word. The coarse hair usually hidden to the naked eye is now stroking against you as he pulls back far enough to see the slickness you left behind on him.

"That's it....coat my fucking cock." He groans as he continues to thrust brutally and withdraw in almost torturous strides as you are breathless and wordlessly in awe. It is erotic, and almost painful, before he huffs.

"You sound so much better stuffed with me than whatever you were doing. What was it? Hmmm? Your fingers?" You nod, embarrassment rising up your body.

"And it was only me you thought of, yeah? None of those useless boys who can only dream of filling you like I can, right?" When you don't answer, he grips the back of your neck. "RIGHT?!"

You nod as he hoists your flat feet up to the counter so you're completely wide to him. His speed is no longer traceable as he's just pounding into you. Hand stabilizing himself in the cabinet above you, he rams into you with the force awakening something bold within you. You claw at his back and through his hair before kissing him again, instigating it all as he reciprocates with heady excess.

"Trying to get me to notice you in those bikinis and shorts like I could ever ignore you? Fuck, Y/N you're so wet for me aren't you? Gonna come hard? Maybe I should make you wait like you made me." He patronizes behind a humored growl. His head comes back, throwing it in pleasure as his face comforts, mouth wide and almost in disbelief as he grips the flesh of your hips with a punishable clutch.

"You need to come, you come to me. For me."

"Mister Cameron-"

"You call me Rafe when I'm this deep inside of you. Understand?"

"Yes R-Rafe."

"Good. Now scream it while I make you come and then I fill you up." The kitchen shudders around you as he thrusts and retracts, in and out, hard and deep. You were already sore but now you feel expanded and exhausted as he grips the back of your neck and pushes his mouth against yours. Not to kiss, to inform, and maybe even earn through a clenched repetition of "mine".

"Say it!" He calls out as you nod, agreeing in desperation as he showcases his approval on the final snaps of his hips before you feel him flood your womb in all that you were responsible for.

"Ahh fuck, yes I needed that..." He sighs as you keep your eyes on him as he pulls out of you. Without a care to clean up anything more than the space between you, he conceals himself back within his pants and shakes his head.

"So fucking sweet." He walks to the door and you're suddenly left half naked and empty.

"Wh-what about the sugar you needed?" You question, hoping it'll make him stay. With his brilliant smile and tempting lips purposed to a smirk, he grins.

"I got what I came for,. sweetheart." You sit in awe, realizing he took more than he left, including the fact you hadn't come. It was a play for power you gave him willingly and as much as you wanted to be the one in control, you knew you'd falter against him. Having a taste of him, you were eager for the next. Suddenly addicted to the man across the street you've loved and lusted for in equal measure since you could remember...

MASTERLIST

[meanbossart]

What are your thoughts/takes on Astarion's relationship with sex? How does that reflect on his relationship with Drow?

(Obvious disclaimer: this is just my opinion, and my goal is always to entertain myself - never to argue or be the most correct about canon interpretations or themes.)

Hm. So, something that I find very unique (and frankly, overlooked!) about Astarion's previews experiences, is that when speaking specifically about his M.O for luring marks for Cazador the majority of the encounters he seems to have had were not, primarily, "negative".

They weren't positive either, of course. There is no way around it: having sex against your will is rape. But in his case, the perpetrator was never inside the room. From the way he speaks of the people he slept with, he seems to hold a mixture of contempt and pity; but never anger; from the way he speaks of and with Sebastian, it even seems like, sometimes, perhaps in the early days of those 200 years he might have even allowed himself to indulge in small, brief attachments and hopes. Then, as fatigue settled in and the permanence of the situation hit him, I'm sure the motions became mechanized at best and agonizing at worst.

But I think whatever harm the experience has done to his sexuality or self-value, it's damage struck him tenfold in the concept of object permanence. Imagine it: throughout the course of two centuries, you are not allowed to form a connection with a single person who isn't damned to die later the same day. You never see the same face twice. You are never allowed to progress past impersonal first encounters. Astarion says he wants to be seen and known, but a reality that hurts almost more than being invisible is that there were probably thousands of people who would have loved to do that. But you ruined them as much as they ruined you.

I wholeheartedly believe that he was sick of sex, and that for decades to come there will be times when he still turns the lights off during the act, or, ideally, just says No Thank You and moves on, but the hypothetical that really haunts me is that other thing: the almost pavlovian association between sex and looming demise. That people are going to be taken away from you, so why bother being present?

This is a feeling he struggles with sorting through and vocalizing. And in turn, DU Drow often is under the assumption that this is all about sex, and about whether he truly wants it or not. This is yet another small theme in A Novel Experience but, in summary, for a while he still doubts Astarion's own agency to initiate or participate in it - this reduction of the issue as a matter of physical touch, while the big picture is much more complex.

And this does not always externalize in the far more palatably tragic "woe is me, everyone I love leaves" way. Sometimes Astarion still catches himself thinking of the ones he loves as disposable, and acting with due disregard for their lives like it's second nature.

But back on subject: he can have, does have, and likes sex. By finally being allowed to form a friendship and rapport with a sexual partner for whom he does not feel the need to perform to, he can finally enjoy the silly, the awkward, the gross and even the subpar aspects of sex with true intimacy; the anxiety sets after the fact, as he wonders about what comes next once you're out of his sight.

[lamentationsofalonelypotato]

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.

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

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

[signedreality]

saw ur post about wanting requests !! i have this hc in my mind that alastor knows and speaks french very well and uses that on reader (flirts, compliments, etc)…. work ur magic bestie 🤭✨

ᯓ       FRENCH

        alastor x reader

ଳ synopsis ; alastor, who's fluent in french, decides to use the language in order to charm you.

ଳ warnings : romance, petnames, flirting, french is translated by google translate because i'm dumb, and you magically learn french at some point.

ଳ missive ; gladly, and thank you for requesting! i'm officially rushing my writing tomorrow, in which i saw another request ask where i'm going, and i'm flying to colorado! i hope you enjoy this broadcast!

now airing ; la mer - charles trenet

༄.°       the thing with you and alastor is that you both were viewed as friends.

༄.°       but if people were to hear how alastor talks to you, they would think you both had been married for decades.

༄.°       you weren't aware of what alastor's little sentences in french meant, but you just assumed they were simple things, yet you couldn't have been more wrong.

"alastor! what do you think of this new outfit i got?" you called out while the demon perked up from his book, and his grin widened while he placed the novel on the cushion next to him. "of course, cher..."

he straightened his posture as you showed off your outfit, and he could only tilt his head while his eyes traveled down your form. "la tenue vous complimente bien, mais mon manteau serait magnifique sur quelqu’un d’aussi attirant que vous."

(the outfit compliments you nicely, but my coat would look beautiful on someone as attractive as you.)

you stared at him in confusion before blinking a few times—flashing him a slight smile. "thanks...?"

"you're quite welcome, my dear!" he spoke as he grasped his book once again, and without another word, went back to reading his book.

༄.°       things like this would go on for a while.

༄.°       alastor would whisper things in french to you, but since you didn't know it, you were left clueless as to what he was saying. all you were aware of was the wide smirk that covered his face each time he spoke to you in that language.

༄.°       eventually, you decided to find a way to learn french out of confusion. you wanted to know what alastor was saying, and in order to do that, you would need to know french or at least get a translator.

༄.°       let's just say that you learn french, but alastor wouldn't know. it was something you were tempted to surprise him with.

༄.°       and boy, did you surprise him.

"tu as l’air bien aujourd’hui, ma chérie, mais tu serais encore plus belle dans mes bras."

(you look good today, my darling, but you'd be even more beautiful in my arms.)

alastor teasingly whispered from behind while you partially turned your head to face him, and you hummed as you leaned against his chest. your back pressed against him—his eyebrow raising in confusion while he grinned.

"qu’est-ce qui t’empêche de me tenir, alors?"

(what's stopping you from holding me, then?)

with your words, alastor's eyes widened while he peered down at you, yet you felt arms wrap around your waist as a low chuckle left his throat. "absolutely nothing, cher..."

⤷ word count ; too lazy to count

© signedreality

🌊        reblogs + hearts + comments are appreciated !

listeners : @simpingoncarmensandiego @ari-hatake24 @heartfeltcherie

[azrielsdove]

Hi, hi! Can I request an unrequited love with Cassian x f!reader? I feel like I need some angst, but at the same time I'm afraid of angst hahaha.

Longing: Cassian x Reader

Warning: Angst, 18+

Pt.2: Cassian Here | Pt.2: Azriel Here

***

You stood at the corner of the ring, sharpening your knives. Every swipe of the blade against the stone was harsh, loud. You forced yourself to breathe in time with each rhythmic swish of metal and rock. Your eyes weren’t watching what your hands were doing, instead focused on the duo sparring across from you.

Cassian and Nesta.

“You’re going to whittle those away to nothing.” You didn’t move your gaze from the pair, instead sheathing the knife you were working on and picking up the next one.

“Leave me alone, Az.” You knew why he had come up to you. It was the same reason he always did when he caught you staring at the General. To tease you for your unreciprocated feelings. The knife hit the stone especially hard.

Azriel shook his head next to you. “You aren’t very inconspicuous.” You tore your eyes away from staring at where Cassians hands touched Nestas arms, showing her a better defensive maneuver, to glare at your friend.

“Fuck off, Azriel. I see the way you sulk after Elain.” You turned back to your sharpening, knives sliding against stone again. “For a spymaster, shouldn’t you be better at that?” You could almost hear the way his eyes rolled. You were sure he was about to hit you back with a witty retort, but the blade you were working on slipped against the stone, a clean slice going through your palm. You cursed and dropped the knife and stone, other hand coming up to try to stop the blood. Azriel grabbed your injured hand before you could, the nauseating sight of blood dripping onto the ground making you dizzy. You’ve seen your fair share of war and carnage, but something about your own blood made you ill.

“Come on,” he murmured, wrapping an arm around your waist to support you while applying pressure to your cut. You leaned embarrassingly hard against him, made only worse when you caught the devious smirk on Nestas face as she and Cassian watched you be practically carried away.

You couldn’t even bring yourself to look at the latter.

Azriel dragged you down to the kitchen, setting you gently in a chair while he rummaged the drawers for some healing supplies. You stared blankly at the blood running off your hand, dripping onto the stone floors below. Azriel was quick with pulling you up to the sink, washing the wound out. He applied some healing salve onto it before wrapping your hand tight with bandages. “There,” he said gingerly, curling his fingers around yours. “All better.” You looked up at him, shame coursing through your body. You’ve fought by his side for decades, one of the Night Courts deadliest soldiers.

A bit of blood should not affect you so.

Azriel pulled you in for a hug, running his hand soothingly through your hair. You wrapped your arms tight around his middle, burying your face in his chest and breathing deep. His chin came to rest on the top of your head as he breathed with you. You hated how panicked and small you would get when you were suffered an injury, but Azriel was always there to help.

Even when you wished that it was Cassian instead.

He was your friend too, just not quite in the same way. You loved and cared for Azriel as if he were your brother, and you were in love with Cassian. Cassian who would never look at you in that way. Cassian who has become enamored with the oldest Archeron sister.

Cassian, who was standing in the doorway to the kitchen, fidgeting awkwardly at the sight of you and Azriel.

“Hey Cass,” Azriel said, still holding you close and running his hand through your hair. You tensed in his hold, further embarrassed that you had been caught needing such coddling for such a minor injury.

“I, uh, just came to see if everything was alright.” You could hear the discomfort in his tone, presumably at the way one of his greatest warriors needed babied after cutting their hand. You wondered if it was possible for you to melt through the floor and never be seen again. “I’ll just leave you guys, to it.”

You waited until you were certain he was gone before untangling yourself from Azriel, embarrassment all over your face. He looked down at you with a knowing smirk, enjoying this far too much. “You knew he was coming,” you hissed between your teeth, crossing your arms tight in front of you. Azriel shrugged.

“So what if I did?”

You groaned, titling your head back and closing your eyes. “He’s never going to want me if he thinks me nothing but a child.” You glared at him as he started laughing, shaking his head like you were making the funniest joke he’s ever heard.

“You don’t know that’s what he thinks. He is your friend, he worries just like I do.” You rolled your eyes but your anger softened, appreciating that Azriel doesn’t just ridicule you.

“Fine, whatever you say. Can we go back to training now?”

***

You pushed your food around on your plate at dinner, trying hard to ignore Cassian and Nesta. Azriel had nudged you with his knee several times throughout the night, reminding you to stop scowling at the pair. You couldn’t help the jealousy that consumed you over how Cassian looked at her, the desire in his eyes. You couldn’t judge him, Nesta was deadly beautiful. As she battled her struggles with alcohol and her trauma she was even becoming rather pleasant to be around. You enjoyed watching the way she argued with Rhys, a favorite pastime of yours and Azriel’s.

Truly, there wasn’t anything wrong with Nesta. You just didn’t want Cassian to like her. It was immature and selfish, sure, but your heart had ached for him for too long. You glanced over to them again, biting your tongue at the flirtatious smile she threw his way. You were going to be sick.

You stood from the table rather abruptly, stilling when everyone turned to look at you. Damn fool, you cursed silently. “Uh, something came up,” you mumbled out, before turning and practically running from the room. Way to make it worse.

You felt a cool shadow twirl around your ankle, Azriel stealthily making sure you were okay. “I’m fine,” you told the thing, sending it back to him quickly. The last thing you needed was your friend chasing after you. Especially after Cassian had walked in on him comforting you the other day. He doesn’t need anymore reasons to think you’re weak.

You were grateful that dinner was at the new Riverhouse and not up at the House of Wind. You easily slipped out the front door, walking along the edge of the water. The night sky glittered above, a warm breeze blowing through your hair. You were always calmer out by the river, the flowing water a soothing accompaniment to your walk. Why can’t I just act normal around him? You thought to yourself, eyes focused on the ground in front of you. Things were so much better before she came along.

Back when you thought you had a real chance with the General. Before painful envy and shallow hatred took over your soul. You shook your head, looking over into the water and contemplating letting yourself sink to the riverbed. “Hey, are you okay?”

Yea, sinking into the river seemed like a great option right now.

You turned slowly to Cassian, a weak smile on your face. “Yea, just needed a minute.” He looked you over like he didn’t believe you, but nodded at your answer. You were less than thrilled when he moved up to your side, silently telling you that he was joining you on your walk.

“You know, you can always talk to me too. Az isn’t the only one you can trust.” You really do almost fall into the water in surprise at the jealousy lacing his words. You look at him out of the corner of your eye, observing the way he’s pointedly looking anywhere but directly at you.

“Az is my best friend. It doesn’t mean he’s the only one I trust.” Cassian scoffed, making you turn your full attention to him. “What’s so wrong with that?”

He stopped walking and turned to you, a strange anger in his eyes. “Don’t act innocent now. You don’t have to hide it anymore.” You froze, blood running cold. No, how did he find out? I wasn’t that obvious, was I? “I know you and Az are together.”

You blinked.

And then you burst into laughter. “Me and Az?! Oh please,” you choked out, relief coursing through you. He has no idea.

Cassian crossed his arms and glared at you. “I saw the way he was holding you in the kitchen after you got injured. I’m surprised he wasn’t suckling on your wound himself.”

Now it was your turn to get angry. “Excuse me? What is wrong with you?” Cassian rolled his eyes at your question.

“I just don’t understand why you would start avoiding me because you had feelings for him. Did he tell you to?” He looked at you expectantly, like he wasn’t being completely out of line.

“Cass, please. There is nothing between Az and I. If you weren’t so far up Nesta’s ass maybe you would be able to think clearly!” You knew you crossed a boundary before the words were even out of your mouth. Cassian went eerily still, wings tucked tight against his body.

“You have no idea what you’re talking about.” His voice was cold, a tone you’d never heard from him. “Nesta is…going through a lot. It is not a crime to help her.” He stared you down, an unspoken threat in his eyes.

“Have you considered, Cassian, that I am not avoiding you? That you are spending all your time with her, pushing your friends away?” You were shaking slightly, knowing that pushing him was a bad idea.

“You wouldn’t understand. I shouldn’t have tried to follow you out here.” He turned, preparing to fly back to the Riverhouse. “If you are happy with Azriel, that’s fine. You just don’t have to hide it.” You opened your mouth to argue, but he had already taken off. Instead you turned toward the river, kicking a wad of dirt into the rushing water as you let out a frustrated scream.

Why doesn’t he see that he’s the one I want?

***

Things had been tense since your conversation with Cassian a few weeks ago. He had spent the first few days after completely ignoring you during training, along with being extra aggressive towards Azriel. You had informed your friend of the conversation after another particularly brutal session that resulted in Az needing a healer.

“He could be jealous,” Azriel had offered in explanation, your glare shutting him up quick. He raised his hands in surrender, wincing at the lingered wound in his side. You continued to carefully wind the new bandages around him, trying to do it as neatly as the healer did. “Maybe you are misreading how he acts with Nesta.” You tightened the bandages a bit more than necessary as you pinned them closed, ignoring his noise of discomfort. “Alright, hint taken. I’m just saying, why would he be so upset at the idea of you with me if he’s head over heels for her?” Azriel stood, pulling his training top back down before looking at you expectantly. You sigh, turning away to place the bandages back in their drawer.

“If he had feelings for me, why would he spend all his time with her? He’s chosen to push us away, Az. I think he’s really upset with himself.”

***

You couldn’t sleep. Typically you would go bother Az until he gave you some of his sleeping tea, but he had been gone for a few days. You had tried to find the concoction in the cabinets in the kitchen and were halfway to rummaging through his room when you noticed the library lights were glowing. Maybe you could find company in whoever else was awake.

You paused outside the door when you heard the sound of voices, not wanting to interrupt. Through the crack in the open doors you could see Cassian….and Nesta. Great. You were about to continue heading for Azriel’s room when you took notice of their proximity. From this angle you could really only see Cassian’s back, but her legs on either side of his hips were unmistakable. Oh. Everything in you screamed to run, to look away. You couldn’t.

She gave a breathy moan as his head dipped down her neck, allowing you to see the way her eyes fluttered closed. The sound shot through you like a bullet, ripping your very soul apart. No. This isn’t happening. Hot tears slid down your face as you stood there in stunned horror, any hope left in your heart crumbling to dust. You watched Cassian’s hand slide up her thigh, slipping under her dress like he’d done this a million times. He probably has. Nesta’s nails dug into his shoulders and her cry of his name finally broke you from the hold of your fear. You ran from the library as quick as you could, tears blinding your vision. You weren’t looking where you were going, crashing into a familiar body.

“Whoa, whoa, what’s happening?” Azriel asked, wrapping his arms tight around you as you started crying even harder. You heard a faint noise behind you, drawing his attention.

“What’s happened?” Cassian demanded, ever the protective General. You happened. You buried your face in Azriel’s chest, wanting to disappear from this moment.

“That’s what i’m trying to figure out. What are you doing up?” You felt Azriel tense against you, presumably spotting Nesta and putting the pieces together. “Ah. Well, I think I will take her to her room. You have a…nice night, Cassian. Nesta.” He was dragging you subtly backwards, nodding to the pair before scooping you into his arms and heading towards your room.

“Just throw me off the balcony, Az,” you sniffled, tears still flowing freely. His hold tightened in a silent absolutely not. He pushed into your room, setting you gently on the bed and pulling the covers up around you. You felt a slight dip as he sat next to you, a hand running the familiar soothing path through your hair.

“I take it you saw them, then.” There’s no judgment or pity in his voice, only gentle truth.

You nodded against your pillow, your tears soaking the fabric. “I feel like i’ve been physically wounded. As if he stood in front of me and ran a sword through my body.” Azriel hummed from next to you, unsure what he should do. “Will you bring me some of your sleeping tea? A heavy dose.”

“Of course,” he said, leaning down to press a soft kiss to your forehead. “Let me bathe and change, and I will be right back.”

You sunk into your bed, begging the blankets to swallow you up. The pain of years of longing for someone who has chosen someone else was too much to bear. Azriel returned with a very strong cup of tea, warning that it may be a day or so before you woke up. You took the cup gladly, sucking the drink down without a second thought. Your mind emptied of all emotion as you began to drift to sleep.

The only thing left was the faint golden shimmer of the mating bond, shattered into a million tiny pieces.

***

Thank you for your request!!! I apologize that it took me SO long to get this out, I had to take a step back from requests for a while. I hope this is angsty enough for you<3. i went back and forth on how this piece should go, so please give me your thoughts!

[writeroutoftime]

pawns in your game

pairing: cassian x fem!reader

summary: when you get injured working a job with rhys, your mate - worried for your safety - loses it and finally lets go of his pent up anger

warnings: angst, injury towards reader, cass getting angry at rhys and also rhys kinda being a dick (look I have a lot of thoughts of conversations that never happened in acosf lol - I just hope this isn't horribly ooc)

words: 1.3k

a/n: first cassian fic! honestly, I know I said I'm in love with rhys, but it's the same for cass and az - so this one is for my fellow cassian people! wasn't sure how to wrap this up, so I left it open for a part 2. let me know if anyone is interested and/or has any ideas? but either way, please enjoy!! (also, if you could let me know what you think because I'm so nervous about posting this!)

tagging @captainsophiestark as requested! (hope you're having a lovely day!)

oOoOo

"Cassian, I need you to visit Windhaven and deal with Devlon. I'm getting reports of unrest, and I want this handled before it becomes a problem." Rhys commanded, not looking up from the papers on his desk.

Standing at attention, Cass nodded his head once, sharply. "Of course. I will go and pack, so that y/n and I may leave before the sun sets." He moved to exit the room, holding his hand out for you, but was quickly stopped before either of you got too far.

"Actually, y/n, I need you to accompany me." Rhys interrupted, directing his attention to you.

Your jaw dropped, caught off guard, and you hurried to school your features. It was not that you had to be paired with Cassian for all missions, but it had been that way for at least a century now since your mating ceremony. It served as peace of mind to you and Cass, and usually meant your missions were more successful compared to when you were separated. Surely, Rhys understood that.

"We will be leaving for the Spring Court in the morning, and I need my most trusted courtier with me."

Shock ran through your body, but you nodded your head regardless. It must be a serious matter, for you had not visited the Spring Court in many months. However, you instantly felt a sharp tug of your mating bond followed by waves of anger that poured off of Cassian.

"Spring Court?" he ground out, fists clenched at his side. "Why must you travel to the Spring Court? I thought we put that behind us?"

"Because I have official business to conduct with Tamlin that supersedes our personal desires. And I need the Night Court's courtier present for." Rhys snapped back.

You sent a soothing message down the bond, trying to calm Cass' anger you felt growing with each second that passed. "Cass, it's alright. Both of us will be fine."

"No. Rhys, you know what happened the last time any of us stepped foot there. You really want to risk it? Can't you send anyone else to go? Lucien, Mor, Feyre?"

Now it was Rhys' turn to growl. "Watch it, Cassian. I've told y/n she will accompany to Spring and that's enough."

"But can't you just-"

"I said that's enough!" Rhys shouted, his eyes darkened dangerously as the thread of his patience snapped. "I am your High Lord, and you will not push back against what I command."

A tension so thick that it threatened to choke you immediately filled the room. You kept your eyes locked on the ground, but you didn't have to look to know Cass wore a mask of despair on his face. It had been decades since Rhys had lost his temper like that.

Cassian merely bowed his head in mock respect before dragging you from the room. He did not speak for the next hour, only doing so to whisper his love and goodbye to you, before flying to Windhaven, not saying another word to Rhys.

oOoOo

The next day found yourself in the ruins of the Spring Court. What once was a beautiful court that thrived for all its citizens now lay dilapidated and lonely, a reflection of the court's high lord's own feelings. It had rattled your nerves to set foot on Tamlin's territory considering the rocky history between the Spring and Night courts, but you would not leave Rhys' side.

Now, you were utterly exhausted from mediating with two, stubborn males all day; only for no new development to transpire, meaning you simply wasted a day away from your own court and your mate. Your only relief came from the swift exit Rhys insisted on, making sure you would arrive home before the sun set.

Yet, the tension from the previous day lingered as you and Rhys traveled to the border to be able to winnow out. But as you both walked in silence, you couldn't help but feel uneasy. Like someone, or something was watching you. Before you could communicate any of this to Rhys, you caught a solider out of the corner of your eye with an arrow notched and aimed at your high lord.

"Look out!" you shouted. With such little warning, you knew Rhys wouldn't be able to deflect the arrow on his own. And with a rush of adrenaline, you pushed your body to reach Rhys.

Mere seconds before the arrow could lodge itself in its initial target, your body collided with Rhys', knocking him out of the way and safely to the ground. Instead, the arrow lodged itself deep in your shoulder, burning like a thousand fires. You let out a guttural scream, immediately dropping to the ground. 

Being part of the Inner Circle - the Court of Dreams - meant you were no stranger to pain, but this was unlike anything you ever thought existed. Very briefly, you recognized that Rhys had neutralized the threat and now hovered over your body. 

His face was contorted in pain and tears clouded his eyes. He moved to pull the arrow from your body, but halted the moment he touched it. Your scream reverberated in the stone courtyard. 

"y/n, I'm sorry, I'm sorry." he cried, never seeing you like this. Quickly, Rhys gathered you in his arms and winnowed back to Velaris and directly into the med wing. He prayed Madja could mend the wounds, and he blanched at the thought of Cassian discovering the events that had played out. 

oOoOo

Meanwhile, in the Windhaven camp, Cassian was meeting with a handful of males, attempting to negotiate peace. His focus wavered, however, as a blinding wave of agony struck his heart through his bond. He froze on the spot, his heart stopped pumping blood. While on a mission, the two of you had agreed to keep the bond closed - for safety reasons. The fact that he could feel this immense pain, meant something very wrong had occurred. 

"I-I have to go." Cassian mumbled, not bothering to offer any more explanation to the Illyrians - consequences be damned.

Immediately, he took to the skies and started the flight back to Velaris. The already long flight felt like it took an eternity. The wind strung at Cassian's cheeks as he soared, but the pain didn't register like the way the bond sung in pain.

Finally, Cass could see River House in his site, and when he finally entered the house, he was met with the site of his family huddled together in the sitting room. All eyes turned his way, a mixture of pity and concern as they looked at him. 

"What happened? Where is y/n?" he demanded, fully stepping into his role as Lord of Bloodshed, eyes darkened and wings drawn out menacingly.

Before anyone could answer, another scream could be heard from the halls. Cassian's knees buckled, and he would have fallen to the floor if Azriel hadn't been standing by. Rhys blocked his path, unable to meet his brother's eye.

"She was attacked, brother. We were ambushed while visiting the Spring Court." Rhys whispered.

"And they attacked her?" Cass questioned, though he knew deep down that wasn't the case. When Rhys, or anyone else for that matter, refused to speak, Cassian growled. "What happened?"

Unable to speak, Rhysand gently scraped against Cassian's mental shields and projected to him the whole truth of what had happened at the Spring Court; the ambush, you pushing yourself into harm's way for the sake of Rhys, and the pain you felt from the moment the arrow struck your body.

As Rhys withdrew himself from his brother's mind, Cass drew, deep rugged breaths. The silence in the room was so thick it felt suffocating, but no one dared to move or speak first. However, instead of speaking, Cass pushed past everyone and demanded his way into your room to be by your side.

One look at your crumpled form, sent Cassian to his knees by your bedside. He reached out, hesitantly, to grasp your hand in his and allowed the tears to fall. "I'm so sorry, sweetheart." he mumbled.

Madja made herself known from the corner, approaching Cass the way one would a frightened animal. "The arrow she was shot with was laced with a terrible poison - much worse than faebane. I've done my best, but some of the poison already made it to her system."

"When will she wake up?" Cass asked, not allowing the possibility of you never waking to cross his lips.

The healer sighed deeply, looking over the famed general, now brought to his knees at the sight of his mate fighting for her life. "Only the Cauldron and Mother know. It will be up to y/n to bring herself back from the brink." Madja spoke slowly.

With a final, soothing touch to Cass's shoulder, Madja made her exit. Now off to deliver the same news to the rest of your waiting family.

"Please don't leave me. Y-you can't leave me." Cass whispered, clutching your hand. "I'm here with you every step of the way." he vowed.

oOoOo

And that was how it continued for the next four days as your body continued to try and heal itself from the inside out. Cass refused to move from the chair he had dragged to sit by your bed. Unwilling to leave your side for even a moment.

The rest of his family took turns sitting with you and Cass, bringing him meals, forcing him to at least take a bite. He knew that everyone else was suffering as well from your situation, but it felt like his heart was being torn apart, bit by bit, with each hour that passed and you still remained asleep.

He wasn't stupid. He knew the longer you went without improvement, the less likely it became you would heal. Cass heard the hushed conversations Mor and Azriel held outside your door, discussing what to do should the worst happen, Cauldron forbid.

It was on that fourth day that Cassian reached a tipping point. He heard the door creak open behind him, imagining it was Amren who would be sitting with him, based on the previous days' schedule.

What Cass had not anticipated was to see his High Lord approach the bed and pull a chair up on the opposite side of your bed. It was obvious to see the prominent dark circles that overtook Rhys's normally bright face, and the way his body and seemingly sunk into itself. But Cass could not bring himself to care for his brother's guilt or be the first to utter a word.

With a wave of his hand, Rhys summoned a tray of food for Cassian, and only sighed when he rejected the peace offering. Finally, Rhys found a sliver of courage and was the first to break the silence.

"Madja has yet to make headway on identifying the poison y/n was hit with, but she is not giving up. None of us are." he offered, unsure of how to breach the subject.

Rhysand could only imagine what Cassian was experiencing. The pain of losing Feyre had been so immense, but in a twisted sense, at least it had been quick. A blink of an eye and she was gone. Rhys didn't think he would have been strong enough to sit vigil, feeling her fade through the bond with each passing minute.

"Stop looking at me like she's already gone." Cass growled, eyes darkening towards Rhys.

"Brother, I only want to help her, and to support you."

"I think you've done quite enough. It's your fault she's even in this position to begin with." he spat, enjoying the way that Rhys flinched at his words.

"Now that's not fair, Cassian." Rhys tried to counter. "I never asked her to that for me."

Cass could only scoff at the High Lord's response. "Of course, you didn't have to ask. You're the fucking High Lord, of course she was going to risk her life for you. Isn't that we all do here?"

"All of you, y/n including, knew what you were getting into, what the dangers were, when you swore allegiance to my court. You don't get to throw that back on me. You think this doesn't hurt me just as it hurts you?"

"No, it fucking doesn't!" Cassian screamed, his blood boiling at this point. "Because you use us like your puppets to protect you and your mate-"

"Careful how you continue, Cassian." Rhysand warned, not caring for slander against his mate, even in Cass's state of grief.

"Ever since this "death bargain" you and Feyre struck, it's like the rest of us don't matter. All we do is making sure your asses aren't killed because Cauldron forbid the saviors of Prythian are stolen from us." Cassian blazed on. "Yes, you've lost your mate before, Rhys, but she came back to you, and you to her.

"Who will remake y/n if she can't fight this? You and your High Lady are so far up on your pedestal that you don't know what it's like for the rest of us. Yes, we understood what our duties would entail, but that doesn't mean we have to continue to stand for this." Cassian spat, finally allowing years of pent-up fear and anger to spill over.

With one last, murderous, glare, Cassian turned his back on Rhysand, letting his words ring out for all in the House to hear. His wings stretched out behind him, hiding both you and he from Rhys, the Night Court, and the rest of the world. If it was to only be the two of you against everyone else from that point on, so be it.

part 2

oOoOo

a/n: part 2?

[soaringwide]

Pick a Card: What makes you feel alive and inspired in life?

PILE 1 🩷 > PILE 2 🩵 > PILE 3 ❤️

We are all driven by different things, and it's easy to lose track of that when you are distracted by the noise of the world.

Today, I want to look at what lights up your spark, what makes you feel alive and inspired in life.

Whether you want to simply get to know yourself better, or get a little reassurance in a difficult time, this reading is meant to be empowering and uplifting, and help you remember what makes life feel soulful for you.

Remember that this is a general reading meant for many people. Take what resonates and leave out the rest. Never forget that you are the leader of your own life and you make the call on what you want to do, believe and think, or not.

If you like my style, feel free to check out my paid readings on ko-fi or the link bellow.

book a reading ★ all PACs ★ pinned post ★ instagram

PILE 1 🩷

Cards: The River, Ace of Cups, Judgement, the Devil, the Hermit, 3 of Pentacles

Life is a flowing journey for all, but you take it to heart.

You feel the most alive and inspired when you embrace what the great current of life brings to you in order to wash away the decaying parts of yourself and shed your old skin.

To you, life is all about transforming yourself. The Existential Grindstone putting pressure on what needs to change and forcing you to be born anew. You do not like being stagnant, for murky waters poison your sense of purpose. You like movement within yourself, and knowing that you are always growing, always learning and expanding.

You are not scared to go into the depths of yourself to face your own limitations and shortcomings. There is a humming in your heart, a whisper calling for change. You are an eternal student of life, dedicated to becoming a better person and experiencing life in its purest form: as a journey toward yourself. There is a well of patience and a vivid energy in you, merging wisdom gained from experience and the pure heart of youth.

There is a subnote about healing here, and I think, one some level, you feel the most soulful when you manage to shift things within you and witness the metamorphosis happening within yourself, so that you can sooth your pains and let go of the past. I see you being hyper aware of the darker or heavier aspects of yourself, and you are not scared of them because you know that within them lie the opportunity to bring more light, to expand and rise above. To break the chains stopping you from feeling truly alive.

I also believe that you wish for a fairer world, and that you know that it all start with yourself. And while appearing very in tune with your deeper self, which implies holding the most tender part of yourself secret, I know that you do not lose sight of the world around you, and that by building yourself, you can help build a better world too.

You will feel unaligned with life when you swim against the current. The world is a river carrying you and connecting us all, and in this life, you will feel the most alive and inspired when you accept to flow with it, to let events and people shape you, helping you build yourself, helping you write your own unique story.

PILE 2 🩵

Cards: The Castle, Death, 4 of Wands, the Lovers, Page of Pentacles, 10 of Cups

For this pile, I'm getting that you are well aware of the illusions of materialism and consumerism, and that you don't want to get lured in by dulling comfort and shiny luxuries. Most people accumulate things to build walls around them and to fill the void inside their soul, and it is possible that you were like that at some point, but you realized it led nowhere and embraced a deep change of your way of living and experiencing life.

I think your soul craves simplicity and honest connections with people, and that you feel the most alive when you manage to break away from the decadence of our post modern way of living next to each other (rather than truly together) and obsession with accumulating senseless things. "Why do we constantly need more, and when is more ever enough?" Could be a pretty significant idea for you and something your draw inspiration from.

You see this issue clearly and feel inspired by the dream of a more authentic and open world, and world that you could share with people you love and cherish.

It's like you want life to be a great party where everyone is equal and we all have enough to live and love freely, and when you manage to dive into that, do your part on your level, you feel invigorated, inspired and alive. It's also possible that you seek situations that encourage this feeling and feel inspired by that. Little moments of truth stolen from the surrounding madness that you see in the world.

I think connecting with people, from friends and family to heartfelt exchanges with strangers, is so important to you and make you feel soulful, and I see you either dreaming to have your own love nest (family of any kind, or community), or already having it and feeling the happiest when you can share these simple and authentic moments with your loved ones.

Life is a gift to be experienced with others, what is the point of living if only for yourself?

PILE 3 ❤️

Cards: The King, the Magician, 10 of Cups, 4 of Cups, 7 of Wands, Ace of Wands, Strength

You are someone who feels the most alive when you can lead the way and leverage your influence, skills and knowledge for the greater good and happiness of those around you.

You have a strong and proud soul, a regal heart and you know you can do lot of good with your positive influence, be it by protecting, leading or inspiring others to do more and better.

You are highly motivated and dedicated to make your wishes happen in the world. You feel highly stimulated when you are pushed to overcome struggles and obstacles, when you can rise above and prove yourself. You are highly resilient and will not let others make you feel small and weak. On the contrary, I think that inspires you to expand and become a greater version of yourself.

For you, time spent waiting passively for life to bring you what you want is wasted time. You find indecision and uncertainty distasteful and always strive to become more. The world will not open its doors for you if you do nothing, and you find that extremely stimulating and it gives you a sense of purpose that make you feel alive.

You might be someone who collects hobbies and passion because you enjoy learning and expanding your range of skills. You feel the most alive when you feel busy and can work hard on something you set your mind to. You want to be a master at many things, and you enjoy the process of reaching that point more than the actual end of the journey.

You want to be able to show the world all that you have accomplished, and it's pushing you forward and keeping your inspired.

[thatlittlered]

i want you | logan howlett

warning(s): afab!reader if you really squint, cursing, immense and unbelievable heartbreak, spoilers for Logan (2017)

GIF by anonymous

author's note: I'm back where I came from writing x-men fanfiction and naming chapters after songs, life has truly come full circle. I could sit here and write some smut, talk about how much I want lick Logan (Hugh Jackman in general) from head to toe, OR I could break all of our hearts so guess what I chose :)

This is going to be a series so let me know if you want to be tagged.

-.-.-

It’s embarrassing; shameful, but he needs to have something.

Charles has to know about this little habit, somewhere in his few moments of clarity.

It’s practically morning when he comes back from work, but the water is running. He lingers; he always lingers when he realizes it’s you behind that door. He tells himself it’s typical animal behavior, he’ll guard you like the dog he is.

Today he’s not even good at that. His legs can’t hold him up any longer.

His feet take him to your room.

It’s probably the only part of this godforsaken place that smells nice. Almost feels like a real home in here, with your fresh cotton sheets and plush comforter. He won’t sully them, so he sits on the floor instead – a proper dog.

He should just fucking die already. Just send you off to a better life and die.

It’s what he deserves and long overdue.

You wouldn’t leave him though, and you most definitely wouldn’t leave Charles, or to be exact, what measly bits are left of both of them.

What a fucking waste.

You find him asleep there. Exhaustion took over when he leaned back against your bedframe, yet his body doesn’t seem at rest. Where can peace be found if not in sleep?

You sit next to him, now clad in soft pajamas and he’s already awakened by the smell of your shampoo before you call out to him.

“Logan?”

He blinks once, twice.

Even his eyes are not working properly these days. Always a little out of focus.

“Are you alright? Are you hurt?”

He gives a half-grunt and moves to get up, but a brave hand on his thigh stops him. He surrenders to your insistence and the warmth of your fluffy carpet under him.

“I’m fine, just tired.”

“Of course, you are. You never sleep.”

He doesn’t answer.

“You can take my bed if the problem is the mattress.”

You watch him pinch his nose. Can’t be sure if he’s annoyed at you or himself.

“It’s not the fucking mattress, sweetheart, alright? I’m rotting from the inside out, no bed on earth can change that.”

You don’t quite know what to say to that.

It’s no secret to any of you that Logan has been struggling as of lately. He won’t speak of it, won’t ask for help. He's Atlas and the world is slipping.

“Did you need something?”

He doesn’t look you in the eye anymore, you notice.

“I was just checking up on you with how much time you spend in the shower. What do you even do in there?”

“I like it. It makes me feel normal.”

Logan merely hums in response. His hand reaches for the flask inside his pocket in a well-practiced motion.

“Is that whiskey?”

Of course it is.

You can make out his little smirk in the dim lighting. The odd little bit of humanity left in him that you always seem to attract. The tenderness they’ve tried time after time to rid him of.

“Can I have some?”

He watches you drink and lick your lips clean; admires your little frown at the taste. Decades alive and you’ll never grow used to it.

Your hands brush as you hand it back—an intentional act on your part—and he jumps. A shiver runs through him when it turns into a caress. Your hands are so much softer, so much gentler. A feather touch on his knuckles where the pus has begun to gather.

He should just fucking die.

“You should cut down on your hours. I can get a job, something part-time.”

His laugh is angry. It’s cruel and unnecessary.

He doesn’t mean to make you feel bad, but what does it matter?

“No need, bub. No point in it either.”

“You can’t go on like this, you know that.”

He drinks and drinks until the flask is almost empty.

“You should go somewhere else entirely; somewhere they won’t find you easily. Maybe your trouble will be worth something there.”

Maybe you’ll even have a life there.

“Is that what you think? That I’m here out of necessity?”

Logan chuckles, but there’s no humor in it.

“That’s why we’re all here, doll, but you- it could work. You should leave.”

Leave him. Never look back.

“It won’t. I won’t – I can’t.”

Something invisible tugs at his heart. Your glassy eyes, your loyalty.

Argos waited for Ulysses till death. For which master do you endure?

“For what? For whom, Charles? He’s barely even himself anymore, he doesn’t recognize you half the time. What’s the point?”

“So, he’s right, you’re just waiting for him to die.”

He falls silent again. The words cut deep.

“What about you, Logan?”

“What about me?”

“I should just leave you behind?”

It can’t be the heat, it has to be the alcohol, but the air is getting thicker in here.

He practically tears his suit jacket off. He’s usually nicer than this, always respectful of your efforts. The neat way you iron his shirts. Your ways of taking care of him.

The booze has started to get to him lately, as every other thing. He feels it now as it slurs his mind and speech. A shadow of his former self in every way.

It makes it even harder to look at you.

“I’m dead fucking weight. If you knew what’s right for you, you’d run and never look back at this shithole… you certainly don’t need me either.”

“I don’t stay because I need you, Logan. I stay because I love you.”

It’s hard to breathe. There’s unease in the way he holds your gaze and he almost looks small for a second. It doesn’t last. He’s quickly an animal again, now wounded and hurting. His growl is sign enough.

“Don’t say that.”

“Logan-”

You reach for his hand, but he doesn’t let you. He tries to stand up. His legs don’t listen.

What a pathetic excuse of a man he’s become.

You reach for him again when he lands back on your floor.

His voice is small and quiet, “Shit, sweetheart. You can’t fucking say that to me.”

He’s practically shaking in anger. Or sadness. Whatever this is, it’s overwhelming.

It’s easy to give up and lean into you; face landing on the softness of your middle.

“You can’t-you can’t say that to me.”

He can hear your heartbeat so clearly, it’s almost deafening when he presses his ear to your stomach. Everything hurts.

“I love you.”

You see his eyes close gently.

He wants to lose all his other senses, if only for this moment, if only to focus solely on the softness of your skin. The gentleness of your fingers when they gather in his hair.

“It’s okay, Logan.”

He only looks up when you take his face in your hands. You can feel his breath on you. All you can do is look at each other. His hand comes up to your shirt and lifts it, just enough for his lips to touch there – just this once.

He only needs this one thing and he’ll be good for the rest of his pitiful, miserable life.

“I have things I need to do.”

You only nod.

You offer your hand, but he doesn’t take it, drags himself upwards instead. The moment of weakness has passed.

“I’m going out. You should get some rest, don’t forget to lock the door.”

There is no point in arguing or asking where he’s going. He needs to be away from you.

“I won’t.”

He nods back at you, but avoids your eyes as he leaves. He’ll sleep in the car tonight.

Just this one little thing might be enough.

[sizzlingstarlightsky]

*Ribbed For My Pleasure

Azriel x Reader

Word count: 676

cw: smut without plot, fingering, fisting, slight shadow play, rough editing

Note: Can you find the meme?

His hands. Oh Gods his hands.

The texture of his fingers molding between your flesh. Working you like putty melted around his.

"You're so good bunny." Azriel purrs, shivering your spine.

"Sir," your voice raspy, gasping for your next moan, "Your hands- I love your hands."

Stillness.

"What- ?" Three scarred fingers still cocooned in you warmth. The male was too stunned to speak.

Flushed, airy, "They're ribbed, for my pleasure... fuck please please keep going sir?" Waves of confusion spiraling your mates lust coated eyes.

You've been watching him. Admiring the ways he flexes his fingers while writing or holding a fork. ...cutting his food- gods you just needed to know what it felt like. If his fingers were this delicious, how was the rest of the meal?

"Fist me Az. I wanna feel you down your forearm. Fuck... your scars feel divine sliding in and out of me."

As his fingers started to fall back into rhythm, the air fills with the sounds of your lewid orcestra once again. "Are you sure Angel?"

"Please. I need it"

"Well, then let's see how good of a girl you are."

The momentary loss of his skin being repleaced with the pressure of more digits aligning themselves to your entrance coiled something so deep, so primal in the base of your stomach. Tickling your very soul and being. "I'm ready. Give it to me sir."

The pressure. The texture. Fuck. It felt like being torn open and sown back together by the hairs of a God. Four fingers in, three knuckles deep, thumb teasing your opening. His thick moan ripping the oxygen from your blood. "You take me so well bunny. Look at you fucked out with my hand deep in your womb."

Bliss. That's all you could feel. All that you were. At the hands of your mate, grinding down to his wrist, feeling him- needing him inside you. If you asked him to put his head in he would find a way. Just as addicted to each other as you were decades ago when the mating bond was accepted. You'd try just about anything with one another.

Azriels growls grew as his thumb finally slid inside. Scar tissue pressing against your walls, creating rippled screams of please from your thoat. Shadows curling around your body to get a better view, playing with your nipples and clit. Finding any contact they could to add to your pleasure.

Mate. Must please our mate.

One hand fisting your sopping wet cunt, one gripping your jaw, Azriel leans inbetween your neck. Leaving a trail of kisses from your earlobe to your collarbone. Evenetually finding shelter in the crook, he bites down. Marking his mate. Taking his claim.

"So good baby. Just like that- fuck your so beautiful."

"Az... Sir.. I.. I"m"

"Let go Y/N, cum onto my hand." That was your undoing. His raspy dark voice, his delicately rough hands, the pulse of love and adoration being shot through your chest. It was all too much. Arching against the bed you scratch at Azriels shoulders. Screaming as your release dances down the ridges of his skin. Skin intertwined with yours.

" You did so well my love" Wispers of praise help ease you as your come down settles. Bringing your mind back to reality.

"Don't leave yet. Please"

"I'd never leave you bunny. I should take my hand out, but I'm not going anywhere." With a whine of displeasure, Azriel begins to slowly pull his arm out of you. The shadows bring over a towel, cleaning you up before tossing it to Azriel. Allowing their singer to clean himself in your esseence. You were as much their mate as he.

"Drink sweetheart" handing you a cool glass of water the sleep starts to hit your eyes "Let's get you cleaned up. These sheets desperatly need to be changed or we'll be sleeping in a waterbed." Kissing the top of your head Azriel carries you into the bathroom, ever the loving mate. "I love you Y/N"

"I love you Azzie"

[happiest-hotch]

OMG please write about married!Hotch x reader going to a club tearing it up on the dance floor for a BAU night out, and an older Jack happens to be there maybe with his girlfriend and he’s mortified seeing his parents really getting down?

i would dance all over this man

Nights out with the BAU have never gotten less fun. Even as team members changed and through the years you and Aaron were away from the team, first in WITSEC then just to take a break. The plan formulated during your months together in hiding had been to wait until Jack was at college before going back to work

Hanging out at the regular bar was a sign nothing had changed in a decade.

After finishing probably the roughest case you've experienced since you rejoined the team, a team night out was needed, so you happily join Penelope in her mission to drag everyone out.

These days, Aaron doesn't need much convincing. He's more casual after WITSEC, and letting loose a little around the team isn't the worst thing in the world. It probably helps that he's not the boss anymore, and your unit chief also isn't opposed to letting her hair down.

He's only a few drinks in when you're able to convince him to come and dance. Maybe there's some using how much he loves you, but he doesn't protest.

It's hot and sweaty on the dance floor, and you're in a less-than-professional amount of clothing, dancing up on your husband like you're 24.

Aaron keeps his hands firmly on your hips, swaying to the music with you, but what's most sinful is his lips against your neck, very visible to everyone else, and the hard-on in his pants which thankfully remains unnoticed by anyone who's not pressed as hard against him as you are.

Penelope leans over to speak to you, or yell, thanks to how loud the bass is. "He's going to pull a muscle if he keeps dancing like that!" She jokes.

You giggle as you let him spin you around so you're face to face. It's gotten much more heated, and there's no doubt you're grinding provocatively against each other.

You hold his strong forearms, leaning up to whisper something downright filthy in his ear, but he talks first. "Jack."

You chuckle, grimacing. "That's not my idea of dirty talk."

"No." He shakes his head before nodding across the room. "Jack's here."

You pull away from your husband quickly, following his glance across the room before you catch his son. "What's Jack doing here?" You ask in shock. It's definitely a compromising position to be caught in with his dad.

"I don't know," Aaron says, taking hold of your hand and pulling you away from the dance floor and towards his son.

You briefly wonder if it's more or less awkward to acknowledge that he's seen you all over each other. Ignoring it might mean you can possibly look Jack in the eyes again at some point in the next ten years.

There's a girl next to him and you guess it's who he had said he was bringing home to meet you and Aaron during summer vacation. Her dress is probably not what she was expecting to be wearing during a round of meet-the-parents.

"That was awful." Jack deadpans, exactly like his father. "Seriously, I'm not sure how I'm going to burn that out of my memory."

"What are you doing here?" Aaron asks, ignoring the comments that you're struggling not to laugh at.

"Thought you guys were still on a case," Jack explains. "I didn't think I'd catch you dry-humping in a club."

You let out a chuckle while Aaron shakes his head. "Don't say that." He scolds weakly.

"I am so sorry you had to meet them like this." Jack turns to the girl next to him and says.

You offer out your hand to shake hers. "I'm Y/n, and I promise we're not always like this."

Aaron shakes her hand as well, introducing himself. "Yeah, usually our son has far better manners and introduces us to people."

"Usually, my parents aren't engaging in foreplay in the club." Jack teases you both.

You know how to get him back, and you click your tongue. "You don't know that."

It makes both boys' eyes widen while Jack's girlfriend laughs slightly, and the tension is loosened.

"Should we not mention this tomorrow?" She offers, speaking more confidently now that she can read the situation as humorous.

"Deal." You agree for both you and Aaron. "We should go."

"Home to sleep." Jack finishes the sentence for you, raising his eyebrows like a parent would do to their child, rather than the other way around.

Aaron does something you don't expect, frowning. "No promises."

[thesilmarillionblog]

𓏲 𓂃 L o s i n g Y o u

Part:𝟷𝟺

Click here to read the first part.

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

Pairing: Soldier Boy / Reader

Warnings: Language, angst, PTSD, violence, suspense, hurt, Soldier Boy gets hurt,

Word Count: 4433

A/N: English is not my first language.

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

Whispering “Earving?” once more, you trailed him to shadowy spots where fewer people were present. Though you knew you would have to deal with this eventually, you couldn't help but feel uneasy about what lay ahead.

When he halted, you took care to keep your distance.

You walked up to him and asked, “Why are you not talking to me?” to let him know you weren't a threat and that all you wanted to do was communicate. “Did you know what happened to me?”

Your eyes widened in suspicion as he examined you from head to toe before you told him anything further. To your surprise, Earving lifted his hand and pulled his blades from his back in a menacing manner. 

Your heart was pounding as you whispered, “What the hell are you doing?” It also hurt you to see him preparing for a fight, and you shook your head in disbelief. “Don't you ever try it.” 

You immediately defended yourself with your fists when he struck you with his blades, as though he were going to cut your skin. Thank goodness for your training sessions with Ben; you were starting to feel a little better and in shape. 

Earving attacked your legs again, forced you to the ground, briefly restrained you, and attempted to strangle you. But you reclaimed your hands from his gloved ones, struck his masked head, and violently shoved him on the ground. 

You said, “The company lied to everyone,” before he struck you once more. I'm not a traitor." 

Even though you tried to persuade him that neither you nor the government were your enemies or vice versa, he didn't seem to be listening to you and kept attacking you even though he knew you were still stronger than him. 

You shoved his head hard against the wall in front of you, forcing him to think straight. “I'm not blaming you for what happened,” you blurted out. “I just want you to know I'm still your friend. I understand your reasons about why you didn't visit me or try to save me.” 

After you hit his head against the wall a few times, he managed to break free from your hold and push you back until your back cracked the wall and made a hole in it. 

“What the hell, Earving?” Your t-shirt tore from your stomach to your chest as you screamed at him in aggravation. “You must hear what I'm telling you because I am speaking the truth. Vought lied about me to you and to everyone else, and they studied my body for decades in a lab to make the next supe generation better, to make it perfect.”

You said, “For God's sake,” fighting back tears as you were overcome by all that had transpired so quickly. Your hands balled into fists as you prepared for yet another blow. “If you attack me again, I swear I'm going to leave a huge amount of fucking damage on you.”

When his phone started ringing, Earving saw your rage rising and plunged his blades into his back once more. Before you could even respond, he vanished into the darkness once more. 

After you hurried back to the van without drawing attention from civilians, Frenchie noticed your torn t-shirt and messy hair and wrapped his hands around his head, practically yelling, “Mon Dieu, where did you go? What on earth happened to you?”

After sitting down next to him and seeing the screen in front of you, you muttered, “Nothing,” as you looked around for Kimiko. 

“Clearly, it's not just 'nothing.' Have you been spotted by anyone? Have you had a fight?” 

“No,” you instantly told a lie. You didn't know if this was the correct moment to discuss the actual events that transpired. 

Frenchie looked at you, her eyes narrowing. “You look like you've just had a fight,” he questioned. 

“I told you nothing happened,” you yelled angrily, feeling ashamed as the table beneath your hand began to crack. God. You were hopeless. But you remained outraged and wounded by everything that went on. Why would Earving even behave in such a manner? 

Frenchie placed his hands in the air and muttered, “Alright, alright,” in a calm but terrified voice. “I'm not going to ask any questions anymore.”

Though you chose to speak with him at a later time, you felt awful for using your position of power to frighten someone who was clearly weaker than you and was only attempting to carry out his own duties. 

With concern, you questioned, “Is Kimiko okay? I can help her if it's needed.”

“No,” Frenchie said, displaying his happy expression on the TV. “Pay attention to her remarkable speed and talent. Kimiko is a unique lady.”

Your eyes darted around the busy street, your super-hearing tuned in to every sound, and you continued to stare at the screen in front of you. Memories of your surprise altercation with your former best friend flashed across your memory. Why would he ever attack you like he actually wanted to kill you? Was Ben correct when he said Earving was only loyal to Vought and no one else? 

It was painful that, despite everyone's lack of loyalty toward you, you continued to show loyalty to those who had previously betrayed you and stabbed you in the back. You couldn't decide if you or they had a problem. Either you were difficult to understand, or it was simply difficult to love you. 

“She's done,” Frenchie remarked as he opened the door and prepared to go. Kimiko gave him a quick shoulder pat. 

“Let's fucking go.” 

It would be better if you called Ben at home. 

Ben's footsteps sped up to Herogasm as his eyes looked for TNT Twins. You were quite correct to despise this accursed and abnormal place. He was very into public sex, threesomes, gangbang while high, and all things associated, so he had enjoyed the twisted notion when he found it with Stormfront Bitch, but now it seemed like a new room straight out of hell. God was fucking missing from this place. Even though he occasionally wanted to, at least he was relieved that he refrained from joining it while he was with you.

If he was being completely honest with himself, he was a little afraid of his own physical needs when Butcher told him they were going to Herogasm the day before since he hadn't fucked anyone since he was free. Besides, he wasn't used to taking himself in hand so frequently without fucking someone for so long, even if he jerked off like a fucking teenager two or three times a day. He felt much better, though, knowing that he had no feelings at all regarding anyone or anything related to Herogasm. 

At this point, Ben was positive he would never want to visit this absurd place again. But as soon as he could, he had to fuck you raw.

Ben can't argue that he felt much safer having faith in you about anything because he was aware of your unwavering devotion to him in spite of everything he had done.

After all, loyalty to him was the most important thing in a partnership, and two people being devoted to one another was sufficient for a lifetime of companionship.

He was still thinking about your exposed ass from your nightdress, remembering how you appeared on the bed this morning. He was surprised at how effortlessly, and without even trying, you could make him rock hard. Getting on top of you, ripping off your underwear, and sliding into your swollen cunt would be so fucking easy. But in reality, it wasn't that simple.

Feeling his hardness returning over your thought, Ben muttered, “Oh, fuck.” 

Ben scowled and picked up the smoke bomb that had suddenly been thrown between his legs, thinking it could help him become a little high or divert his attention. 

“Halothene,” he said, glancing at the man who had thrown it to him. “What were you going to do with that?” 

The man repositioned himself, bracing himself for combat. Ben took a step toward him and sighed. The man's heart was pounding uncontrollably. 

“Not him,” Butcher stated firmly. 

Ben immediately nodded to Butcher. Anyhow, he was not in the mood to murder someone who was weak. 

He took a deep breath and tried not to get furious when his eyes eventually spotted the TNT Twins. When Ben saw their eyes widen in fear, he grinned. They were obviously taken aback to see him again. 

“Soldier Boy,” they muttered in tandem as they looked to one another for the right words. “It was Noir's idea; you must know that.”

“Was it?” Ben inquired as he gently inched closer to them, his shield tightening around his hand. 

The woman answered, “Yes,” quite quickly. “And the Crimson Countess. They conspired to deceive Y/N and you as well.”

He said TNT Twins, “Noir can't even shit without Vought's permission,” after hearing your name. “Did you know that she spent decades in a lab having her body studied? Did you know that Vought intentionally deceived everyone?” 

The sister asked, “Why does it matter?” before the man spoke.”All we did was follow instructions. Not that we desired to, though.”

They were aware of it. Ben shut his eyes and inhaled deeply, careful not to blow this place up. “You two will speak up against Vought to the media, tell them what they did to me and Y/N, and tell me where the fuck is Mindstorm. You two will come with me and fucking fix what you have done. If not, I'm fucking going to kill you both.” Ben spoke in a ferocious manner, clearly threatening them. 

They cried out in shock, “Fuck no,” sounding as though they would sooner die than stand up to Vought anyway. 

They locked hands and prepared to strike him, acting as though they would only cause minor harm to his body. The Russians did their best to harm him; of course, none of them worked. Ben was in disbelief that he used to work with the world's most worthless and foolish superheroes. 

Ben's supe hearing was triggered by a Russian song played by another supe in a different room before he spoke. He attempted to contain himself, and his palm closed tightly around his shield and closed his eyes. 

But the enormous power that was beginning to emerge was much bigger than him at that precise moment because of the horrific memories from the lab he had spent decades confined to. Ben's final thought before blowing up the entire place was of you. He should never have come here without you.

Once you were in your room, you decided to give Ben a call after some time had passed. You were informed that the person you called could not be reached at that time. You threw the phone on your bed and yelled, “Asshole,” out of anger. 

The damage had already been done when Ben awoke. Fuck it. This time, he had made an extremely serious mistake. He was sure he'd be on the news tonight. 

A man across the room likewise appeared to have a strange cape when Butcher came to approach Ben. 

“Soldier Boy and William Butcher,” he murmured. Ben and Butcher exchanged looks. “Oh, god. You were behind this. This whole thing was your idea. William, we made a deal with you to fight to the death. You and me.”

Ben struggled to figure out what was going on between them as Butcher offered him a confident look. Homelander went on, “This is cheating. The deal is off.” 

Homelander's gaze lasered Butcher against the wall as soon as he finished his speech. Ben sighed after giving Butcher a quick glance. 

“You were my hero growing up; I have watched all your movies hundreds of times.” Ben offered Homelander a degrading grin as he spoke admiringly. The guy with the blonde hair had the worst suit ever. It was a shame.

“You were the only one who was as strong as me.”

“Buddy,” Ben said, not giving a damn about Homelander’s words at all. “You think you look strong? You’re wearing a cape. You’re just a cheap fucking knockoff.”

Homelander's jaw tightened, and his eyes grew enraged as Ben repeatedly insulted him. He was enraged hearing such stuff from the supe he idolized since he was a child.

“Oh, no, no,” Homelander responded without fear. “I’m the upgrade.”

When Homelander attacked, Soldier Boy started to punch him again and again, but Homelander was well-trained too; he was indeed as good as Ben in combat skills. He wasn't like the weak supes in Payback; Homelander was indeed built different. However, this didn't make Ben feel a thing at all. Homelander was just another supe who was just more than a bit easy to deal with. That's all. In fact, it would be a good training for Ben to warm up.

Ben briefly lost control of the momentum and gave Homelander the advantage as they continued to hit one another. Ben looked on in confusion as Butcher rose and then lasered Homelander as well. 

“What have you done?” Confused, Homelander murmured. 

Ben stood up, yanking Homelander by his useless cape and violently throwing him against the wall as he ascended in the air, and their lasered eyes engaged in combat. 

Following Homelander's escape, Butcher and Ben struck him simultaneously, shattering the wall behind them. 

Homelander tried to laser Hughie after he broke up the brawl in his nude form, but Hughie was too fast for him. 

Ben effortlessly grabbed Homelander by the arm and pushed him to the ground, keeping him there while Butcher and Hughie also helped him. 

Butcher yelled, “Do it,” as Ben attempted to go full force this time. 

Ben pushed himself to concentrate on the enormous power shining behind his chest, but for some reason he was unable to release it. His tendency to explode when he didn't mean to was annoying, but he couldn't use his new abilities when he needed them. Perhaps it was because, just moments before, he had already blown up. 

Homelander groaned like an animal under threat when he realized he was going to be slaughtered by them. With a single, fierce roar, he drove everyone from his body as he fled away. 

With a mumble of curses, Butcher turned to face the sky. 

Ben didn't give a fuck at all, even if he was eager to kill Homelander while he knew he had more pressing problems at hand. Murdering Homelander was easy to do. However, he had to seize control of the company and turn the tables as quickly as possible. 

Ben grabbed the phone out of his pocket to try to call you as he stood up and straightened his suit, but it didn't work. 

Ben growled, “Fuck this,” and turned to face Butcher. “Call Y/N right now.” 

Butcher said, “Give me some slack, for God's sake,” as he got up and brushed off the dust from his coat.

Ben snatched the phone from Butcher's hand as soon as it began ringing and gave him a cold glare while Hughie and he pleaded with him to get out of there. 

Ben, who was a little nervous, walked to the car quicker than Butcher and Hughie. 

Ben muttered, “Give me a fucking moment,” as Butcher and Hughie entered the vehicle and looked at him. 

It had only been an hour since you went to sleep when your phone rang. You answered it while you rubbed your eyes and exclaimed, “What?” 

You had cried uncontrollably because of what transpired between you and Earving, since you hadn't anticipated his treachery to be that severe and brutal. 

Ben said, “I guess I couldn't give you a call because my battery is dead. Are you now at home?” 

Your eyes widened with suspicion. “How unlucky!” you murmured in a sour tone. “And yes.”

“Something terrible happened,” he sighed. You were scared by the underlying fragility in his voice, which made you feel no longer sleepy. He whispered your name and continued, “I messed up badly.” 

Your heart raced, and you temporarily forgot about your own issues as you were anxious at hearing an unsettling and insecure tone in his voice. You prepared yourself to receive the worst news. “What did you do this time?” 

Ben's jaw tightened at your disappointed complaint. Even though he was making an effort, it had been a while since he had disappointed someone with such severity, making him feel like a total failure. Ben parted his lips to speak, but he truly had no idea what to say or how to convince you that he wouldn't let you down the next time. He knew that had become one of his professions nowadays. 

“Well, let's talk when I come home. We're going to head out, so I suppose I'll be there by morning.”

He immediately hung up the phone without waiting for you to say anything more. He was a little embarrassed by his unpredictable actions and wasn't sure how you would respond. In the meantime, he would be thinking about this. 

You sighed and attempted to return to sleep, but it took you an hour to put your issues aside and allow your ailing body to rest.

Instantly opening your eyes and got off the bed upon hearing a door close in the room next door, you realized it was Ben.

You knocked on his door and said, “Ben?” even though it was still open.

He turned to face you after putting his shield next to his bed and said, “You don't have to knock it. You are welcome to show up at any time, sweetie.”

Even if he was attempting to make jokes to rile you up, his tone was anything but funny and suggested that he was distressed.

You approached him and gently closed the door, asking, “Can we talk now?” 

He also approached you and gave you a hug after leaving his chest material on the table, preventing you from speaking. You let out a sound as his fingers gripped your back firmly, and his chest seemed warmer than before. You held back your hug, but you also didn't press for an answer in the hopes that he would calm himself down and tell you. 

You attempted to ignore his fingers as they moved over your body, but your chin lingered on his muscular shoulder. You were surprised that he wasn't trying to make sexual contact with you, and you wondered what had happened to make him act that way while you were apart. 

"I missed you," Ben said softly,

Ben has always hated to say things like this and felt like the helpless, weak men in the movies, but he couldn't help but feel overwhelmed since he knew you needed his help and he kept failing you repeatedly even though it wasn't his intention. Ben hesitated to admit that he needed you more than ever because he knew that if you had been there, you could have stopped him from using his freshly developed powers to explode and kill some people.

If he could simply kidnap the TNT Twins and make them speak negatively about the company, then that would also be a great opportunity for you. They would also provide him with information regarding Mindstorm, which can be beneficial in your case. 

His body stiffened as he breathed in your hair. 

He aggressively remarked, “You smell something different,” smelling you a little more forcefully this time. “Like someone I know.”

You put your arms around his biceps and murmured, “Quit smelling me and calm down,” as you didn't make him feel angry. He appeared as though he was about to lose it. “I'll tell you when you tell me about what happened in Herogasm.”

“I blew up the entire place.”

“Ben!” you said, pushing his hands aside as your shocked eyes grew wider. “Why?”

His voice was dry as he spoke hurriedly, “I didn't mean to.” While you waited for him to continue, Ben looked around and considered how to explain everything. He then remarked, “It's... the same thing happened in Midtown. I was speaking with TNT Twins about Vought and attempting to persuade them to voice against it.”

His eyes went dark, as if he was uncomfortable and didn't want to continue. 

You placed a hand on his chest when you noticed he was having trouble with his inner thoughts, in an attempt to calm him down and encourage him to speak. You said, “And?” gently. 

“I heard a Russian song,” he furiously and unsettlingly declared. Placing his hand over yours to make sure you understood, he added, “I guess it's kind of a triggering thing for this thing to get activated.”

He interrupted you right away before you could say anything, saying, “I really tried to stop it. I did not mean to disappoint you or mess things up like this. Not at this particular moment.”

You muttered, “Don't worry about that. It wouldn't be the first time.”

“Yeah.” He gave you a small smile to lighten the situation and murmured to you, as if he were also trying to suppress the anger in your voice since he understood you had every right to speak in that manner. “However, I will speak with Butcher and ask him to locate Mindstorm as soon as possible in order to resolve your problem. Perhaps I might want to amend our agreement regarding Homelander.”

You muttered, “I don't know, Ben,” at a loss for what to do. “It's becoming uncontrollable. Tonight, everyone will be talking about you once more. First, we must figure out how to clean up this mess.”

He immediately raised his voice and said, “Fuck them,” not wanting to think about Vought or the media at all. “You do not think of such things. I'll soon have things under control. The first thing we need to solve is your situation about your powers, okay?”

“But why?” 

“Because you come first,” he stated with a serious attitude. 

Your cheeks heated a little under his focused look, and you retrieved your hands from him before heading to his bed and sitting to put an end to the intense moment. 

As you settled onto his bed, Ben's eyes narrowed, and he started thinking inappropriate things. You need to have spent the entire day and night beneath him, getting as much fuck as you both needed to make you tremble around his cock. 

As he began to remove his suit, including his pants, you were thinking about how to talk to him about yourself and Earving without irritating him. Ben didn't seem to care that you were in the room or that you were staring at him while he got undressed. 

He was putting on his gray sweatpants, and you were looking for a t-shirt when all of a sudden you stated, “I fought Noir.” 

“What the hell?”

He sat on the bed next to you and swiftly turned to face you. “When did this happen? How in the world did this son of a bitch track you?”

You murmured, “Calm,” as you noticed his veins starting to show. “Frenchie and I were in the van, and Kimiko had something to do. At that moment, I noticed him watching me from across the street.”

“Fuck, I knew from the way you smelt that bitter, like get into my nerves.” He questioned, without you even finishing your sentence, “And?”

You sighed as you noticed his growing impatience. “I wanted to talk to him, so I followed him until he stopped. I suppose I was naive.” 

Even though you were feeling vulnerable just now, you went on. “He didn't say a thing at all, and I don't know why, but he attacked me.”

“Fucking betraying son of a bitch, I should have murdered him when I had the chance.” Ben's hands were fisted on the bed, and his mind was racing with ideas as he growled with fury. “Did he do something to you?”

“Of course not,” you said with a sorrowful inner smile. “He would never be able to hurt me, even if he tried a hundred times.”

You winked at Ben, and he laughed. It gave you some relief to watch him become more relaxed. 

Playfully, he asked, “You're a fierce thing, aren't you?”

“Sometimes,” you replied with a smug grin. Ben noticed that you looked sad, and that's when your thoughts of Earving flashed across your mind. 

“Hey,” he murmured. “Stop worrying about that cunning cocksucker. You see, he was always a puppet of Stan Edgar and Vought. It has nothing to do with you. This won't ever, ever change.”

With a nod, you examined his bedroom and replied, “Yeah, I can see it clearly now.”

He cleared his throat. “You know, you can sleep in here whenever you want. You see, my bed is pretty bigger than yours, obviously more comfortable.” 

You arched an eyebrow suspiciously and asked, “Are you thinking funny things?”

“It's something I would never dare do,” he grinned. 

When he mentioned sleeping, you couldn't stop yawning and felt your body preparing to go back to sleep. You were aware that he wouldn't touch you without your consent, following what transpired between you. 

You rested your head on one of the pillows and mumbled, “Ben,” your eyes nearly closing from sudden exhaustion. “Can we continue training tomorrow?” 

“Of course, sweetheart.”

⋆⋅☆⋆☆⋅⋆──────⋆⋅☆⋅⋆──────⋆⋅☆⋅⋆──────⋆⋅☆⋆☆⋅⋆

Ben felt his heart soften so much at the sight of you sleeping off in his bed that he felt as though he could soon lose his mind. It had only dawned on him that he needed to pay attention to such a minor thing. The amount of control you had over him when he awoke from decades of sleep was insane. Perhaps he had been blind and sleeping for a lot longer than he realized.

Next Chapter

A/N: I hope I didn’t fuck up this chapter, lol..And I know it is kind of slow, but I don’t want to rush things, since the reader went through a lot. Comments and reblogs are appreciated very much.  They keep me going. ♡˚.

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Losing You series Masterlist is here.

[sensitive-neuvi-enthusiast]

Day 12: Office Sex

♤♡-Pairs: Neuvillette x gn!reader

☆☆-Warnings: semi-public(someone's in the room), desk sex, stressed neuvi, male anatomy (for neuvi), dragon-like cock, cum, needy and messy neuvi, enjoy bbs (:

It could be said that the Chief Justice worked hard and nonstop. Rarely did he ever get the time for the two of you to enjoy eachothers company let alone time for intimate moments. He felt bad, but you always reassured him that you understood. That you wouldn't have agreed to date him otherwise. But with this, came...ideas and little experiments. Though he didn't have the time, you two sure made some. It was unconventional but honestly? It was hot. And after having not been touched for at least a decade, he couldn't be bothered to care.

Currently, he had you tucked underneath his desk. Your face a mess of cum and spit, licking fervently at his ribbed cock. His face was stoic, safe for a slight tinge of red on his cheeks. And honestly he should be listening to the officer, they were discussing a very important case right now. But the way your warm mouth wrapped around him again, he couldn't help it. His hand was tangled in your hair as he nodded, doing his best to pretend he was listening. He would just read the report later, it was fine.

"Monsieur Neuvillette..?" He blinked. Guess he spaced out more than he thought. "Apologies, another matter is on my mind. Leave the documents on the desk and I'll review them later." The officer nodded, doing as he instructed before leaving. Neuvillette rolled back, looking down at your form in between his thighs. His gloved hand rubbing at your cheek. "You're servicing me so well, but I know you're needy to. Come up from there."

He watched as you let go of him with a pop, rising to your feet. Turning slowly before laying yourself across his desk. He sucked in a breath, standing now as he rubbed at your ass. "Is this how you want it?" When you nodded, a small smile played on his lips. With a firm grasp, he guided himself inside you. And watched as his thick, ribbed cock split you open. Engulfing him so sweetly that he had to pause a few times so he didn't cum. No matter how many times you do this, he's just as sensitive as the first. "So warm," he commented, rubbing the flesh of your ass. Feeding more of himself inside you, he eventually bottomed out. Hissing as beads of sweat already formed on his brow. "Hold onto the table. You'll need something to ground you."

Pride swelled in his chest as he watched you do exactly as he said. And he didn't waste anytime either. His hips pulled and snapped forward, setting a delicious pace for the evening. The sound of skin slapping against skin filled the room. Mixing with the groaning of the desk, the papers being scattered and falling to the floor. A perfect melody, he thought. Accompanied sweetly with your moans and his whines. Praises falling from his parted lips. It honestly wouldn't take him long, you had been sucking at his cock for a good hour. In that hour, you'd made him cum twice. He was close just as the officer had left the room. "Hold tight, my love. I'm cuming." He voiced, his hands grabbing your hips as he sped up. His dick pulsating inside you until one particular thrust had him filling your insides. Neuvillette let out a pathetic moan as he rested against your back. Breathing heavily, his lips ghosting against your skin.

"Let's clean you up." He murmured, always making sure to take good care of you after these moments.

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[skyahri]

Remember P3 |SatoSugu X Reader| HC

Part Two - Part Four

A/N: Sorry it took so long! I was planning the story out and then I got this weird block and ugh. Enjoy!

- - - - -

Suguru sighs at the sight before him. You're passed out at your desk, contorted in an odd way that's sure to have your back hurting in the morning. There's empty cans of Redbull and worked through notebooks strewn about the area.

He should've known better than to fall asleep first. It's just past five am. He isn't sure how long you had stayed up after he eventually dosed off around midnight.

You had a habit of ignoring your basic needs and often relied on the people around you to set you straight, a quality he found both tragic and charming. Right now, he was just glad it was Saturday, so you didn't have to deal with the consequences during class.

He slides one arm under your awkwardly bent knees and the other under your back, tilting you towards him so you can fall into his broad chest. You hardly stir, and he has a passive thought about how easy it would be for a curse to catch you off guard right now.

His eyes wander briefly to the journals on your desk. He's a rational man, but surely anyone would be tempted to look, right? His future, his life, maybe even his death, hastily scribbled down in glittery purple gel ink right in front of him.

This could be his only opportunity to see what no one aside from you ever has. His only shot before they're sealed away in the school's catacombs, never to be seen by another again.

"Don't."

His destructive train of thought is quickly shut down with just one word. He swallows nervously, embarrassed to have been caught pondering something stupid. He peeks down at you. Your eyes are still closed, but your hand is resting on his chest, almost like a subtle warning of sorts.

He shifts you slightly, readjusting his grip to hold you more steady. You lull your head against him and breathe in his scent. He's wearing the same cologne he's had since your first year, the same one you could still smell on him after his death.

"You're awake, yet you let me carry you to bed like a child."

He's teasing you, trying to break the stiff atmosphere he's unintentionally created. You aren't sure if he was playing off his own behavior, or if he had sensed a change in yours, but you were grateful for it either way.

"I'm letting you take care of me. There's a difference."

He puffs a bit of air through his nose and turns around. He carries you over to your bed and sets you down, tucking you in under the covers before moving away. Despite the tight feeling in your chest, you allow him to leave without protest.

Maybe you should've asked him to stay, then you wouldn't be here, staring at your clock as the sun hits your face, only a power nap's worth of sleep in your system.

You feel heavy. Your body is stressed and rigid, yet your mind is going a mile a minute. There's only a month until the assimilation and you haven't a clue where to start to fix it, not to mention every other dire event that's sure to happen in the next decade.

You groan, rolling over and sitting up on the edge of the bed. You smack your hands on your face desperately trying to rid yourself of the exhaustion. It was going to be a long day.

- - - - -

Despite how the day started (or did yesterday even end?), today was rather nice. You have the day off to rest, giving you the opportunity to enjoy the nice weather. The incoming sunset is soft, painting the walls of the school a nice orange color and making the view a little more surreal.

The courtyard has always been one of your favorite places. You're lying underneath the giant tree, head in Geto's lap, and legs across Gojo. You're still tired and the boys are arguing, but neither are enough to ruin an otherwise perfect moment.

You wish Shoko were here right now, but even she's sent out to assist on missions from time to time. You know she'd be leaning over you, clicking away on her phone, scolding you for your 'unsightly public display of affection'.

"Picking a grass starter is stupid. They have the most weaknesses."

"Maybe if you learned to appreciate the game instead of only using attack moves, you'd realize grass has its advantages."

"Support moves are for chumps. Ain't that right, princess?"

"I don't know, Satoru, Treecko is pretty cute."

He scoffs and places his hand over his chest to feign heartbreak. You and Suguru laugh, bumping your fists together and poking fun at the other.

Satoru, in the height of his hissy fit, pinches your thigh. You jolt and pout at him. You reach up and steal his glasses away, putting them on and enjoying the break from the bits of sunlight that peek through the leaves.

"You tag team me and steal my shades? You owe me a future question."

"Ask away."

Honestly, he wasn't expecting you to agree to his absurd request. For the almost two years he's known you, he's begged and pleaded for you to share your dreams with him. It's all he asks for when the holidays come around and you always deny him.

He shares a look with Geto, who's looking back at him just as awestruck. You aren't looking at their faces, but you know there's a silent conversation happening between them, probably trying to figure out the best use of their only wish.

Satoru finally clears his throat and sits a little straighter. His suddenly mature demeanor piques your interest.

"What do I look like?"

Suddenly the interest is gone. Suguru punches his shoulder making him yelp. You pinch your eyebrows together, flick up the glasses, and stare straight into his eyes.

"You're a fucking idiot."

Despite the disappointment (or is it relief?) you feel, you give him what he wants. You sit up just enough to reach his face, placing your hands on his cheeks and pulling him down to place a chaste kiss on his forehead. Suguru swears he can see residual twinkles left on his friend's skin at the contact.

"What was that?"

"I showed him my memories. It's an extension of my gift."

You lay back down and watch as Satoru's eyes light up. You were careful not to reveal anything about your relationship with him, choosing to show some friendlier, more subtle tidbits. Unfortunately, though, not much can get past Satoru on the rare occasion he actually applies himself.

"I'm wearing a wedding ring."

It's a statement, not a question, and you're positive that it was intentional on his part. You curse yourself under your breath and rack your brain for a way to get yourself out of this predicament.

"Yes."

"So I'm married? To who?"

"Too bad you wasted your question. Guess you'll have to wait and find out like the rest of us."

You can feel your pulse racing, the blood roaring in your ears as you're struck with the grief of your past.

You can't tell him the history behind that ring. There's no doubt in your mind that he knows who wears the other ring(s?)- it's obvious given the strange dynamic he shares with you and Suguru.

But it's not that simple and you can't find it in yourself to crush any shred of hope he has about living a normal life.

You can't tell him that you'd gotten married in a courthouse at nineteen years old so you could take shared guardianship of Megumi and Tsumiki. You can't tell him the rings you wore were damn near symbolic, something you kept on as a front for his clan and to keep some sort of normalcy for the little ones.

You can't tell him how nontraditional your relationship is. That you shared a bed more often than you slept alone, but there were no I-love-you's even if the feelings were there. That with Suguru gone, neither of you felt complete, even when it was Sunday night and you were sitting at a full table with your kids, laughing and joking like the weight wasn't there.

He doesn't need to know that he doesn't get the normal life he's most likely envisioning, because you're going to do your best to change it. He deserves to have a wife, not whatever mixing pot of sex and longing that held you two together through the thick.

You're thankful for Satoru's glasses that conceal the tears you're trying to blink away. Suguru sets his hand on your chest, right over your heart. His touch is warm and calming. He's always in tune with himself and extends that pleasure to you and the white-haired dork lost in thought beside you.

"Why don't we go inside and watch a movie? It's getting dark and it's supposed to rain soon."

Satoru is very melodramatic- always has been and always will be. You've grown accustomed to the odd way he chooses to deal with feelings- pretending they don't exist and smothering the situation with a bright smile and some sweets.

But Suguru? Suguru was never like that. He's an open book, willing to have difficult conversations at the drop of a hat. He balanced you and Satoru out nicely, encouraging the pair of you to at least attempt to cope with your troubles instead of bottling them up.

Which is why it's so easy to allow your walls to crumble in his hold after just a single touch. It's so easy to curl into him and allow him to mother you relentlessly. To fall back into the same routine you haven't known for years. To relish in the feeling of finally feeling whole again.

He offers you his hand and helps you to your feet. He gently brushes the grass off of your backside and you hear a smack. A quick glance behind you tells you it was Geto slapping away Satoru's opportunistic hand from copping a feel under your skirt.

You laugh and tug the boys closer to you, wrapping your arms around their waists and leading them inside. Your cheerful mood has returned and nothing is going to strip it away- not even the two losers swatting at each other behind your back.

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