#I'm surprised i haven't seen anyone else talk about this

[justn0t]

I'm surprised how I haven't seen anyone else talking about how dark cacao lied to caramel here. I know this is going to come back to bite him because they put this part in intentionally, and you can see him hesitating to say it.

[lamentationsofalonelypotato]

You Call It Madness But I Call It Love

Chapter 21: Try to Understand

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

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

Word Count: 7.5K

Warnings: I'm gonna go 18+, I'm not sure that it needs it, but I'm still gonna do it. Angst, Talks of pregnancy, Talks of possible abortion, Cursing, Fluff, Sexual References, Graphic Nightmare?, FLUFF, Family Problems, Self-deprecating thoughts, Awkward Situations, 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

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Soldier Boy POV

After his shower, you still haven't come back from talking to Rosemary, and Ben decides that instead of eavesdropping on your conversation, he's going to go to the kitchen and get a drink. He knows exactly where Legend hides the good shit, mostly because Legend hid it to keep it away from Ben in the first place. And despite it happening forty years ago, nothing in Legend's house had changed. Ben had many memories of this house, at least two Herogasms had been hosted here, hell, Ben had memories in the room you two were sharing, but he kept them to himself.

The last thing he wanted was for you to think about any of the things that happened in the past, not when you had told him that he had made it up to you, not when you had held him close after all these years and whispered things to him that he always wanted you to say, and not when he was more happy than he'd ever been.

You said that you forgave him, Ben understood that, but that didn't mean he was going to stop making it up to you every day and it didn't mean that he was going to stop making you happy, because after all these years you were still the only thing he wanted, and he refused to lose you ever again.

He glances at the empty bottle on the nightstand, the one that you brought with you last night and the same bottle the two of you finished together.

He was surprised when you said you stopped drinking, but not completely. You'd only drunk socially as a supe, and Ben hadn't seen you drunk since the two of you were kids. He knew it was because you didn't want to lose control like he did.

Ben stutters on the memory of what happened in Mid-town, and what happened forty years ago when he threw a car through a house and killed an innocent bystander. Ben didn't believe he was a bad guy, he was a hero or- the memories of all the moments he lost control began to seep though the cracks- at least he thought he was.

His mind drifts back to you. You were always in control. The one time he'd ever seen you lose control was when you lost it at the premiere all those years ago. It was justified. Ben would have lost it too if he walked in on anyone fucking you. His jaw clenches at the thought, but then he remembers what you said last night, that there hadn't been anyone else, that you never wanted anyone else but him ever. It was surprising to him, that you hadn't moved on, even after all this time you still loved him the same way you always had and that there would never be anyone else.

Fuck. Ben took in a deep breath to avoid getting too excited remembering what you said, feeling warmth begin to build in his abdomen. It had been difficult to contain himself when you admitted that to him. If you had let him, he would have made love to you right then, made you feel things that no other man ever did, but you said you wanted to wait.

And Ben wanted to respect that, wanted to respect you.

He examines the empty bottle once more.

When you were younger he'd watch you get drunk on cheap beer that he bought you more than once, usually when you proclaimed that you could drink him under the table and then Ben had to practically corral you to get you home. Then again he liked those nights, when you'd try to sing, swing from light poles that lined the street, and you'd grab his hand and say crazy things like "let's run away" or "let's go egg Missy Callahan's house." Both of which Ben didn't need much more convincing to say yes, but the two of you never did.

He would have run away with you if you'd ever seriously asked him to, he would have dropped everything to leave, would have chosen you just as you chose him the night he showed up and asked you to go with him to get the serum. The promise he made to protect you and be strong for you the night you went with him was not new. He had repeated it to himself every day since the minute he realized how much you meant to him.

And he would continue to do it for the rest of his life.

Ben ascends the stairs, buttoning the Giants jersey that Butcher bought for him. He wasn't the biggest fan of them forty years ago, but it was one of the only shirts he had. And the last thing he wanted to do was walk around without a shirt on. Ben smiles to himself remembering your reaction when you walked in on him changing into his supe suit yesterday morning. He loved that you reacted to him that way, it was the same way that he reacted to seeing you yesterday when you were standing in your bathroom in only your bra, looking just as beautiful as you had forty years ago when he took you to bed and-

Fuck. Ben took in another deep breath finishing the last button to avoid thinking about you naked. It had been forty years for him and he knew that he was going to have to take it slow when it came to sex.

He stumbled into the kitchen and froze.

Lou was sitting at the square kitchen table that sat under a floor length window and looked out onto the sprawling backyard of Legend's property. Ben could see Rosemary and you talking at the very edge of where the grass met the thick woods beyond.

"Hi Ben!" Lou smiles wide at him. A giant box of crayons sits on the table just beyond her filled with every color known to man, while she scribbles in a sketchbook that looks suspiciously like the same ones that Ben had seen you buy for yourself in the past. "Do you know how to draw trees? Aunty y/n always does them for me, but she's talking to mommy."

"Um-" Ben clears his throat, fastening the last button of his shirt. Lou was smiling at him the same way you did, like she was genuinely happy that he was there, and he wasn't used to that. It was the same way you used to smile at him when he climbed through your bedroom window. He looks out the window to where you're still talking to Rosemary trying to find a way out, until finally he sighs. "No. I'm sorry."

"That's okay, mommy can't draw either." Lou looks back at her drawing while reaching for a brown crayon. She was wearing pink polka dot pajamas, pants and a shirt that matched. Ben had never seen pajamas like that before, but he supposed that pink was her favorite color, given that she was also wearing a pair of bright pink fuzzy slippers.

He couldn’t help but smile. He wondered if you hated how much Lou liked pink, if it reminded of those dresses your mother used to make you wear that always made you look like a giant iced birthday cake.

Personally, Ben didn’t think you looked that ridiculous, he thought that you looked cute, ruffly, but cute. You never believed him when he told you that.

Ben wandered over to the cabinet where he thought the whiskey was, but as soon as he opened it, he found the cabinet empty.

Did he fucking move it?

"It's under the sink." Lou said from behind him.

"What?" Ben turns around surprised.

Lou was still scribbling with her crayon in her sketchpad. "Uncle Legend came in and moved it this morning."

"Thanks." Ben awkwardly makes his way over to the sink, and sure enough behind the mop bucket is a full bottle of whiskey. He busies himself with pouring a glass before he eyes the chair next to Lou wondering if he should sit there.

Ben was nervous, he'd never admit it, but he was. This was his granddaughter, someone that you loved very much. He'd never been around a kid before, didn't have any siblings growing up, and certainly didn't have any relatives with children the way you had.

He liked to think that if he had been there when you were pregnant and when you gave birth to Rosemary he would have gotten used to it gradually. He wasn't sure if he could even be a dad, not after everything that happened with his own.

He was sure that he was going to be a disappointment to Rosemary and even to Lou and-

"Sit with me." Lou says, interrupting his train of thought as she gets off of her chair to pull out the one next to her for Ben tugging with all her strength to pull it out from under the table.

Ben hesitates, but finally smiles at her efforts to get him to sit with her and sits down.

An awkward silence falls over him, he's again unsure what to say, so he takes a sip from his glass and hopes that you'll come in and save him from saying the wrong thing, but given how upset you look standing outside with Rosemary, he's sure that it won't be anytime soon. The urge to go outside and get between Rosemary and you is strong, but just as he begins to move to get out of the chair, Lou interrupts him.

"You make her smile more." Lou says, while grabbing a red crayon with her chubby hand and begins to draw the petals of a flower in her sketchbook, meticulously trying to make them more circular, tongue between her teeth as she concentrates.

"Who?"

"Aunty y/n. She didn't smile as much before." She says it matter of factly.

"Really?"

Lou nods reaching into the box of crayons for a new color. "She tried to act like she wasn't sad, but I think she was. Sometimes when she thought I was asleep I would find her on the couch just sitting there. I think she was lonely. And I tried to give her bigger hugs but they never seem to work. Hugs always make me feel better." Lou sighs.

"I'm sure that your hugs made her feel better." Ben's says tightly. He's not sure how to talk to Lou, isn't sure if he should talk to her like an adult or not.

"I love aunty y/n. I want to be just like her when I grow up. I want to be an artist!"

Ben looks down at the sketchpad on the table beneath Lou’s hands. It was of a giant tree that had different colored flowers all squished together in its branches. Each flower was different than the last, crudely drawn, but under it all Ben could see her potential. It reminded him of the sketchbook pages you first showed him when you were eight and swore him to secrecy, threatening bodily harm if you told anyone else about them.

“You’re very good.” Ben says and Lou beams with pride at her drawing, before flipping to a new page. She holds out a brilliant yellow crayon towards Ben. “Please draw a sun right here.” She taps her finger against the top left of the page before placing the crayon in his hand.

“Oh I don’t think I-“

“You can do it Ben! Aunty y/n says that art doesn’t have to be perfect, that it gets messy sometimes but that makes it fun!” Rosie reaches for a purple crayon and begins to draw stick figures to the right of the page.

Ben had heard you say that before, usually after your mother would sneer or make a comment about your paint stained hands when he’d bring you home from a day at the park. But sitting here listening to Lou say it was different.

Lou reminded him of you as a kid. She wasn't afraid  to speak up, to say what she thought, and she was filled with creativity and love.

Ben always admired that about you, that you were able to create things so perfectly and that you always made space in your heart for him, even when he was a complete dick for so long. He wondered if Rosemary was like you too. He could see a bit of it when she told him off, saw how headstrong she was and how ready she was to protect who she loved from him.

Ben hated that Rosemary believed that he would hurt you again, when it all but tore his own heart out to do so the last time.

But he was trying, hoped that she could see that he was trying and hoped that one day she’d let him in. The problem was he wasn’t the most patient person in the world.

He looks down at the crayon in his hand frowning slightly. He wasn’t an artist like you. The only thing that he’d really ever drawn was the naughty doodle that got him kicked out of boarding school, the one that made you laugh so hard you pushed him off the bed when he drew it for you in your sketchbook. You’d tried to show him other ways of drawing and painting but he’d never been interested.

Not to mention he didn’t think it was manly. He didn’t think that a man should have a hobby like this. It should be fishing or hunting or something like that but he looks down at Lou.

Her eyes are shining bright with excitement, smile wide, dimples showing and he doesn’t want to disappoint her, not when she’s been nothing but nice to him since he showed up.

If Hughie or fucking Butcher come in here and see me drawing this fucking sun I’ll-

“You don’t look like your pictures.” Lou hums drawing a smile on the face of the stick figure.

“Huh?” Ben looks up confused.

“The pictures that mommy keeps in the drawer.” Lou says reaching for a black crayon to draw long flowing hair on the stick figure.

“What pictures?”

“Of you and aunty y/n. Mommy has some in her drawer.” Lou acts as if she hadn’t said anything, grabbing a different crayon to draw another stick figure.

“She has pictures of us?”

“Yeah. You don’t have the beard though. And you and aunty y/n are really young.” She pokes his cheek with a chubby finger, making Ben freeze. Lou squints her eyes at him. “You don’t look like the picture that aunty y/n drew either.”

Ben hesitates, eyes slightly widening. “She drew a picture of me?”

“Few days ago.” Lou scribbles. “You didn’t have a beard then either.”

In the new drawings and paintings that Ben had seen back at your apartment, he hadn’t seen any drawings of him, he assumed it was because of everything that happened, but to learn that you did still draw him made him smile.

“You don't like it?” Ben asks, amused.

She shrugs. “It’s okay.”

“Aunt y/n likes it.” He said it more to himself than to Lou. Like hell he was going to shave it off when he saw how much you liked it when he came back. Ben smiles to himself remembering how your heart beat jolted out of your chest whenever he touched you, how your cheeks flushed, how your smooth skin felt beneath his hands-

There were so many little things that Ben missed about you, so many things that he had forgotten, and now he got to learn each one all over again and fall in love with every part of you for the second time in his life.

The sun he drew in the top left of the page was lopsided, but Lou didn't complain, in fact she added a pair of sunglasses to it, and a bright smile that Ben laughed at.

"What are you two doing?" Ben hears your voice say as your hand gently rubs his back. Ben looks up embarrassed. He hadn't wanted to get caught with a crayon in his hand, but at least it had been you and not Butcher.

"We were just-" Ben begins to say, his eyes flicking to where Rosemary stands behind Lou eyes narrowed.

"Mommy look. Ben is helping me color!" Lou crows, picking up her drawing so Rosemary can see.

Ben realizes what Lou was drawing on the other side of the page. Lou has drawn Rosemary and you standing with Lou in between the two of you holding on to her hands. Ben's eyes slide to the last figure in the drawing, his chest suddenly very tight, it's him, standing beside you, frowning, but holding on to your hand.

Rosemary smiles tightly at the page with a sigh. "That's nice sweetie. Come on, let's get you dressed."

"But I like my pajamas."

"Do what your mother says Lou." You smile down at her, stroking her dark hair back from her face.

"Okay." She sighs dramatically and begins to walk out of the room, but Rosemary is still glaring at Ben.

"Rose-" You begin to say, but she interrupts you.

"She might be able to forgive you, but I'm not going to." Her eyes narrow. "I don't think you're good for her."

Ben is still sitting in his chair at the kitchen table, your hand solidly on his back as if you were making the statement that you weren't going to push him away. It solidified something, showed him how much you were willing to sacrifice to keep him in your life, and again enforced just how much you loved him. If Rosemary hadn't been standing there, he would have sat you on the marble countertop and sucked another mark into your neck. The one he left yesterday was already starting to fade and he wanted to replace it as soon as possible.

But he was still angry, angry that Rosemary wouldn't give him a chance. "Your mother means everything to me." Ben says honestly. "I'm not asking you to forgive me. All I'm asking is that you get to know me first before you-"

"I don't want to get to know you." Rosemary says. "And if you hurt my mother again, I’ll make you wish that you stayed in that fucking lab."

She's gone in an instant, making Ben feel a pain in his chest that he hadn't felt since he spoke to his own father decades ago, on those nights when his dad got so drunk that he couldn't stand up straight and the nights that his father's words rang heavy in Ben's ears. Those nights Ben would get drunk, climb up the tree outside your window, and stumble into your bed, curling into you because you were the only thing in his life that he couldn't stand to lose, couldn't stand to disappoint, and the only thing in his shitty life that made him happy.

"Ben-" He hears you say.

"Mhmm?"

"Look at me."

Ben looks up. He doesn't like the worry in your gaze, doesn't like how your own eyes are just a little rimmed red like you were crying.

"I love you." You whisper. "And she's not going to change that."

"Are you sure?" He barely breathes the words, afraid in his soul to admit them to you, to speak them into the universe.

You drop into his lap, putting your forearms on his shoulders.

"Ben." You drag your fingers through his hair, your touch soothing his anxiety. "You know me enough to know that I don't pull punches. If I didn't want you here, I would make sure you weren't." You press a soft kiss to the tip of his nose. "I want you here with me. I don't want you to go ever again. "

They were the words that he wanted you to tell him on the nights he crawled through your bedroom window, the question that he was always afraid to ask. Because he never believed that you could want him even a fraction as much as he wanted you, could love him and want to be with him as much as he wanted to be with you. And yet here you were after all these years after all the shitty things he did accepting him and letting him into your heart.

“Okay.” He leans his forehead against yours for a minute. “What did you talk about?”

“Homelander. And what happened yesterday.” You sigh. “She’s about as thrilled as I thought she’d be with us going after our old team. She was pissed when I told her about Countess the other day but this was worse.” You mutter holding on tight to him. “She’ll get over it. At least… I hope she will.”

“Mhmm.”

“I will say that I’m kind of jealous.”

“About?” Ben is suddenly worried.

What did I do? Did I-

“Every time I tried to get you to draw with me you said no.” Ben watches you frown dramatically. “And here you are with another woman-“

Ben rolls his eyes and shuts you up by closing the distance between your faces. You laugh into his mouth, his tongue finding the rigid edge of your front teeth as you do before you fit your mouth against his and kiss him, your soft lips molding against his in a way that makes a deep seated groan vibrate up through his chest.

“You try saying no to her.” Ben mutters.

“It’s impossible.” You open your eyes to stare at him again, your gaze filled with more love than Ben had ever seen. He’d never seen anyone look at him like that before, none of the other women he’d had in his life had ever looked at him the way you did. And he never wanted you to stop. You looked at him like he was special, treasured, like he was something that you never wanted to stop looking at, like you saw every part of him and refused to turn away.

He'd only seen that once before. He had taken a woman out for drinks, you had been doing an interview that ran late and Ben was trying to pass the time, but at the bar he had seen an older couple sitting in a booth in the corner. Ben couldn't look away from them. They were sitting on the same side of the booth, the man's arm draped over the woman who leaned into him with a wide smile, her gray hair pushed back in an elegant twist, but she looked up at him with such reverence that Ben couldn't help but think of you. When he saw that he left the woman he came with there and went to your apartment, to wait until you got back. And when you had fallen asleep Ben had folded you into his arms and allowed himself to dream that one day you would look at him the same way.

And now years later here you were looking at him as if he was the most precious thing he'd ever seen, the same way you looked at him the morning after your birthday when you told him you loved him.

"But I did tell you that once Lou drew you into the family portrait, you were in." You reach back to pick up the drawing holding it between the two of you so he can see Lou's hard work. "She really captured your frown." You snort, leaning your head against his shoulder while you look at the drawing.

"Shut up." Ben squeezes you, but he can't help but smile at the paper.

And deep down Ben started to believe you when you said that this was his family too, because sitting there with Lou he had felt just as at home as he had with you.

All he had to do was convince Rosemary.

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[30 MINUTES AGO] READER POV

I can't believe that she walked in on us IN BED. She's already pissed about me having him here, but why did her finding us together feel like the equivalent of my mother walking in on Ben and me?

You follow behind Rosemary silently, trying not to think of how sad Ben looked when you left him. You would have wanted nothing more than to stay in bed, curled up beside him and make him understand that no matter how much Rosemary wanted you to push him away, you weren't going to leave him.

You could see the fear flashing in his eyes, had seen it last night when he yelled at you. As much as he didn't want to admit it, you knew that Ben was still afraid that you would leave him. And knowing how much you meant to him made you love him even more.

It was a beautiful day. Legend's home was the only one within ten miles, his money well spent to keep himself secluded from the rest of the world. The large trees at the back of his home were tall and strong, their branches curling upward  to the sun as if they wished to worship it.

The sunlight was warm on your shoulders, soaking through your t-shirt and sweat pants as you follow behind your daughter, who was obviously trying to get out of earshot of Ben's supe hearing. You didn't want to break it to her that you'd probably have to drive at least a mile away for Ben's hearing to get a little bit fuzzy.

Finally, just as you reach the crest of trees at the back of the lot she stops and turns back to face you.

She's frowning and waits a minute to begin. "I want you to tell me what happened."

"I did-"

"No. You didn't tell me everything and I want to know exactly  what happened and why you had to fight Homelander."

You bite the inside of your cheek.

There really wasn't an easy way to sugar coat it or really explain it in a way that Rosemary would understand without getting angry.

She almost went ballistic the other day when I told her that I killed Countess and that was a complete accident. Us going after the Twins was not. Us going after the twins was calculated.

"Okay. Before we talk about that, I want you to understand why-"

"Oh you mean why you and Ben-" She seethes his name. "Were going after your old team? The exact thing that you told me you weren't going to do when you came to tell me about Countess?"

"Yes."

"Fine." She leans back against one of the trees, still frowning. "Go on."

"Ben told me what happened in Nicaragua. What Countess said was true, she seduced him to make me angry." You hold up a hand. "And before you say that Ben said those things to me and did those things of his own free will. I know."

Rosemary still doesn't look pleased.

"They betrayed him in Nicaragua. They attacked him and gave him to the Russian military."

"But why?"

"Honestly I'm not sure. I think it's because Ben used to be wild and impulsive and-"

"Used to be?"

"Just listen." You sigh. "He spent forty years in Russia being tortured and experimented on. They put something in his chest-"

"What did they put in his chest?"

"It's like an energy beam." You were giving her the short version about what the beam really did, because you didn't think that now was the best time to say that it might turn supes human. "But that's why we went to see the Twins, because they betrayed him and when Homelander showed up I had to step in."

Rosemary pinches the bridge of her nose and you can tell that she's trying very hard to not get angry. "So let me get this straight, you went to see the Twins, AS SOME KIND OF FUCKED UP REVENGE FANTASY?"

"Well-"

"No. My turn to talk." She holds up a finger like she's admonishing a toddler. "I can't believe that you can't see what's happening."

"See what?"

"You told me that things were different, that he'd changed but he hasn't! He's still the same angry dick! The only person that's changed is you!"

"What?"

"And you don't fucking see it!" Rosemary shouts. "You facing Homelander, you killing Countess, you going after your old team- it's all him! As soon as you got a whiff of Soldier Boy you started to slip back into the person that you were forty fucking years ago."

"That is ridiculous-"

"No it's not. And it's all him. He is the one making you throw the life away that you have made for yourself. He is the one making you use your powers again! He is the one making you go along with his ridiculous revenge plot-"

"Ben is not making me do anything!"

"He is-"

"You have no idea what that's like for people who say that they're your friends betray you. To have people who you thought trusted you give you up like that. They stabbed him in the back Rosie, and they sent him away to another country to be tortured. Do you have any idea what they did to him there? Our old team deserves everything that is coming to them."

"I don't know who you are anymore."

"I am still the same person I was. I am still me."

"No I don't think you are-"

Your jaw tightens. "Look, I understand that you're upset with this whole situation. With having to be here and with me letting Ben back into my life, but he is my family too."

She bristles when you say the word 'family.'

She has to understand that, to know that Ben is my family, is her family.

"Rosemary, do you have any idea what I would do for you if someone tried to hurt you or Lou the way they hurt Ben? What I would do to them for even trying?" You whisper it, but you can see her expression soften as she considers what you were saying. "You were angry with me because I was going to go to Russia alone. You wanted to protect me. And even all this stuff with Ben, you have been trying to protect me from him because you believe that he's going to hurt me again. How is this any different?"

“It is.”

“Why? Because he’s hurt me?” Your eyes lock with hers. “I’ve hurt you by letting him back in my life. Are you saying that now you wouldn’t protect me? That if I asked you to go with me to Russia right now you wouldn't do it.”

She stands there looking at you for a minute, letting what you've asked hang in the air between the two of you. And you know that deep down she understands the need to protect her family the same way you did.

"No. That's not what I'm saying. You depend so much on him and it's only been three days." She sighs. "Mom you were happy before-“

"No I wasn't." You mutter.

The memories of the last three days with Ben proved that. You hadn't realized just how in the hole you were until he walked back into your life. Until you felt how much you loved him and now understood how much he loved you. Waking up with him, falling asleep with him, spending time with him, seeing his smile, hearing him speak, and feeling him beside you all felt different. She was right, you did feel different. You felt lighter and warmer, like you'd mainlined sunshine, like everything else had been colorless until Ben walked back in.

You understood that now you may have tried to be happy, and you were with Rosemary and Lou, but not anywhere else. Being with Ben felt right.

Rosemary eyes you for a minute and then finally sighs.  "I know."

"What?" You weren't expecting her to say that.

"He's been here only three days and you're-" She searches for the word reluctantly. "You're glowing."

"Huh?"

"My entire life I've watched you. I know you. You're my best friend. And I'm not saying that you haven't been happy, but with him you're a different person."

"You've already said that and it's not true. I'm still me-"

"Not about the supe shit." She shakes her head. "The way you look at him, the way you smile, the way whenever he shifts in another direction you do too like somehow you sensed it. And it scares me."

"Why does that scare you?"

"Because if he decides this is all too much and he leaves, I don't want to see the person you become when he does." She frowns and crosses her arms over her chest. "I kinda feel like I've seen that person the last thirty nine years."

"That's ridiculous-"

"You told me about before, told me how you were when he left, I didn't see it, I couldn't imagine it, but now seeing you with him, understanding just how much of a hold he has on your life, understanding how much you love and care for him- mom… I see that the life you made for us, you still weren't you. I'm not sure if you were really completely happy and now seeing you with him, I-"

You place your hands on her cheeks. "Rosie. What happened forty years ago is not your fault. I would not change a single second that I spent with you and Lou. I do not regret the life that I've made with you. I do not regret you. I want you to understand that. The things that happened between me and Ben, even though they were fucked up, does not mean that I don't love you."

"I know that." She whispers, but you're suddenly unsure.

You thought that you'd expressed that to Rosemary enough over the years, that you did not regret having her, that you wouldn't change that decision.

"Rosie please." You hug her, tears burning just behind your eyes. "You are not a mistake. I love you." You pull back to look at her green eyes, the same as Ben's. "And I wouldn't change a single thing about my life. Because maybe I wasn't happy with me, but I was when I was with you and Lou."

"Okay." She pulls back with a sigh.

"I just wish that you'd try to talk to work things out with Ben." You search her face. You told yourself that you weren't going to get involved, but you wanted her to like him. He was her father and he was going to be spending time with you.

"Look I don't want to hate him, and maybe I don't, but it's not your fault." Her expression hardens. "He shouldn't have shouted at you yesterday for that. You didn't make me hate him or make him the villain. It's not your fault." She repeats.

"Maybe it is. I told you all those things about him, I made you focus only on the bad, only on the things that happened towards the end-"

Rosemary takes your hand. "Mom you told me everything. I remember the good things. I remember what your friendship was like. I remember the stories you told me when I was a kid about Ben and you running around Philadelphia."

"Which ones?"

"When he was strong for you when you couldn't be. When he took care of you, when he took you places, when he supported your art. When he made sure that you were happy. I-" She pauses.  "I haven't forgotten those."

"Then why-"

"Because they happened before. When Ben was still Ben and not Soldier Boy. I've seen every single film. Watched every interview, commercial, and even those stupid music videos." Rosemary shakes her head as if trying to rid herself of the image.

"You have?"

"Yes. And I saw the person he became."

You knew what that looked like. Ben really did go all out for the cameras when they were rolling, but when it was the two of you he was just him. And the past two days he had shown that person to you all over again, and you knew deep in your heart that you were trusting him again.

"I know that you don't believe me when I say this, but he really is different."

"Sure."

You sigh. You knew that she wouldn't believe you, that she was just so hell-bent on pushing him away that she wouldn't listen to you. But you knew deep down that he was different, and that he was trying. It was enough for you.

Ben was enough. And the fact that he was willing to throw away all the macho bullshit he had spouted in the past, that he was willing to try to change to be the boy you fell in love with, meant everything to you.

You knew that you had probably forgiven him too early, but you wanted to believe him, and you wanted him to be back in your life.

Rosemary echoes your sigh and looks back up towards the house, stamping her foot in frustration. "Did you at least kick his ass?"

"Who? Ben? I told you that I threw him-" You begin to say suddenly confused.

"No." The ends of her lips twitch into a smile. "Homelander."

You laugh. "Yeah. They don't really make heroes the same way these days."

"Good. He probably fucking liked it."

"I wouldn't be too sure of that." You snort remembering the look he gave you when you threw him against the ground. "But it was kind of cathartic to throw him around. I feel a lot better. Maybe you should give it a try." You narrow your eyes at your daughter. "I mean Homelander not Ben."

Rosemary's lips pull into a mischievous smirk, looking more like Ben than she ever has. "I'll keep that in mind."

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

READER POV

Your heartbeat pounds in your ears, heart racing to catch up as you tug your arms to get them free, but leather restraints hold them in place at your sides. A cold chill seeps up through the metal table you lay on though the thin paper gown that covers your body. Brilliant light from fluorescent square lights above blinds you. And even when you shut them tight the flash of red that stays behind burns through your iris.

Shadows move just on the edge of your vision and you strain your ears to hear them speak, to understand why you're here, why you're strapped to this table, but the only thing that remains is a garbled sound broken only by the rapid ding of a heart monitor.

Where am I? How did I-

A sharp pain deep inside of you makes your breath catch, an uncomfortable sensation between your legs. You try to kick out, but your legs are strapped down, pried apart and bent at the knee. Your pleas for release are slurred as if you've forgotten how to speak.

Someone brings their hand down over your mouth and you bite down, blood and flesh sticking between your teeth and the person strikes your face savagely.

The shadows that pass over where you lay on your back are impossible to bring faces to and their muffled conversations are just out of reach.

And when you open your mouth to scream everything goes black.

"Y/n!" You hear Ben shout as you come to, his hands on your shoulders shaking you from sleep, but you can't move, can't speak still stuck in whatever hell-scape that your mind designed. "Please Sweetheart." He's leaning down over you, eyes wide with fear and anxiety, eyebrows pulled together. "Wake up."

"Ben-" You croak, breath coming in gasps, eyes blinking to focus on him above you.

Ben breathes out a sigh of relief, pulling you up into his arms and tucking your head beneath his chin.

"Ben." You say again, tears falling from your eyes sobs shaking your shoulders, breath coming in gasps as you cling to him, holding on to him so tight you think you hear his back crack.

“Shhh. It’s alright Sweetheart, I’m here. I’m right here.” Ben murmurs into the top of your head, rubbing his hand down your spine.

It wasn’t the first time you’d had the nightmare, but it was the first time you’d had it in forty years. It had started a few years before Ben had been taken. You don’t know why, but you always assumed that it was stress of being a hero or your heartache over Ben refusing to see you as more than a friend, that finally you cracked. But you didn't know why that particular scenario. The only time that you'd seen something remotely similar was the day that you received your injection of Compound V and you figured maybe your mind created the dream to haunt you.

And now it’s back because I’m stressed about all this shit with Homelander.

You inhale the familiar scent of Ben’s cologne, tears soaking into the front of his black shirt, but it does little to calm your heartbeat. You sob again, arms wrapped around his neck holding him tighter to you as you shudder.

“It’s alright. I’m right here.” Ben says again. His hand trails gently down your spine up and down in a soothing motion to calm you down.

He’d comforted you before after the same nightmare, he knew exactly what you saw each time, but he also was confused as to why you saw it. In his arms you felt safe, as if no one else could touch you or pull you away. You wondered if Ben felt the same way when you held him.

“Shh.” He presses a kiss to the top of your head, pushing back the strands of hair that clung to your sweaty forehead.

You shudder again, sweat sticking your shirt to your back, but your heartbeat begins to slow as you take in another breath.

“Same dream?” Ben whispers.

“Yeah.” You breathe. “I haven’t had it since you were-“ You choke on the words again as the images from what you saw come back. The mumbled voices of the figures fading in and out of your ears.

“Did you ever figure out what it was?”

“No. I-“ You inhale. “I don’t know. I-“

Your body shakes again as you cling to Ben, trying to forget the dream that never seemed to go away. “I don’t know.”

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

READER POV

In the days that followed Butcher and Hughie looked for Mindstorm's last known location, and Rosemary tried to stay as far away from Ben as she could, which wasn't too far because she refused to leave Lou alone with him. And Lou kept wanting to do more and more with Ben.

But you didn't mind that, because it meant that Rosemary got to sit front row to Ben trying to get more comfortable around Lou.

And try he was. He sat with her each day while she drew after breakfast, watched you and her paint side by side on Legend's back porch, waited patiently while you braided Lou's hair back from her face, and even indulged her in the occasional game of Go Fish that Ben always seemed to lose. But he didn't mind or at least not that you could tell.

"I understand that you all have this kind of fucked up fantasy when you go after Mindstorm," Rosemary sighed leaning back on Legend's dark brown leather couch with a beer in her hand. "But I still don't see how this is going to help us with Homelander."

Butcher shrugs taking a sip from his own beer bottle, brooding in the chair across from her. Hughie mirrors the shrug and reaches for the last slice of pizza in the ornate glass coffee table in front of the couch.

You were sitting on the couch beside her, your legs folded up underneath you with a mug full of scotch clutched between your hands, while Ben stretched out beside you nursing his own glass of whiskey.

In all the years that you had known Legend, there never seemed to be a shortage of booze. Ben respected that.

Lou was sleeping soundly upstairs, you kept checking on her every few minutes with your supe hearing, but so far she hadn't woken up.

"Because those two wanted us to go after their old team first." Butcher gestures to Ben and you with his bottle.

"At least we don't have a hard-on for Homelander." Ben frowns. "Can't tell if you want me to kill him or if you want to fuck him."

"Ben-" You sigh.

You had tried not to think about Homelander over the past few days, but it was unavoidable. You bite the inside of your cheek remembering what it was like to fight him, what it was like to hold him by the throat and stare into his nearly black eyes.

He had been pissed. You knew that, but you hadn't expected to feel so weird when you looked at him. You remember his blonde hair, the sharp smell of hair dye, the strong cut of his jaw-

Your thumb rubs the side of the mug you're holding. There was something else about him though, something that you couldn't place, something that when you looked at him you felt that you had forgotten something. Something important that nagged and tugged at the back of your mind.

But what? I've seen him before, at least not in person, and definitely not that close. Only in those pathetic interviews on T.V, on those stupid energy drinks…

You think again about the grip you had on his throat, remember the angular planes of his face.

"That doesn't fucking help." Rosemary rolls her eyes and you look up at your daughter.

She really does act like Ben even if he wasn't around through her childhood.

You think to yourself, your eyes tracing her face, looking at the soft dusting of cinnamon colored freckles over her cheeks that she usually hid under makeup and the nose that always reminded you of your father.

You think about Homelander again. But what did I forget? What about him made me-

Your entire body freezes as you stare at Rosemary's face, the face that you'd looked at for the past forty years.

No. That's impossible-

You can't breathe, can't think. Something cold clamps over your heart the chill soaking into your bones like you've sunk into deep water. All other sounds in the room fade into a muddled haze as you sit there and stare at her, eyes widening, heartbeat beginning to thud loudly in your ears.

Oh. My. Fucking. G-

The mug shatters in your hand, glass and alcohol going everywhere, but you don't feel anything. Only the sense of dread, and the chill that spreads with the coming storm and the understanding of what it is you've forgotten.

And you hoped to God that you were wrong.

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

A/N: I'M BACK BABY! Honestly after a week off I am doing alot better. Thank you everyone for the love and support. I hope y'all liked this chapter. It's moving the story right on along and the next chapter is going to be BIG and BLOODY. But we'll make it through.

As always thank you so much for reading! If you'd like to be added to the taglist or if you are already apart of the taglist and it didn't notify you, please let me know! :)

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[gojoidyll]

Imagine taking Katheryne's place for the day in Liyue, and when the traveler comes by for a new commission they are surprised to see you. You, on the other hand, aren't surprised to see them as you expected for them to come by. However, what you didn't expect was to see someone who doesn't belong.

He was clad in expensive looking attire, the contrast of blues and whites matching perfectly with his pale complexion and long silver hair. His eyes were mesmerizing too. They reminded you much of your dear friend Zhongli's eyes despite the major difference in color.

"Oh, y/n, we didn't expect to see you here today! Where's Katheryne?"

"Hello Paimon, Traveler, Katheryne is out for the day and a new commission popped up asking for anyone who was free to take her place. The mora is good, so I decided to take up the job since I don't have anything else to do."

"Oohhh, that makes sense," Paimon answered.

You smiled before directing your attention to their tall friend, "may I ask who this is?"

"This Neuvillette," Paimon introduced with an air of arrogance in her voice, "he's the chief justice of Fontaine! Pretty cool, huh?"

You bowed to Neuvillette, "it's nice to meet you sir."

"No, the pleasure is mine... your name is y/n, correct? The traveler and Paimon talk a lot about you. They were actually saying how they wanted me to meet you at some point."

Before you could say anything, you felt a tug on your sleeve, "miss y/n, your shift is over."

Nodding you turn back to the three before you, "well, as you can tell, since I'm done working for the day, why don't I tag along? That is, if it's alright."

Meeting Neuvillette was definitely interesting. He was both kind and courteous. A true gentleman. Not to mention that you quite like how he spoke to you. His voice was nice, smooth, and definitely easy on the ears. And just as he liked talking about Fontaine, he also liked listening to you.

Most of the time when you hung out with the traveler and Paimon, Paimon was usually the one who dominated the conversation (not that you minded, you weren't much of a talker to begin with), so being the center of attention in a conversation for once definitely made you nervous. Especially when such a handsome and refined man was giving such a attention.

And later you would fail to notice how Paimon and the traveler would give each other a high-five before leaving both you and Neuvillette to talk amongst yourselves. Neuvillette noticed, however, but decided to not say anything.

"You know Miss y/n," Neuvillette started but you gently cut him off, "y/n is fine."

"Y/n," he amended with a smile, "I've actually been quite the fan of yours for some time. And truthfully, it was I who asked the traveler to meet you."

As it turns out, you were actually a performer of sorts. Your voice was something that everyone could admire for hours on end. But at some point you decided to take a break. The life of an adventurer too good to pass up. (You did promise yourself to sing again someday, but for now, you were on a ... vacation of sorts.)

"You- you're a fan of mine?"

"Yes, I always enjoyed your performances when you would grace Fontaine with your voice. And when I heard you had went on break, I honestly thought I wouldn't be able to hear you again."

Your face felt hot all of sudden, it wasn't everyday that such a gorgeous man showered you in such praises. You felt him grab your hand as he stopped walking to look at you.

"Y/n, I-"

"Am i interrupting something?"

You looked to see who it was and immediately broke out into a bright smile, "Mr. Zhongli!"

You gently let go of Neuvillette's hand before walking up to your friend to give him a hug, "I haven't seen you in awhile! Where on Teyvat have you been?"

"Just traveling my dear, nothing to worry about."

As you pulled away to introduce Zhongli to Neuvillette, you didn't notice how the air got thicker and the area more tense than what it was.

Oh, and did I forget to mention that you didn't know that Zhongli is actually the geo Archon? Yeah...

Having two dragons fight over you is quite nice, though.

[remusluvr]

all these things that i've done | remus lupin

summary: Remus is drunk, you're the first person he thinks of to call. content: drunk Remus, exes, throwing up (and reader tells Remus to throw up so he can get it out of his system), unedited

"(Y/N)," he draws out, voice high and sing-songy. He's honestly a little surprised you picked up his call. You're a little surprised that you picked up too. It's nearly two in the morning. Anyone in their right mind would have woken up, seen that their ex was calling, and put the phone right back down to go to sleep. You couldn't though not with the achy feeling that formed in your stomach after seeing the caller ID.

"Hi, Remus. Are you alright?" you ask, voice raspy from having been woken up. You hear James nearby calling for Remus and Remus brushing him off so he can find a quieter place to talk to you. "What's going on?"

"We went to a bar. It's the bar that we always used to go to," he breathes, background much quieter now. He must have gotten away. You don't really know what to say. "It made me think of you. James told me not to call."

"You're drunk, Remus," you grumbled, fingers pinching at the bridge of your nose. Of course, he's drunk. That's the only reason why he's calling. "Go back to James and Sirius. Are they trying to leave?"

"No. But I want to leave."

"Are you really calling me for a ride? What the fuck?"

"No, no, no, no, no. I mean, yes. I am calling for a ride but I miss you."

"Call an uber." With that, you hang up the phone. How dare he call you asking for a ride after you haven't spoken to each other in months. You lost half of your friends because of your breakup. Lily and Marlene are the only ones that still talk to you. Every once in a while, you'll get a text from James but nothing important.

And you would think with the way you're fuming at him for thinking he could just call you up and you'd come running, that when his name comes up on your phone again you wouldn't answer it. You do.

"I'm sorry for calling you. Please don't be mad at me," he whispered. You feel bad. He's obviously drunk with no way to get home. You don't want him to take an uber by himself and the bar isn't too far from your house.

"Wait outside, I'll be there in fifteen." He mumbles a thank you before you can hang up on him. You huff under your breath as you take the warm blankets off of you, getting up to locate a pair of pants, shoes, and your car keys.

He's like an excited puppy when you get there, jumping up immediately as you pull in front of where he's sitting with James. James doesn't look as drunk as Remus and you're grateful that one of them had the hindsight to be a little smart. Getting out of the car, Remus is on you, pulling you into a hug so he can rest his cheek on your head, mumbling out a, "Missed you so much."

You try to ignore the pull his words have on your heart but it's only been a few months since you broke up. You haven't exactly moved on from him.

"He drank a lot," James explains, "I tried to get him to call anyone else but he told me that he wanted you to come and get him."

You spin in Remus's hold so he's pressed against your back, face buried in your neck. You're trying to talk to James but you can't focus, not when he starts pressing kisses onto your skin like no time has passed between the two of you seeing each other.

"Don't worry, I'll get him home."

"Noooo, can I sleep on your couch? Please?" James looks at you with a look of pity. You brush it off, reaching back to run a hand through Remus's hair. You say bye to his friends, pulling him into the passenger seat of your car and handing him a water bottle that you had grabbed before you left. "You're so sweet."

You don't say anything, climbing into the driver's seat and starting in the direction of his house. He notices and is quick to whine about wanting to be with you. If it weren't so late maybe you'd have more energy to argue, but you don't so you just start in the direction of your apartment.

"I think about you all the time," he confesses. That's bold coming from the boy who locked you out of his life. He broke up with you so why does he think he has a right to say these things to you. You have to remind yourself that he's drunk so you don't slap him across the face. "I don't think I'll ever get over you, sweetheart."

"Rem, stop talking," you say through clenched teeth. He doesn't know what he's saying and he won't remember it in the morning. Tomorrow, he'll wake up and scurry out before you wake up so that he doesn't have to face you, you're sure of it.

"I never stopped loving you. Was just scared to let you in."

There are tears pricking at your eyes but you won't let yourself cry. You won't. Because if you do then Remus will just try to comfort you and you'll let yourself get your hopes up. You don't say anything the rest of the way home.

He throws up the minute he steps out of your car. You groan, throwing his arm over your shoulder so you can help him into the house and to a proper toilet.

"I'm sorry I called you. Just need you. I hate not having you around."

"We can talk in the morning. Pull the trig and throw up so we can both sleep."

You let him sleep on the floor by your bed after he complained about the couch. Anything to just have him shut up. You don't sleep much, not when you can hear him breathing so close to you. Everything he's said tonight keeps replaying in your head as you stare up at the ceiling. If he really means any of it, he'll be here in the morning and willing to talk to you. If not, you'll block him and finally let go.

[manias-wordcount]

I'm surprised i haven't seen this more often, but I just love the idea of Loid Forger being in love with someone else while still married to Yor. I mean the whole idea that he didn't have a choice in the matter, and then falling for someone else after he and Yor "get together" has so much room for angsty sexual tension and i've always wanted to see how it could be handled.

Tell No One (Loid Forger x Reader)

𝗔/𝗡: 𝘂𝗵𝗵𝗵𝗵 𝗶 𝗳𝗲𝗲𝗹 𝗹𝗶𝗸𝗲 𝗶 𝗴𝗼𝘁 𝗯𝗶𝘁 𝘀𝗶𝗹𝗹𝘆 𝗮𝗻𝗱 𝗰𝗮𝗿𝗿𝗶𝗲𝗱 𝗮𝘄𝗮𝘆 𝘄𝗶𝘁𝗵 𝘁𝗵𝗶𝘀 𝗼𝗻𝗲 𝗪𝗛𝗔𝗛𝗔𝗛𝗔𝗛 𝗶 𝗰𝗮𝗻𝘁 𝗵𝗲𝗹𝗽 𝗵𝗲'𝘀 𝗿𝗲𝗮𝗹𝗹𝘆 𝗵𝗼𝘁 𝗟𝗠𝗔𝗢 𝗵𝗼𝗽𝗲 𝘆𝗼𝘂 𝗲𝗻𝗷𝗼𝘆!

𝙒𝙖𝙣𝙩 𝙩𝙤 𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙙 𝙢𝙤𝙧𝙚? ⇒ 𝙈𝙖𝙨𝙩𝙚𝙧𝙡𝙞𝙨𝙩

𝙟𝙤𝙞𝙣 𝙢𝙮 𝙙𝙞𝙨𝙘𝙤𝙧𝙙 𝙨𝙚𝙧𝙫𝙚𝙧?

𝙗𝙪𝙮 𝙢𝙚 𝙖 𝙘𝙤𝙛𝙛𝙚𝙚?

Yor likes your cakes. Anya likes your cookies. He likes your smile. It gives him the perfect excuse to visit your bakery twice a week. 

  “Hi, Mr. Forger! Welcome back! The usual?”

  It gives him the perfect excuse to visit you.

  “Hi there!” He greets with a nod and a practiced smile. He’s gotten good at playing Loid Forger. But for him, it’s just another disguise in a long list of faces and names he has taken on for himself. And you? You’re just another person he uses to secure his role on the stage. Something that keeps him from breaking the so-carefully crafted illusion. So he tries not to dwell on how your own customer service smile turns shy, and your eyes turn away from his at the sight of his a little too genuine smile. He tries not to dwell on it all. Instead, he tries to think about work. About Anya. About Yor. “How’s the shop? Anything happens since the last time I was here?”

  He tries to think about anyone but you.

  But it’s hard- it’s hard because there you go letting out a soft giggle as a memory comes bubbling up from the back of your mind. A pretty little sound he could listen to for hours. But when you start back to talking- talking about the crazy run order that you just barely finished this morning for a couple whose baker got sick the night before the wedding- he finds that he could listen to this voice of yours every single day of his life if he had the chance. And it’s not a new discovery. It’s not a new thought. The same way the little spark he swears he feels when your fingers brush against his as you take his money- always exact change- from his hands is not a new occurrence. He’ll tell no one, but he knows. He knows it’s not new. It’s never new.

  So why does every time he comes to see you feel like the first time he fell for you?

  He tried not to think of you. He tries not to think of you. But the day he stumbled on your bakery tucked in a random hole in the wall and down a couple of stairs on a pathway that was just barely out of his way home from the hospital, he was hooked. The second he opened the doors to a homely little shop and smelt that delicious smell of freshly baked goods, he was interested. But from the moment he saw you, he was gone. 

  Twilight had developed a weakness. For the first since before he could remember. And that weakness just so happened to solidify Loid Forger. And that weakness just so happened to be you. 

  So his excuse was peanut butter cookies for Anya. They were the perfect tool to help her study after all, and she gobbled them up like a madwoman whenever she had the chance. And when he found out that you did seasonal cheesecakes, his excuse included picking up a slice of something sweet for Yor too. Because a husband that come back with all kinds of sweets and treats for his daughter and his wife was a good husband. And that’s what Loid tries to be. A good husband.

  But on visit eleven, you had shyly told him that you wear your grandmother’s wedding ring around your finger because when you’re twenty-six and unmarried, the government tends to not like you. He tries to assure you that you have nothing to worry about. That nobody would ever accuse someone as sweet as you of anything that would get you on the government’s radar. And immediately, he watched you grow flustered at his compliments. You even let him taste a traditional dessert from Hugaria you just learned how to bake the week prior as a thank you.

  But all he could think about as your hands held up the pastry for him to take in his own, his mind could only think about that wedding ring sitting on your finger. And how a real husband would give you more protection than just a dainty old ring. How he would give you more protection. More love. More of anything you ever wanted. More of anything you ever asked for. 

  Loid would take care of you. But Twilight? Twilight would marry you. Twilight would love you. And the fact that it’s so evident to him that he can no longer deny means that the most dangerous person in all of Ostania always manages to have a smile on your face flour lost somewhere in his hair. You make him as weak as you do strong. And that’s dangerous. That puts the whole mission in jeopardy. That puts you in jeopardy. And you don’t even realize it. You don’t.

  So he tries not to think about you. He swears on his life, he tries, he tries, he tries. He tries not to when he’s working at the hospital or out on the field saving lives. He tries not to when he’s passing by your shop in a rush to make it home. He tries to when he’s at home with his pretend family playing the perfect father and husband and man all wrapped up into one. He tries so hard not to.

  But yet, he finds himself coming back more often than he should. And he’ll tell everyone that it’s because you sell those peanut butter cookies that Anya loves. He’ll tell everyone that it’s because he loves the way Yor’s face lights up when he presents her with one of your delicious cheesecakes. And he’ll tell no one that he visits to catch a glimpse of the delicate curves of your body as you bend down to pluck an item from the display case. He’ll tell no one that he visits to memorize every feature of your face and picture it as a memory of what he’s fighting for.

  And he’ll tell no one that he visits to hear your voice and imagine all the sounds you would make when he finally had the chance to take care of you like a real man should. He’ll tell no one. Absolutely no one.

  Just like you’ll tell no one of all the times he’s pulled you to the back of the bakery and kissed you.

[from-the-clouds]

savior complex - joel miller x f!reader

masterlist | song inspo | gif: @joelmjller

All the skeletons that you hide Show me yours, I'll show you mine

summary: Joel shows up at your doorstep, battered and bruised. Despite the bad blood between you, do you have the heart to turn him away? Enemies to lovers. Takes place pre-television series/game. Was written as a companion piece/prequel to my other joel fic, but can be read on it's own. pairing: joel miller x f!reader words: 7k warnings: SMUT - 18+ ONLY, minors DNI. porn w/ plot, unprotected sex, dirty talk, implied age gap. Enemies to lovers. Heavy angst, multiple POVs, implied drug abuse, alcohol use, implied death of a family member, canon-typical suffering! Descriptions of injuries, blood, stitches (please dm for specifics if you have any questions). a/n: I haven't seen the enemies to lovers trope written for joel yet, and I'm also obsessed with the trope of a character showing up at their enemies house because they don't have any place to go. So maybe this is a little self-indulgent. Special shoutout to @ay0nha for letting me talk to you about this fic! Please enjoy, I'm really proud of/excited about this one.  ♥

“What do you want?” 

The ice in your own voice comes as a surprise. You weren’t sure you were even capable of sounding so cold, but it’s probably a good skill to have nowadays. Plus, he’s probably the last person you expect to see, and certainly the last person you want to see standing in your doorway.

“I need your help,” he says. 

You snort, lips pressing together in a bitter smile. “Uh-huh.”

It’s so dark in the hallway, you can barely see his face, but you can imagine what Joel might look like, lines etched in his face from the permanent frown he’s always wearing, particularly when dealing with you. You’ve known him a handful of years, here and there, and you’re pretty sure you’ve never seen him smile….or laugh…or display any emotion other than irritation, or indifference. 

The breeze from your open window shifts your curtains to the side, lets a sliver of light from the full moon pan over him, and you can see him clearly, just for a second. 

He’s covered in blood. 

It’s hard to see exactly how much, but it’s all over his face, his shirt, and accompanied by dirt and grime. One of his hands hangs limp at his side, his opposite clenched into a tight fist. The breeze dies down, the curtain falls back into place, and he’s cast once more in shadow. 

Crossing your arms, you lean against the doorframe. Anyone else, you’d help without question. At one point, you would’ve let him in willingly. But it had been months since you’d last spoken, and you had no intentions of ever seeing him again.

“Why should I help you?” 

He lowers his eyes, looks at the floor. When he answers, his voice is strained. 

“Because I have nowhere else to go.”

The more your eyes adjust in the dim light, the more you can see. Tattered clothes, rain dripping from the tips of his salt-and-pepper curls, his eyes dull. You wonder if he’s trying to make himself look like a kicked puppy, petulant and pathetic, but it doesn’t really seem like something Joel would do.

“Please?” 

He’s in pain, you can read it on his face, and you wonder if it’s because of his injuries, or because of how horrible it must be for him to beg you for help. Historically, it’s always been you in his place, needing something – and if it didn’t serve his interests, he’d leave you in the dust. Joel never made exceptions, no matter the circumstances, despite how long you’d known one another. With that to consider, you have every right to turn him away. You should feel satisfied, seeing him so desperate. You wished you could feel satisfied, but you didn’t.

“Fine.” You let him in. What is it about him that always makes you cave? 

Pulling a chair away from your small kitchen table, he staggers behind you, favoring his right foot, bracing himself on any surface he walks past – the doorframe, the countertop, the table, until he finally lowers himself into the chair.  

You cross the room. It takes most of your bodyweight to shift the couch in the corner of the room away from the vent behind it, and you kneel down. Air conditioning and heat are a thing of the past, but it’s got other purposes now. Using a blade of the knife you always keep handy, you’rable to pry the metal grate away from the wall, to pull out a tin tackle box that you haven’t had to touch in awhile. 

Joel’s still at the table when you return to him, breathing labored, and you flick on the lights. He blinks, his eyes are on you, you can feel the way his body is pinched with nervous energy – like a starving feral cat that’s been trapped in a cage, and still can’t decide if it trusts you yet. As if you’d ever done anything to hurt him. If anything, you should be scared.

“Alright,” you say. “Let me take a look at you.”

His eyes have shifted away from your face, but, too proud to cast them down, he’s glaring at some fixed point behind you, glazing over. He doesn’t want to register what is actually going on. It doesn’t stop you from the task at hand, and you begin to take inventory of his injuries.

“So what happened?” you ask. He’s got a black eye forming, several small cuts all over his face, one of which is slicing through his bottom lip, causing it to swell.

“It’s none of your business,” he quips.

“It’s precisely my business, if you want me to be able to actually help you.” 

“A deal went wrong,” he said. “I was in someone else’s territory. They said rather than turning me into FEDRA, they’d let me off easy.”

“This is being let off easy?” you ask, then cluck your tongue. 

Joel doesn’t answer. 

“And that?” you eye the bump forming on his opposite temple. 

“It’s nothing,” he says, even though, when you graze a thumb over it, he swallows hard. 

“You’re gonna need to be more specific.”

“Got uh, shoved into a brick wall.”

You slide two fingers underneath his chin, using light pressure to tilt his face towards you. “Look at me.” When you’re staring at him like this, studying him closely, you’re forced to acknowledge how handsome he is. Even battered and bruised, it’s the dark, sad eyes, sharp jawline, long lashes that draw you in. He’s hardened by the world he’s been surviving in for twenty years, like everyone is, but he wears it well. You’d never tell him that. 

“Any blurry vision, dizziness?” You aim your flashlight in his eyes, and his pupils constrict. 

“No,” he says. You study him a moment more, and know what to look for. But you don’t find anything of concern.

“Well, I don’t think you have a concussion,” you say. “But I’ll keep an eye on it…..What else happened?” 

“Got me with a knife.” That is what you’ve been the most concerned with since he’s stepped inside. There’s a dark stain blooming on his shirt, just below his left ribcage

“I see,” you say, stepping back. “Take your shirt off.” You open the tin that you left on the table.

It’s full of medical supplies, ones you’d pocketed from the QZ hospital the last few years working there. It’s not easy to sneak them out, nor is it entirely ethical, but you’ve gotten pretty good at it, and now have a decent sized stash built up in case of any emergencies. You’re still deciding if Joel Miller’s well-being is worth the waste of supplies it’s going to be.

When you turn back to him, he has unbuttoned his shirt, but is struggling to shrug it off his right shoulder, where his arm hangs limp at his side. 

“I….” he manages….”I can’t move my arm.”

“Sit up,” you instruct, and he does, which gives you room to slide the rest of his shirt off his shoulder. You immediately notice the obvious deformity. “Looks dislocated.” 

He nods, looking at the floor. “I was trying to defend myself.”

The idea of him, outnumbered and outmaneuvered, a position he’s so rarely in, is unpleasant. He might be an asshole, but because of it, he always comes out on top. There’s something almost comforting about that kind of consistency these days, and it’s tough to stomach the idea that he doesn’t have superpowers, he’s just another person. You’re not sure why you still hold him in such high regard.

You can’t dwell on it. Especially because what’s more pressing is the cut below his ribs, a few inches in length. It’s still bleeding, but not severely. It’s not a stab wound either, even though it’s deeper than you’d expected, but there’s no internal organ damage.

You take a clean cloth and place it over the wound, guiding his left hand overtop it. “You’ll need stitches.” You slide your hand from underneath his, ignoring the warm weight of his touch. “But we need to stop the bleeding. Apply pressure.” He does, and winces.

“You don’t have anything for the pain?” you ask, raising your eyebrow. 

“Front pocket of my shirt,” he says. You fish out a pill. Oxys. You’re not sure how strong they are, and you don’t want to encourage the habit, but this might be a case where he actually needs one. 

There’s a glass of water already sitting on the table, and you grab it, standing over him. Neither of his arms are free to accept the offering.

“Open up.”

He glowers at you like a defiant child. 

“Are you serious?” you tilt your head. “Come on.”

Reluctantly, he opens his mouth, and you tilt your hand to drop the pill in and lift the glass of water to his lips. 

When you’re done with that, it’s time to work on his shoulder. You had done this a few times before, even once to your mother, who had also been a doctor. Med schools didn’t exist anymore, but you didn’t need a degree now to provide care, at least not in this QZ…just experience. And your mother had taught you everything she knew. Before your part of town fell to the virus, she’d even had you reading her old textbooks. So you felt like you were only missing the degree.

You pull up a chair to face him, so close it’s touching the corner of his own, and sit, carefully taking his injured arm and bending it upwards with one of your thumbs in the crease of his elbow, your opposite hand wrapped around his wrist until his forearm is resting against your chest. 

It’s way more intimate than you want it to be, but you don’t have much of a choice. His jaw is set so hard you think he might crack a tooth. “So sometimes, if you relax your muscles enough, you can actually get the shoulder back into place that way.”

You release his wrist and reach out to knead the muscles around the problem area - his chest, his shoulder, in between his shoulder blades. He tilts his head back in the chair, his face pinched. 

“It’s okay,” you say softly. “Just don’t hold your breath, that makes it worse.”

Joel hates this, you can tell. How often does he have to rely on someone so much to help him, that he lets them touch you like you are, lets them see him vulnerable? 

As much as you can, you avoid eye contact, looking down. You didn’t need to see him shirtless before to know that he’s muscular – not perfectly cut, but that isn’t really your thing, anyways. He looks good enough that your eyes are being drawn to places they shouldn’t be, down his torso to the v-lines dipping into the waistband of his jeans. He clears his throat, and you turn to find him watching you. You hope he can’t feel the way your heart is hammering against the back of his hand. 

It’s been a few minutes that you’re trying to get him to relax, but he can’t seem to. You should’ve known that this method wasn’t going to work for him of all people.

“Okay, I’m just going to try to move your arm a bit, see if that’ll work instead.”

He nods.

“Just keep breathing,” you instruct. “In through your nose, out through your mouth.” you slowly guide his elbow forward, still keeping traction. 

He hisses. “Relax,” you soothe. It’s hard, despite the bad blood between you, to resist the urge to be warm, gentle. To reassure. It’s in your nature, it’s part of your job.

Eventually, and with a little patience, you’re able to get the joint to move back into place, and you check to be sure Joel is able to move it on his own. He can, even though it’s sore. You fashion him a sling made out of an ace bandage. 

“You’re probably gonna be a little sore for a while, so take it easy.” It’s probably a useless instruction to give because you know he won’t take it easy. 

He has a sprained ankle, and you wrap it up, elevate it. There’s a near-perfect footprint left behind in dirt on the skin there. Like someone had stomped on his leg hoping to break it. You’re glad they failed.  

Next is the stitches. There’s a few cuts on his body that need one or two, but you start with the big one. The wound has stopped bleeding, so you disinfect it, pull out your tools, and begin working, bent over him. Every time the needle pierces his skin, he tenses. You wonder if the one oxy was enough, or if it hardly touched the pain because he’s using them so often.

The entire time you’re treating him, you’re trying to be as clinical as possible. You’ve got to focus because if you think too much about him, you think about the last interaction you shared, and how pathetic you’d been. And the fact that he’d thought to come to you of all people for this makes your head spin. It’s not supposed to. You aren’t supposed to feel these things for him. You aren’t supposed to owe him anything.

Joel’s fist curls so tightly into itself that his knuckles turn white, fingernails leaving crescents in the skin of his palms. “Kind of feels like you’re making this as painful as possible.”

You smirk slightly. “Don’t give me any ideas.”

He sniffs, and you glance up to see him looking down at you, the ice that had been in his gaze before has thawed.

You squint at him, try to act indifferent, and turn your attention back to the stitches. “Don’t worry, I’m almost done.” 

“Thank fucking-”

“Shhh, you’re distracting me.”

His hand relaxes slightly as you keep working, slow and methodical, silence casting like a spell. 

“Why me?” you ask, finally.

“What?”

“Why did you come here? To me?” you pause. “It’s been forever. You’ve got Tess, right? Couldn’t she help you?”

Joel rubs his aching shoulder. “I didn’t want to scare her,” he answers. “And…I know you’re used to handling this kind of thing.”

“Uh-huh,” you say. “I am.”

One of you should probably acknowledge what had happened. But it won’t be me, you think.

“There,” you tie off the last stitch, and cover the wound with some gauze and a waterproof bandage. “You’ll probably need antibiotics. I’ll try to snag some from the hospital tomorrow.” 

Once you’ve fixed the most pressing issues, you focus on cleaning all the cuts and bruises on his face, his torso, cleaning and wrapping his bloodied knuckles. It’s probably been at least two hours since he arrived when you finally draw away from him, your surgical gloves snapping as you pull them inside-out, and off your hands, discarding them on the table, which is now littered with bloodied gauze, bandage wrappers, and medical supplies. You wish you had more ice packs than just the one for his shoulder and ankle, since he could use them just about everywhere, but it’ll have to do. 

“Could use a drink after all that,” Joel says, looking at his hands, flexing his fingers. 

“Don’t push it,” you answer, scraping the mess off your kitchen table into a bin. It dawns on you that you do have a half-empty bottle of bourbon sitting in your cabinet that’s surprisingly good. “But now that you mention it….” 

He snorts, the closest thing to a laugh you’ve ever heard. 

You pour a few fingers of whiskey into two glasses, sliding one across the table to him. Neither of you clink glasses, but you do eye each other over the rims of your cups as you take the drink in one go.

Joel places his empty on the table. “I should get out of here.”

“In your shape, it might be better to wait for light.” As much as he won’t admit it, you know he’s still weak, not in his right mind, and vulnerable to any FEDRA agents working the streets. “But I have to sleep, I’ve got work in the morning.”

Surprisingly, he doesn’t fight you. 

You curl yourself up on the couch, that is old and worn but still surprisingly comfortable. Joel sits at the table awhile more, and has one more drink. After all the activity of the night, you’re out within minutes. 

Joel drags himself over to the bed, which you’d never offered him directly, but he assumed to take since you were on the couch. He doesn’t think he’ll sleep, but he can’t sit upright in your uncomfortable kitchen chair anymore. Every part of his body aches. Your bed is in the corner, neatly made, even though it’s just threadbare sheets and a blanket. His never is, and he finds it ridiculous you must waste the time at the beginning of your day for something like that.

He sprawls across it, surprised at its comfort. A breeze coming through the open window drifts your curtains to the side, and he catches a glimpse of the full moon. Between the liquor, and the pills, the pain has subsided enough that he’s able to relax a little. The sun will be up soon. He just has to wait…

— — — — — —

The next thing Joel hears is your voice, muffled by the buffer of your front door. He looks at the clock next to your bed, it’s early in the evening. The sunlight trickling through the gaps of your curtains is golden, a slanting orange glow in the corner of the room. The window is closed. Fuck. Did he really sleep all day? He uses his good arm to shield his eyes from the offending light before stretching. 

Sheets on top of him rustle, he must have climbed under them at some point the night before.

It feels like he’s been hit by a freight train, and he groans. Pain drips through him, settles in his shoulder, his side, his head. His mouth is dry, and he sees a full glass of water next to him, two white pills. He couldn’t remember you leaving that morning, but it had to have been you who left them there. Who else would it have been? Without thinking, he indulges. 

There’s a note scrawled on a scrap of paper underneath the pills. He picks it up with his free arm, the other one still wrapped in a sling. 

– Take pain meds

– Ice shoulder, eye, temple, ankle

– Change dressing

– LEAVE

The last word is underlined twice. He exhales, letting his head drop back against the pillows, until it snaps to attention….you’re still outside, but your voice has gotten louder, more animated. You’re talking to someone….no…..you’re raising your voice at someone. He can’t make it out through the door, and for all the bad things he could say based on the nature of your relationship, he knows that you don’t often lose your temper. 

‘I think you should leave,’ he catches the end of what you’re saying and is immediately jolted out of the fog of discomfort, leaving your note on the bedside table.

He’s crosses the room, ignoring the protest of pain from his ankle, hears a man’s voice respond, but just a snippet – ‘stupid fucking bitch’ – and he’s throwing open the door, nearly trampling you, since you’re pressed against the threshold with your arms around your backpack, eyes wide. 

When Joel follows your gaze, he spots a man about your age standing a few feet away, chest puffed out and chin up. 

“Joel,” you say, and he’s taken aback by your tone – relief. He’s never heard you say his name like that. Somewhere, in a small part of his brain he doesn’t want to acknowledge, he thinks he might like to hear you say it again. 

“You didn’t tell me you had a boyfriend,” the guy tilts his head back to look up at Joel, giving him a once over, and steps backward in consideration. 

Instead of correcting him, you say nothing. 

“What’s going on here?” Joel asks, and you lower your arms, move your shoulders back, standing up straighter as you turn to look at him.

“Ben was just leaving,” you say. 

“Sounds like a good idea,” Joel answers. His hand instinctively comes to rest on your shoulder – reverent, protective. He knows he’s in no shape to get into a fight right now, but he’s significantly larger than the other man, and figures that alone will be enough of a deterrent.

Ben notices, and nose curls into a snarl, rolling his eyes. “Fine, whatever. He’s like…old enough to be your dad,” he mumbles under his breath.

You don’t answer, just stare with contempt as he retreats down the hallway. Once Ben has turned the corner, you step into your place, Joel’s hand falling from your shoulder. 

“Who was that?”

“Just some guy from work,” you say, sounding uninterested, dropping your backpack onto your kitchen table.

“How often does he–?”

“Let’s not get into it,” you shake your head as you pull open the curtains, sunlight casting warmth all over the room, specks of dust glittering in the air. But he wants to know more. He’s tried to ignore all the suffering that isn’t his own since the world went to shit, but he’s at least aware of how dangerous it is to be a woman, living on her own.

“I didn’t think you’d still be here, did you sleep all day?” 

Joel doesn’t answer.

“You probably needed it.”

You disappear into the bathroom, and Joel sees a rush of light through that door, the creak of a window opening. “I brought the antibiotics, they’re in my bag,” you say when you exit, hands on your hips. “You’re not feeling feverish, are you?”

Joel shakes his head no, and sits back down on the bed. 

“Well that’s good,” you go to the counter. “Hey, if you need to shower here, it’s probably better because I can dress your wound before you go. I was actually thinking today about how you would definitely fuck it up if you tried to do it youself.”

He rolls his eyes at the insult, but answers. “That’s fine.”

You’re making yourself something to eat. He notices a polaroid on your bedside table. It’s two kids – a girl and a younger boy, her arms around him – their lips curled into identical smiles. When he looks closer, he realizes the girl is you. 

Please? My brother is sick, he’s in a lot of pain, you had said, on your knees in front of him, swallowing hard. Your fingers were curled in his belt loops, the cold steel button of his jeans pressed into your chin, so close he thought it might leave a permanent mark. In one of your hands was a wad of credits, only a couple short of what he’d asked you for in exchange for the pills. I’ll do anything you want me to.

Of course he wanted you, how could he not? He wondered if you knew that already, and were just trying to take advantage of his weakness. Or maybe you were just that desperate. It didn’t matter either way. He can’t do it. Not like this, he thought. 

No, is his answer.

He stepped backwards, away and you still tried to cling to him. Sensing his reluctance, you continued to talk.  Joel, whatever you want. I’ll do whatever, please…it’s nothing. Eventually, he slipped from your grasp, and you fell back to your heels. He left you there, and he didn’t look back.

The memory is burned into his brain, and has followed him to sleep more times than he’d be willing to admit. He swallows hard, and you’re standing in front of him with an opened jar of applesauce and a spoon against your lips. “Are you looking through my shit?” you ask. 

“It was sitting out.” 

You snatch the photo from his hand so quickly that one of your nails knicks his thumb, shoving it in your back pocket and jerking your head towards the bathroom. “Hurry, I can’t be up late like last night.”

The shower feels nice, even if the pressure is shit and the water is cold. He still has blood caked under his fingernails that he can’t seem to fully eradicate even after scrubbing them against his palms. He slips back into his jeans when he’s done, and he notices a clean shirt has been left on the bed when he exits. 

“You done?” your voice calls. There’s the sound of a book snapping shut, your weight shifting on the couch. “I want my bed back.”

Joel grunts an affirmation, and you round the corner with the tin of medical supplies from the night before, discarding what you were reading on the foot of the bed. “This’ll take two minutes. Let me see.” Pausing in front of him, you press your fingers, a little experimentally, along his ribs, peering closer to examine your work. “Oh, this looks good. It should heal nicely.”

“It doesn’t feel good.”

“Uh-huh, but it’ll get better. Give it time.”

He sits down while you shimmy out of your flannel shirt. You begin to work, quietly, quickly, and at first, he tries to look away, at the top of the bedside table where you’ve placed a bag of antibiotics and a fresh glass of water. The note that was there earlier, with instructions on how to take care of himself in your absence, that also told him to LEAVE, is gone. He gives in and turns back to you, knelt between his legs like it’s nothing, pressing an adhesive bandage across the wound. 

He’s not sure why he had expected you to be cruel. You should be cruel, he knows that, but you aren’t. Your touch is confident, firm, and surprisingly tender. It must be muscle memory, he thinks, because he’s never known you to be sweet. Maybe he hadn’t been paying close enough attention.

“There,” you say, pulling away. “Now, I’d recommend changing that once a day at least, if you can. Take an antibiotic once a day, and make sure you do the full course. Ice your elbow, eye, ankle, all that every couple hours. Also, you should really use a sling for at least a month-”

“No.” He knows he won’t do any of those things, can’t really afford to between work, life, and resources.

“Suit yourself.”

“I will.”

You don’t scoff or roll your eyes at him or try to convince him why he should, and it’s like a peace offering. I could fight you on this, because I’m smart, but I won’t. It’s everything you’re saying, but you’re silent, and you sit on the edge of your bed a foot or two away, poking your fingers into the laces of your boots, untying them. 

“I’m sorry.”

Joel says it before he can stop himself. He can’t remember the last time he’s said those two words.

You balk at him. “For what?” 

Everything. “Your brother.”

“Oh,” you say, focusing back on your feet, pulling them out of your boots and pressing your thumbs into each arch. You shrug, shake your head.  “Yeah, well….I’m just glad he’s not in pain anymore.” 

“Yeah.”

“...And at least it wasn’t….you know…” The infection. 

He nods, takes a beat.

“I should get going,” Joel says, his hands on his knees. “The next time you need something-” 

“Uh-huh,” you cut him off tersely. “Right.”

“All I’m saying is that I owe you one.”

“You really think I believe that, coming from you?” You snort, shake your head, and reach to pat his leg in a patronizing way, until his hand lands atop your own. He thinks it might make him feel better, to see if your reaction to his touch gives anything away. But it doesn’t. Everything about you is rigid, cool. 

“I’m sorry….about that night,” he decides, purposely changing the subject. “But I don’t make exceptions.”

“Right. Then, I guess I’m a fool for doing this,” you gesture towards him, with your free hand - all the work you’d done. 

Joel shakes his head no, fingers tightening around your hand, clasping it hard. He’s sure, or at least he hopes, somehow, you can see it. That this isn’t a jab, that he means it. 

I’m sorry. 

You look down at where his hand is squeezing yours, and he watches your throat work once. 

“No,” he begins. “You just have every reason to hate me.”

A wistful smile crosses your face, but it’s hard to decipher what it means. To him, you’re still unreadable, even staring right at him. Most people avoid Joel’s eyes at all costs, but not you. You slide your hand out from underneath his, and he thinks for a second you’re going to retaliate. His body is facing yours, his hair is still damp, dripping onto his bare skin. It doesn’t stop you from placing your hands on either one of his shoulders, and learning forward. 

The white tank top you’re wearing clings to every curve of your body, except where it’s shifted off your shoulder, revealing a black bra strap. It’s intoxicating to have you this close. You must be able to hear the way his heart picks up, thuds heavy against his ribs, being so close to him.

“You think I hate you…” you say quietly, voice a low murmur, tilting your head, studying him. “That’s why you want me, isn’t it?”

This is why he’s never liked you. That uncanny ability to stare right through him, crack open the camera, spool out the film. 

“Isn’t it?” you prompt, when all he can offer is silence.

Of course it is. It is always easier when hate is involved. Hate bolds the blurry lines, boils everything down to its simplest point – that’s all that this would be, just two people trying to escape, if only for a little bit. And you, he’s sure, would make it so easy. 

“Yes,” he answers, though he’s not sure if he believes it. In this case, hate is just another medium to channel energy through. Passionate energy. True hate, maybe, would be your indifference. And neither of you are indifferent.

“Well….” you lean forward, your lips are nearly touching. He’s still frozen. “Maybe I do hate you.”

It’s a beat before anything happens, a few seconds of uninterrupted eye contact, your eyes have darkened, pupils wide. 

He pounces on you, ignoring the scream of soreness through his body as he cups both sides of your face, his tongue already scraping on your teeth, swallowing the surprised noise you make, which he finds ridiculous because what did you think was going to happen, talking to him like that?

But you can’t be that shocked, because your arms have tightened around his shoulders, you’re pulling him closer, he’s pulling you closer. A tightrope, about to snap. 

He wraps himself around you protectively, you feel so small there, he’s aware how easily he could break you, but he won’t. Or at least…he’ll try not to. 

You break away first. “Fuck.”

Your lips are full, wet, flush, parted, and you’re panting. He pulls you back against him, and you oblige, much more pliant this time, letting him claim you. Two sets of hands fumbling for purchase. 

“I do want you.”

“Then have me.”

He pulls you onto his lap, still sitting on the edge of the bed, and it’s shameful how easily you move there, settle your weight across his hips. You’re warm, so warm…too warm. His skin pricks.

Your hands thread into his hair and tug, it’s heavenly. He’s not used to being touched like this.. Grinding down, you find him already already rock hard – he has been since you were knelt in front of him cleaning his stitches, but he’d been trying to ignore it – and he moans. “You like that?” 

He hums into your mouth, agreeable. Yes. 

Joel wants to touch you, won’t be satisfied if he can’t, and he tugs at the hem of your shirt. You pull back, just for a split second to pull it over your head. It takes him a moment, but he still remembers how to unclasp a bra with one hand, and you’re bare before him. All he has to do is run a calloused palm up your spine and you’re arching your body closer, until he can mouth at your breasts. 

You sigh as he cups, squeezes, pinches. Latches onto one of your nipples and grazes his teeth over it, watching you closely….your eyes closed, head falling back, murmuring. Yes.

What he wants to do is to lift you up, spin you around, and press your back against the mattress. He wants to spread you open across the bed, put his head between your thighs and lave at you like a man starved. He wants to hear every way you can cry, moan, whimper his name as his tongue works your clit, fingers in your cunt, washing over him. Of course, he’d go gentle at first – not too gentle – but gentle enough, work you up. He wants to dangle you over the ledge, hold you there until you’re begging to be let go. And after you finally come, pulsing around his fingers, he’d wrap your legs around his hips and fuck you into the mattress until you do it again. After the first time, he thinks, it’d be even easier to get you to do it again. And again. Would you face his steely gaze head on, eyes fluttering? Would your nails scrape track marks down his back? Would you stifle a moan by sinking your teeth into the pulse point on his neck? He wants to- no, needs to know.

But he’s weak right now, and can’t do any of that. He’ll settle for what he can get.

Your fingers are twisting the button on his pants. “Come on,” you murmur. 

“You shouldn’t want me,” he warns.

“I know.” But I still do.

Your hand is down his pants, and he shifts his weight backwards to wiggle further out of them. It’s far more hurried than either of you deserve. You don’t even attempt to tease him through his boxers first, your hand wrapping around him in one swift and confident movement. 

Hissing, Joel sees you duck your head, feels the press your lips against his neck, his cock jumping in your grip as you run your thumb over the head, pump him once.

“You’re so big,” your voice is all breathy and soft, the sound of it has him growing even more frantic. He tugs at the loops on the side of your jeans. 

“Take these off.”

Yes. There’s no protest.

It’s torture when you leave his lap, for the brief time you do, his gaze tracing the curve of your ass as you wriggle out of your pants, then your panties, and when your return to him, he holds you closer.

“I knew you’d be so fucking good for me.”

“Did you?” It's playful, breathless, your arms around his neck. The lightest he’s ever heard you. 

You’re wet, already dripping onto him, and he dips a finger between your thighs, sliding it through your slickness, dipping into you just so, enjoying the noises you make before withdrawing. It’s a shame he can’t take his time. He’s too impatient. One of his hands he uses to guide his cock to your cunt, and the other he uses to steady your hips. His head drops to watch himself sink into you. 

The stretch of him inside you makes your toes curl, you’re already pulsing around him and he hasn’t even given you everything.

“Fuck,” Joel whispers your name when he feels you around him, all-encompassing and overwhelming. “So fucking good.”

You’re whining, but it’s unintelligible, your head bobbing into an enthusiastic nod, teeth snagging your lower lip. When he’s reached the hilt, you pause only for a moment before you begin to move on your own accord. Experimental rolls of your hips, not drawing back far at all, keeping him deep inside you, rutting and writhing with no reprieve. He thinks he might come right then and there, it’s been so long, and it’s you. This young, pretty thing who – if this whole fucking world hadn’t gone to shit – wouldn’t have looked twice at him before. It’s just another injustice – that you’re going to let someone like him ruin you.

You begin to bounce on him, dragging yourself along his length. “That’s a good fucking girl,” he groans. “Just like that.” 

“It’s so…fuck, Joel, you feel-”

“I know.” He answers, partially in agreement, and partially to shut you up. If you keep saying his name like that, it’s not going to end well. 

He tries as best as he can to answer your hips with ruts of his own, but it’s sloppy, erratic. The whole thing is, and he wants to curse himself because it really shouldn’t be, just like he shouldn’t be thinking about what he’ll do differently next time. 

It’s the first time he’s been with you, so he doesn’t know what it feels like when you’re getting close, but you’re throbbing and pulsing around him, your breathy pants and soft sighs start sounding more desperate. 

You’re so fucking wet he can hear it, can feel it seeping out, dripping down his balls onto the mattress. He realizes one of his hands is just clenched into a fist, nails digging into his palm, trying his hardest not to come before you do. All he wants is to give you something, a chance to make up for everything that he’s taken.

“More,” you murmur, you don’t even seem to remember, or care, that he’s hurt. That you’d spent hours the night before after he’d been torn apart, putting him back together. “More, please.” 

His lips quirk into a boyish smile, something you’ve never seen before. He likes you like this, begging, desperate, sweet. “Don’t laugh,” but your lips are quirking, too, and you fucking nuzzle against his beard to hide it.

“I’m not - fuck.”

The shower was useless, he’s already sweating again, but so are you, and he trails his tongue across your neck to taste it, then unclenches his fist, moving it between your legs. He takes your clit between his knuckles, circling it carefully, steadily, while his cock keeps hitting the same, soft spot over and over again. 

You can’t get enough. “Harder, Joel…please.”

Of course, he obliges. And he’s lucky, because he doesn’t have to do much more. You slow, legs shaking, and you’re suddenly so tight around him he can’t move. “That’s it, baby, come on, so fucking good…” he would, is, saying anything to feel you. His name is a mewl on your lips, the rubber-band snaps, and you come around him, pressing every part of yourself against the hard line of his torso. He aches, it’s the sweetest torture he’s ever known. 

He knows, because he’s going to fuck you through it, has to, that he will not last any longer. 

“Where?” he pants, and you’re still peaking, gasping, grabbing. 

“Inside me,” you answer. “Please, inside me.”

He’s too lost in the moment to consider the consequences. Doesn’t care about them at all. When he comes, you groan at the feeling of him fucking you full, cunt still squeezing him, not as tightly as before, but still apparent.

The last bit of arousal is still waning, and he leans back to lie on the bed, pulling you with him. You fall to his chest, hands pressing lightly to adjust your position, suddenly aware again of the wound beneath his ribs, the bruises on his shoulder, settling so you’re pressed against his side, his arm still loose around your waist.

Neither of you say anything for a long time, and he notices your legs are trembling. 

We shouldn’t have done that, he wants you to say, as you should. But you show no signs of remorse.

Before all this, when he was a different man, he would’ve helped clean you up after. He would have soothed you in the aftermath; stroked your hair, peppered kisses along your neck, your cheeks, pulled you close so you could fall asleep in his arms. He can’t now, because you’re smart and you’d know what it means, but the guilt gnaws at him. 

When you sit up, pulling your shirt back over your head, sliding on your panties, and walking towards the bathroom, he imagines you think you’re doing him a favor. You are, in a way. Or maybe, you’re resisting the same impulse that he is.

You return a few minutes later, wrapped in a tattered robe, and climb next to him on the bed, propping yourself up on your elbows, then looking down at him. Between the combination of being tired, stiff, and fucked-out, he still hasn’t moved. 

“Don’t you think Tess is worried about where you are?” You bend your knees back and cross your ankles. 

“She knows I can take care of myself.”

Your eyebrow quirks. Can you? Joel turns away and stares up at the water-damaged ceiling panels.

“You should probably go.” 

His head snaps back towards you. He thinks of every person over the last twenty years he’d said the equivalent to after sex, and wonders if it made them feel as nauseous as he does hearing those words from your mouth.

The feeling fades – only a little – when you reach over to press your palm to the side of his face, cupping his cheek, before tenderly moving a piece of damp hair off his forehead, nails scraping against his scalp.

He lets his eyes close just for a beat, before nodding and sitting up. “Thank you,” he says, and he’s not sure what for. All of it, he supposes.

“Uh-huh,” you roll over, reaching to grab your book that had fallen to the floor at some point during your coupling, while he pulls on his clothes, laces up his boots, and takes the antibiotics from your bedside table.

Joel takes one last look at you, already engrossed in your reading, and then walks to the door.

“You know where to find me, if you need anything.”

You look up, nod, and he’s gone.

— — — — — —

part ii

[skythealmighty]

man. there are so many object shows out there. I NEED TO CATCH UP ON SO MANY why are the4e so many anyway Exclamation Mark (NOT AB) im killing you. he would get bullied off tumblr

#rocket talk #roc save #NOT THE ANIMATIC BATTLE ONE that ones fine #i mean the one in my header #hes an asshole #why do i keep accidentally hitting the number keys lately

(7 notes)

📉 storyboard-but-better Follow

i cant believe my contestants are so pissy over the second challenge still!!!! it was a coherent challenge i think "survive me killing you" is pretty straightforward!!! besides theyre fine now >:/

⏰ timeisatool Follow

Maybe it's becausw you killed them?

📉 storyboard-but-better Follow

well thats stupid

⚪ fuckingcircles Follow

I KNOW RIGHT!! my old contestants got SO pissy when i killed th3m!! just because theres no recovery... 😒

⏰ timeisatool Follow

You dont have recovery????

⭐ everybody-smile-smile-smile Follow

arent u supposed to be dead

⚪ fuckingcircles Follow

well im NOT so

❗ black-and-red Follow

Ugh, I haven't even killed anyone that much and they're still pissy! Honestly... just do the challenges and you'll be fine! I only threatened them..

⭐ everybody-smile-smile-smile Follow

well i thought i killed circle but ig not! and square but nobody else died idk why everuones so afraid of me... whats so wrong w wanting to make a perfect object show?

⏰ timeisatool Follow

Um

🔥 betterheatsflamesman Follow

yeah theres nothing wrong with that! you gotta do what you gotta do for your object show

⏰ timeisatool Follow

😰😰😰😰😰

⏰ timeisatool Follow

I want to leave this group...

#i thought we were all just supposed to be wacky and weird 😰😰 #mom come pick me up im scared...

(34 notes)

🔥🔃 betterheatsflamesman Follow reblogged 🪔 slay-style-queen

🪔 slay-style-queen Follow

Hey guys, just managed to get sponsored with my object show idea!!! (No thanks to you Lip Stick lol) wish me luck!! Also go keep an eye out on Village of Objects Official :D

🪔 slay-style-queen Follow

what the FUCK

🪔 slay-style-queen Follow

oh my god how do you all stay sane actually

4️⃣ four-therecord Follow

we don't! welcome to the club

🪔 slay-style-queen Follow

im never doing this again

#:)

(4,294 notes)

📻 annie-annie-ooh Follow

Who's Animatic?

#It's Your Fridge DJ! #I appreciate all the lovemail and the concern! ❤ #I don't understand some of the asks but thank you anyway!

(725 notes)

🧪🔃 test-tubular Follow reblogged 💥 fans-fantastic-features

🫵 have-you-heard-of-this-os Follow

Have YOU heard of:

🫵 have-you-heard-of-this-os Follow

Please stop debating on whether or not this "counts" as an object show, this was requested by an anon. If you want to do that on your own time on your own blog, feel free!

💥 fans-fantastic-features Follow

SORRY ABOUT THAT SJEHSKEB will move i promise 🙏

anyWAY on another note i miss this showww 😭 i was so intrigued about it but i guess i understand its cancellation... if anyone wants to come up with a rewrite w me hmu my ao3 is in my desc!!!!

⭐ everybody-smile-smile-smile Follow

just as long as you clarify its unofficial!! (:

💥 fans-fantastic-features Follow

its on ao3 ofc its unofficial

💥 fans-fantastic-features Follow

WAIT A GODDAMN SECON

#Fan we were /on/ an object show and technically famous I'm not sure why you're surprised at this point #Also get off your phone we're at Purgatory Mansion

(11,374 notes)

anonymous asked: hey greeny can you say trans rights for everyone out there

🟢 greenyguy Follow

trans rights AND trans wrongs. even if you like burger king i still support you <3

#burger king sucks ass tho dont do that to urself

(34,193 notes)

💥 fans-fantastic-features asked: im SO sorry for the sudden reply earlier, up until your post i thought hfjone was just some weird wild experimental show?? then again i shouldnt be surprised if happy star themselves is on this goddamn site (also sorry in advance for my friend TT sending you asks about alternate universes. shes a science nerd of all types and needs data or sm) if you want i can tell you what i know about your situation in a private chat, ive done a lot of deep dive analysis posts on my blog too and trust me when i say a LOT of the internet wants to help free you and everyone else you have plenty of help available spotty replies tho im investigating smth

🎒 liam-plecak Follow

I... yeah, I'd like that. Thanks.

(34 notes)

anonymous asked: battery ui is kind of already jailed but still

🔒 your-fav-would-be-jailed Follow

Battery from Ultimate Insanity would be jailed!

🔋 theft-and-battery Follow

Yeah

#Why did someone earlier send in that Walkie Talkie person? #I approve of the Blender submission though #Hate that guy

(12 notes)

🎒🔃 liam-plecak Follow reblogged 💥 fans-fantastic-features

🕹 fire-cartoon-schtick Follow

cant have shit in this fuckass hotel 😒😒😒 lens just died 😔😔

🕹 fire-cartoon-schtick Follow

#WHAT THE FUCK #DONT JUST DROP SMTH LIKE THAT AND DIP #ARE YOU OKAY?? #ARE YOU TALKING ABT A GAME???

hi! rhanks for the concern! 😁 i am unfortunately not talking about a game lens is actually dead please help me (dms r open 🙏🙏)

#Since I've gotten a lot of followers recently I feel like I should boost this #I'm busy with my own issues but maybe someone else can help?

(5,204 notes)

⚪ fuckingcircles Follow

i want my SHOW BACK i want my CO HOSTS BACK i want calculatory DEAD i only MILDLY HATE happy star i dont KNOW WHAT ELSE TO COMPLAIN ABOUT

🥝 gela-not-jelly Follow

🫵 Fanny kinnie

⚪ fuckingcircles Follow

who the FUCK is fanny

#im CIRCLE not a goddamn FAN #who even names themselves fanny anyway

(382 notes)

⚪battleforcircle asked: oml spiderman pointing meme

⚪ fuckingcircles Follow

you sent me this FIFTEEN TIMES get OUT of my ASKBOX!!!!

📉 storyboard-but-better Follow

why are there two of you...

⚪ fuckingcircles Follow

theres only ONE of me i dont know who this IS!!

⚪battleforcircle Follow

theres three of us just three of us

#idk why either tbh #tumblr just recommended his acc to me one day #he seems fun to annoy tho so ive taken it upon myself to do so #tee hee

(89 notes)

📶 she-walkie-on-my-talkie-till Follow

Hey so why is a known criminal on Tumblr?

📶 she-walkie-on-my-talkie-till Follow

Hello???

[bloody-peach]

The Sun Always Shines on TV (Hazbin Hotel: Vox x Reader)

SURPRISE! I'm not dead! So my buddy @omniuravity got me into Hazbin and especially my new husband Vox, and after a few headcanon chats, I just HAD to write something. So I did. Is it canon to Vox's behavior? I dunno, I haven't seen the full season, but I've seen clips, and I think I at least got a vague idea. So, sorry if not, but oh well. Still fun! This was kind of done in a rush of hyperfixation, so sorry if it's a bit rough. Anyways, enjoy!

Taglist: @fatgumsurpremacy-remastered @neonvehk @omniuravity and anyone else who loves Hazbin and Vox!

~~~♡♡♡~~~

It was midnight when the hourglass finally ran out. The counter read '000', showing that time was up. You knew what today was.

Extermination Day was here again.

The day where angels would come down to hell and massacre hundreds of sinners as a form of population control. You could hear the screams of terror outside as crowds of sinners would scurry and try to escape their fates. You could've easily been in that crowd, getting impaled through the gut by an angel's spear.

Vox pulls you close to him, his arm around you as he watched the carnage from the couch on the large TV. He knew that it was hard for you to watch sinners get butchered alive, so he would let you hide your face in his chest when things got gory. When he heard you whimper, he looks at you, a concerned look on his face, saying, "You ok, Y/N?" You look at him and nod, "Yeah..it's just...it could be me out there...what if I'm next?" Vox brushed a lock of your hair behind your ear and said, "You won't be. As long as I'm here, you're safe. I won't let them hurt you." You hug him, snuggling in his chest for comfort, glad that he was there.

In truth, Vox was just as scared as you were. You could easily be in the crosshair of an angel if you were out on the streets. He would low-key panic if you weren't there with him each Extermination Day. He couldn't stand the idea of losing you, not to anything or anyone.

He still remembers seeing you watch his show from an electronics storefront. He noticed how you were drawn to the show, but somehow, his hypnosis didn't have an effect on you. But he was amazed that even without it, you still tuned in and watched with excitement. That day, he felt there was something special about you, so he kept a close eye on you, watching you through various tv screens when you weren't looking. Then one day, he met you through a chance encounter.

You worked at Valentino's studio as the camera operator and Vox happened to show up one day. You caught a glimpse of Vox talking with Valentino and you couldn't stop staring at him. You felt a ball of anxiety in your gut build as you watched him, admiring his good looks, charismatic attitude, and mesmerizing voice. You couldn't help but swoon to yourself.

"Y/N! Are you listening?!" Valentino's voice broke your daze and you quickly ran to him, so not to enrage him. "I-I'm sorry sir! I-I just sent the footage to the editor and they'll get it done right away!" Vox saw as Val smiled at you and he felt a bit of rage. He didn't like how Val looked at you with his sleazy gaze, undressing you with his eyes. He's the only one who should be allowed to do that.

Once you started to walk away, Vox trips you and you start to fall, but he catches you before you could hit the ground. You look at him and could feel your face blush and your heart flutter. You stood up and bowed your head, "I'm sorry sir!" "Hey, no need to apologize. And no need to call me 'sir', either. Just call me Vox. Now, who may you be?" "I..I'm Y/N..." "Y/N...what a nice name. So you work for Val?" You nod, saying, "Yeah, I work the camera." Vox walks closer to you, saying, "Oh, sweetheart, your cute face doesn't deserve to be hidden behind a camera. It deserves to be displayed on TV." You blushed pure red and Vox knew he had you in his grasp.

Vox buys you off of Val and he lets you live with him at his mansion. While you were amazed by the opulence an overlord possessed, all that mattered to you was that you were with Vox. As things went on, Vox noticed how caring you were towards him, comforting him when he was stressed out over Alastor or helping him fix his screen or repair his wires when he gets hurt. He would always turn to you for comfort before anyone else. He always enjoyed being around you, loving the way you laughed, smiled, made jokes, everything. Eventually, he realized that he was in love with you.

When Extermination Day came, you were just leaving the porn studio from a long night of doing re-shoots. The bell rang and you felt your heart sink. You tried to look where to hide, pushing your way through the screaming crowd. You pass by the electronics shop when you hear a familiar voice. "Y/N! Over here!" You turned and saw Vox's face on a screen. "Vox! It's time! Extermination Day! Oh my god, what do I do?!" "Listen to me, you're not too far from where I am. Find a place to hide and stay there, I'll come get you. Ok?" You nod, tears in your eyes. He sees your fear and says in a comforting voice before signing off, "It'll be okay, Y/N. I won't let them hurt you."

With that, you look and find a dumpster. You immediately hop inside and hide, keeping quiet. Seconds felt like minutes, and minutes felt like hours as you laid there, your anxiety and fear through the roof. You kept hoping that Vox would get there soon. You then feel a wire coil around your waist and pull you out of the dumpster and hold you. You look and see it was Vox, carrying you and rushing back to his house, dodging any angel nearby.

Once you got inside, Vox grabbed you and held you, causing your emotions to crash over you as the adrenaline ran out. You hugged him tightly and cried into his chest. "Shh, shh, it's okay now, Y/N. I'm here. You're safe. You're..safe..."

You could hear tears choked up in his voice and he hugged you tightly as you both dropped to your knees. He tried to hold back his tears, but he couldn't.

He could've lost you. When he heard the bells ring, he was so scared. He needed to find you and take you home. He couldn't lose you. He couldn't. Not you. He scanned every television in the district to find you and was so relieved when he did. He rushed out the door and ran towards the studio. And now that you were here in his arms, where he knew you were safe, he started to break down. His screen started to glitch and his audio started to skip as he tried to control himself. He was usually an narcissistic egomaniac, caring about himself, but when it came to you..it was all different. He needed you.

"Vox.."

"Y/N..please...stay with me...don't go...I love you..please..."

Those words made you cry even more, out of joy now.

"Vox...I love you too..."

"Y/N.."

And with that, you both cry out your built up emotions and soon, you both were in bed together, forgetting the world outside and only listening to each other's moans and words of love.

Ever since, Vox claimed your soul and you were now permanently his. From now on, you were under his protection. If any demon fucked with you or disrespected you, that was a direct insult to him and they would be dealt with. You would work as his assistant and co-host on some of his shows, entertaining thousands of viewers all over Hell. And whenever Extermination Day hit, you stayed at home with him, sitting with him on the couch and listening to him cheer and laugh as each sinner was killed. Sometimes it helped you, other times it didn't. But he knew that.

Vox stands up from the couch and shuts off the TV, saying "Come on, let's get to bed. It should be over soon anyways." You nod, following him. It's not too long til you both lay in bed, holding each other close. The bedroom was higher up from the ground floor, so the screams and sounds of death were much more distant. You lay your head on his chest and you hear his circuits buzzing rapidly, a sign of his anxiety. You lift your head and look at him, concerned. "Vox? Are you okay, honey?" He looks at you and smiles, but his face gave away that today kind of disturbs him too. It would remind him of the day that he almost lost you. He cupped your cheek and said softly, "I am, knowing that you're with me." You smile and lean up, kiss him softly and tenderly, the kiss showing so much love. Vox reciprocated the kiss and held you close. Once you broke the kiss, you hear the bell ring out, signaling the end of the annual massacre. Vox chuckled, saying, "Perfect. Now I can get some sleep. Night, babe." You lay on him, your head resting on his chest as you respond, "Night, sweetie. I love you." Vox wrapped his arms around you, gently rubbing your back as he said softly, "I love you too, Y/N."

~~~♡♡♡~~~

I hope you all like it!!

[not-the-living-ghost]

Charles saying "we don't know what my afterlife looks like" is actually kind of sad, when you think about it.

From the perspective of Edwin, or anyone watching Dead Boy Detectives, it's obvious that Charles wouldn't be sent to Hell. In fact, throughout both the show, and the DBDA fandom, it's continuously brought up that Charles chose to stay with Edwin, rather than spend an eternity in Heaven — as if this were an objectively true statement, and not an assumption. Charles is protective of his friends, he's kind, and he's extraordinarily compassionate, so of course he'd be sent to Heaven. However, Charles doesn't necessarily see himself in that light. Rather than seeing a boy who's willing to protect his friends, he sees himself as violent, as a reflection of his father. As we see in Episode 5, Charles mentions constantly being plagued by the fear that he's secretly not a good person. So despite all the good that he's done throughout his life — and death — I doubt he strongly believes that he'll be sent to Heaven.

Of course, knowing Charles, he would've chosen to stay with Edwin either way. And don't get me wrong, I'm totally in love with the idea of someone rejecting "a potentially tranquil eternity" to stay on Earth with their boyfriend best friend, I just found that scene thought-provoking and I'm surprised I haven't seen anyone else talking about it.

[missingexaltation]

A few years after Vecna, Steve gets invited back to the high school to play in a charity basketball match with (and against) other Hawkins basketball alumni. It's for charity, and he misses the rush of playing (and he kinda wants to see if he's still any good), so he agrees.

He asks Eddie if he'll be there, but although Eddie's somewhat enthusiastic to Steve's face, he whines about it for days to Wayne. He fucking hates sports, why did he have to fall for a fucking jock, of all things. UUUGH! Wayne puts up with it for a while before realising that Eddie's not going to talk himself around, and gives him a blunt, verbal kick in the ass.

"You think your boy enjoys watching your dungeon and dragons shtick, son?" He asks, sipping at his beer.

Eddie's offended, immediately.

"He's never missed a session, course he loves it." he says. "And i know he pays attention because we talk about it afterwards and he's always..."

"And how's that make you feel?" Wayne interrupts.

"Fucking amazing." Eddie grumbles, knowing what's coming, and hating it.

"...and how do you talk about his hobbies?"

Eddie sighs and covers his face. Wayne carries on, knowing he's made his point but hammering it home nonetheless.

"Your boy loves his sports, he's always here just in time to watch the games with me nowadays. And don't think I haven't noticed how bored you are when it's on. I reckon he's noticed too."

Eddie's silent, starting at the ceiling with a dramatic, melancholy pout.

"Ah shit." He sighs. "I'm a bad boyfriend, aren't I?"

"Maybe. Maybe not. But learn from it if you want to be better." Wayne shrugs. "He makes you happy by indulging in your hobbies, maybe you should think about doing the same. Guarantee it'll put a smile on your boy's face, if nothing else."

So next time Steve brings it up, (tentatively, like he knows Eddie will complain) Eddie is much more genuinely enthusiastic. Steve's surprised for a split second (and doesn't that hurt), before he's beaming and looking absolutely delighted. And shit, yeah ok. It does make Eddie feel good to see Steve happy. Course it does.

The game rolls around, and hell yeah, it's boring to watch. Eddie's been reading up on the rules, so he's not entirely confused, but it just seems so pointless. Steve's good though. From what he's seen (and he's totally not biased, thanks) Steve's running rings around the other team, and Eddie's so fucking proud! It helps that Steve's in those shorts, showing off damn near the full length of his legs.

More importantly, he looks so fucking happy while he's playing. He keeps shooting Eddie these big, beaming smiles when they've scored a hoop, or point, or whatever they're called, and Eddie finds himself melting where he sits, face aching from smiling so much in return.

By the end of the game Eddie's fully invested. Sure, he barely understands what's going on, but even he knows enough that getting the ball in the hoop is a good thing, and Steve does it loads. Their team wins, and there's a huge group hug, pats on the back and other sporty, manly things before they all part ways and start making their way out to the parking lot.

Eddie stays put. He knows Steve will come right to him, and he does. They walk back to Steve's car together, and Steve's on some sort of winner's high; all smiles and cocky strutting. It's kinda hot. Screw that, it's totally hot, and suddenly Eddie's glad that Wayne's working tonight and they've got the place to themselves.

"Surprised you lasted the whole game, Eds." Steve says, teasingly, before he just downs a water bottle. "Thought you'd have died of boredom halfway though."

"Pssh." Eddie waves him off, trying not to feel embarrassed. "You know, Stevie, you're pretty amazing at that." He waves his hand vaguely back towards the court. "That shot you made from almost the centre? Chills, baby, full on chills."

Steve doesn't even bother checking to see if anyone's watching. He slams Eddie against the side of his car and kisses him, cradling Eddie's face with his hands, as though he'd die if he didn't have full body contact.

And Eddie knows the feeling. Like when Steve had recounted a particularly awesome moment from his campaign, and all Eddie had wanted to do was drag him right to the bedroom.

Steve pulls away.

"Get in." He said, opening the car door for Eddie like the gentleman he is.

And fuck, if this is the reaction he gets for paying attention, then he's definitely doing it more. If he's honest with himself, he should have been doing it from day one, but yeah sometimes he's a bit dense and needs a push in the right direction.

So basketball's boring as shit usually, but when Steve's playing? Hell yeah. He'll even put up with listening about it (and even football), if it puts that smile on Stevie's face. That's the price for dating a jock, he guesses, but it's miniscule, and it's fucking worth it.

[haven-anyone-would-yearn-for]

seen a few ppl talking about this line:

saying he might be taking about Danny Stoker, Tim's brother.

they seem to have missed this line:

Turner, not Stoker.

it's real easy to get excited about returning characters or parallels. I'm simply surprised i haven't seen anyone else point this out yet

[alyyybrooke]

drunken love

tara carpenter x fem!reader

Tara and R haven't had their first kiss yet. At a party, R gets a little bold.

Warnings: alcohol, smoking

word count: 1.9k

Tara pulled up to the house in which the party she told you about was held. You could see the bright neon lights through the windows, each one packed with people. The music was blaring so loud you could hear it within Tara's car. A few people were out in the front yard, where they laughed stupidly at their moronic drinking games. As you stepped out, you shivered instantly, surprised at the bitter cold. Tara shut her door and walked over to you, offering you her hand. You blushed and laced your fingers with hers, letting her lead you to the party. Even before you entered, you could feel the vibration of the music in your feet.

You and Tara have been dating for the past few weeks. It was fairly new, but you've never felt feelings like this with anyone before. You looked over at her as you walked, and she smiled at you, making your stomach churn. When you opened the door, a thick, pungent odor of sweat and alcohol hit your nose.

"Oh, Jesus," you muttered, scrunching your nose in disgust.

"Oh, relax. We all know you'll be drinking tonight," Tara smirked teasingly beside you.

"Well yeah but, I always forget how gross parties are."

She giggled at your complaints and took you to go find some drinks. Bodies of other teenagers pressed against your own, cups in every hand. The kitchen was extremely crowded, with everyone trying to drink their nerves away. Grabbing a cup, Tara poured a dark, amber colored drink for the both of you.

"Shot to start off the night?" she asked, wiggling her eyebrows playfully.

"Hell yeah." The bitterness of the drink burned pleasantly in your throat.

"Hey!" you heard a voice call. It was Chad, accompanied by Mindy and some other people you've never seen before. "You guys came!" he exclaimed excitedly. He walked over to Tara and put his arm around her, a wide grin spread across his face.

You rolled your eyes in distaste. It was so obvious he had a crush on her. You wanted to like Chad, he was sweet and easy to talk to, but his feelings for Tara made that impossible. A knot twisted and tightened in your gut as you watched them. Bitterly, you poured yourself another shot, downed it, and slammed your cup on the counter.

"I'm gonna go find my friends," you told Tara and left before she could respond. You liked Tara's friends, but you didn't wanna be around Chad's insatiable flirting with your own girlfriend. Plus, you weren't one to make a scene, so you let her be. You made your way through the house, searching for familiar faces. All around you people laughed obnoxiously loud, some bumping into you. Couples made out aggressively in every corner.

"Hey Y/N!" a voice called.

It was your friend Scarlett, along with everyone else in your group, spread out across a couch. Gaby's legs laid across Scarlett, red solo cup in hand, while talking to Noah. Noah's eyes were hooded, evident from the cart in his hand. He pressed it to his lips and inhaled, the blue light illuminating the pen. They all turned and smiled lazily at you as you approached the couch.

"Come sit!" Scarlett exclaimed excitedly, patting an empty space next to her. Her blonde hair was curled perfectly and her makeup highlighted all of her best features. You sat next to her and she instantly shoved a drink in your hands. "Soooo, how are things with Tara?" Scarlett asked.

You blushed upon hearing her name, shaking your head and letting your hair hide your face.

"Things are good. She's really sweet and I really like her," you said, shrugging your shoulders. You took a sip of the mystery concoction Scarlett handed you. It was pleasantly sweet, just enough to compliment the bitter taste of alcohol.

"Awwww. You're so in loooooove." Gaby cooed.

"Ugh, shut up, Gaby," you groaned, playfully shoving her.

"Yo, Y/N, wanna play beer pong?" Noah asked.

"Sure, why not? Lemme hit that first though," gesturing to his cart. He tossed it to you with a knowing smirk. You brought it up to your lips, held down the button, and inhaled. The vapor expanded in your lungs, before you exhaled and let it out in a slow, hazy puff of smoke. "Alright, ready to get your ass kicked?" you taunted Noah.

"You wish."

The hours quickly went by, and you were about to win your second game out of three. Your body tingled with intoxication as you grabbed the small white ball. Brows furrowing in concentration, you tossed the ball shakily, and it somehow sank right into the cup, beer splashing out onto the table. You threw your hands up in victory and watched as Noah chugged the cup. When you turned to the crowd around you, you were met with Tara's gaze of amusement.

"Taraaaaaa! I won beer pong! Twice!" you slurred with glee and you put up three fingers proudly to emphasize your pride. You stumbled closer and threw your arms around her.

"Wow. You're super drunk. Remind me to never leave you unattended at a party." she said giggling.

"I'm not even that drunk, silly."

"Right," she said, unconvinced. "Let's get you upstairs, okay?" She put an arm around you and carefully led you back inside. The rest of the party was a blur. Literally. Your head spun dizzily, and your arms swung numbly at your sides. It felt as if you were floating, grounded only by Tara's arm wrapped around your shoulders.

Somehow, you made it up the stairs without falling, though you came close. Tara found an empty bedroom and tugged you inside. You flopped on the bed, eyes closed, and dragged her with you. She laid her head beside yours, enjoying your inebriated state. She brought her hand up to your face and tucked a strand of hair behind your ear. Your eyes shot open at the sudden contact. It spread warmth throughout your whole body, as if setting it on fire. You wanted, no, needed more of her touch. Scooting closer to her, you gazed into her deep, chocolate brown eyes. They were dilated, no doubt from her own intoxication, and they widened a bit as you got closer. Though you were dating, you've never been this close to her; just inches away.

"Taraaa," you slurred.

"Yes?" she asked playfully.

"You're so prettyyyy." you whined, saying the words as if it physically hurt you. Sometimes, you swore it did. She flushed at your comment, then opened her mouth to say something, but you cut her off. "Your hair is just- so perfect. And your eyes are so so so so sooooo beautiful. I could stare at them all day long." you said gleefully. She smiled at you and tried to reply but you cut her off yet again. "Your face is just perfectttttt. I love your freckles so much. They make you look sooooo cuteeee. And your lips...god your lips are so..." you trailed off and zeroed in on her smooth, supple lips. "...pretty...god I just wanna..." your words fell again, and thoughts of her lips pressed against yours caused your body to erupt in flames once more.

You yearned to kiss them, but the fear of the uncrossed territory between you two scared you. A brief flash of Chad's arm around her crossed your mind, and that fear was quickly replaced with jealousy. You knew that he probably thinks about kissing her too, and that if Tara wasn't currently involved with you, she would likely be with him. The thought angered you, and desire and lust over Tara clouded your mind. Refusing to contemplate this anymore, you leaned over and finally pressed your lips against hers. She gasped quietly into your mouth, eyes wide at your sudden bold move. You cupped her cheek and pressed your body against hers, and she quickly melted into the kiss. It started soft and tender, both of you a little scared to take the kiss any further. But soon, any and all nerves washed away and the kiss quickly heated up. Air didn't matter to either of you as you kissed each other fervently. Her hand slid up your shoulder and into your hair, tangling in it and tugging it lightly. You intertwined your legs with hers, and brought an arm around her waist, pulling her even closer. There wasn't anymore space between you two, both desperately craving more contact. You moved to lay on top of her and she sighed, letting you take control. Your lips moved to her neck, where you sucked and bit, leaving trails of bruises all across her collarbone. She moaned quietly at the pleasant sting of your teeth against her skin.

"More," she whispered. You complied with a smirk, and continued your assault on her neck and lips for hours.

The next morning you woke up with a throbbing headache. Sunlight shined brightly right in your eyes, as if it was teasing you, urging you to wake up and face your inevitable hangover. You grumbled bitterly, desperately wanting to go back to sleep. But the nausea in your stomach made that impossible.

You rubbed your eyes, finally taking in your surroundings. Noticing you weren't in your own room, your heartbeat quickened.

"Morning," Tara said quietly beside you. You turned sharply towards her, then relaxed, realizing you were in Tara's room. Her eyes were still closed and her body was still covered in the warm comforter. "How do you feel?" Her morning voice was attractively raspy, and you knew you would never get used to it.

"Like shit," you groaned.

"Do you remember anything?"

"Oh god, what did I do?" you whined, sinking back into the pillows.

"Well, for starters, you won beer pong. Twice." Brief images of you at the table sinking ping pong balls into cups and chugging beer flashed through your head.

"And thennnn, since you were super drunk, I took you to a bedroom to get you to sober up..." she said slyly with a smirk.

"Why did you say it like that..?" you nervously asked, scared to see what stupid thing you did this time.

"Well..." she trailed off and sat up, letting the covers fall from her body. Your heart stopped. Her neck was covered in dark purple bruises, surrounded by angry irritated skin. Her hair was disheveled, and her lips were stained with your lipstick. Your jaw went slack, eyes almost bulging out of your skull. "You uh...got a little bold," she giggled.

"Oh...my god," you whispered in disbelief. Mortified, you retreated back into the covers and pulled a pillow over your head. "I'm so sorry, oh my god."

She laughed at your muffled response and lifted the pillow off of you. "It's okay it was super cute." Laying back down beside you, she grabbed your jaw and turned your head, forcing you to look at her. "...And hot."

You flushed at her remark, and closed your eyes in embarrassment. She laughed, then climbed over your body and laid against you. Wrapping the blanket around her, you let her relax into your arms. She sighed happily, and pressed little kisses all over your face.

"Wait did we...?" you started but didn't finish, afraid to say the word.

"We didn't fuck if that's what your asking."

Relief washed over you. As appealing as that idea was, it'd probably be much better if you two were sober. She then pressed kisses all the way up to your ear lobe, nibbling and tugging softly with her teeth.

"But if you want to, I'm down." she husked in your ear.

a/n: posting this and a few others from wattpad.

[ihopeiexplode]

📱 “Desperate lover boy” [←Previous]

—

it's been a week. and your back to acting dryly with him and constantly avoiding him,

every time he tries approaching you you're always running away from him, seriously why are you even ignoring him? he didn't do anything wrong this time, right?

the deadline for your project is fast approaching and yet you still refuse to go see him despite that, you still wrote, and so did he

—

Eventually, the deadline came along, meaning you get to submit all your daily documentaries and after that, both of you would read what you two had to say about each other for the past month

You'd walk into your professor's office taking a seat right next to Sukuna while you avoided eye contact, he did the same with him clenching the armrest

"ahem, I finished reading both of your works and I must be quite surprised about what you two have written down"

"Especially with how you two are acting when your papers say the complete opposite, but either way you both passed, you can read each other's papers now"

With that you both looked at each other before grabbing the folders with both of your names, you grabbed the folder under Sukunas name while he grabbed the folder under your name

If anything you were curious on what he wrote, after all what does your professors even mean by 'when your papers say the complete opposite'?

as you read through Sukunas paper, each paper you read through your eyes widen in disbelief there's no way he really feels this way right?

However once you read through the last one your jaw immediately dropped...

“Day 30”

y/n's still ignoring me. I hate it not to mention every time she's finally alone I just have to get approached I don't want her getting the wrong idea but with how girls keep throwing themselves at me for the past week? I doubt it.

fuck this. After this whole project bullshit if she won't talk to me I'll make her, one way or another

Maybe I'll even—

Right when you were about to read the last line suddenly sukuna snatched the paper out of your hand as he stormed out of the office

"right when you were about to get to the good part too,"

Your professor would suddenly say as he let out a chuckle causing you to turn your head back to look at him in confusion

"the last part said he's planning on asking you out today but is scared you'll reject him, but after he finished reading your paper I'm pretty sure he has nothing to worry about"

"I'm just surprised how oblivious you two are... Anywho, you should go talk things out with your soon-to-be boyfriend Hm?"

—

That's what you did, afterall you wanted to confront him about it all, you practically asked everyone he knew! Yet none of them seen him,

Well, there's one person you haven't asked yet...

—

You grabbed your phone and dialed yujis number waiting for him to pick up

"yuji have you seen Sukuna...? I asked everyone..."

"hiii y/n!! Anyways, that kinda depends, whats the situation?"

"the project were—"

"the park, the one with the lake"

"are you sure?..."

"duhhh, that's where he always goes to when he can't get you out of his head, last time I asked he said: 'Because y/n and I would always hang out here back when we were friends....' I'm surprised he even told me that"

"I see, thx Yuji,"

—

Eventually, once you reached it you found Sukuna sitting down on a Bench while reading through your paper, even from afar you could see how red his face was as he read through word by word,

You'd slowly approach him tapping on his shoulder, If you were anyone else he would've pushed you into the lake, but it's you so...

"were you really serious about asking me out?"

"..."

"yes..."

"well? Aren't you gonna do it now?"

"wait what....?"

"don't tell me you think im still gonna reject you after reading my paper..."

"I mean.... Well... I planned on doing it somewhere else.."

"I see, so just a kiss then? I don't think I did it right at the first time"

He'd just stare at you dumbfounded, he knew you were forward with your words but not that much...

"so? Yes or no?"

Without any hesitation, he immediately cupped your face before pulling you forward and crushing his lips into yours, this time you returned the kiss, unlike last time...

After that he'd pull away with his face still red,

"taking that as a yes then?"

"So.. what are we?"

"what do you think??"

"fuck you."

"love you too"

"you're annoying...love you too..."

—

[⛩️] @: Likes & Reblogs R appreciated! ^^

A/N: woohoo the end guys wowoeowowow what do ygs think!!!

Taglist: @catobsessedlady @hellomeow12 @0-candlecove-0 @shivzypuff @swirlingcurses @1-800-choke-that-ho @attackonnat @chilichopsticks @getoxmahito @memenojutsu @uhnanix @ichorstainedskin @needtoloveoutloud @love-me-satoru @s-j320 @allthestarsarecloserrrrrrr @goj0ssunglasses @svtvrnal @haitanibros0007 @punkhazardlaw @mslydiaa @jayathelostdragon @caileysdead @rixyaaaa @minzxec @rzcnlb @cadibearrr @sukunaspillow @dervngedgf @rayrayline

[delicatereader]

I need you (stephen!hayden x reader)

• summary: Stephen is a little rusty in sex and needs some help

• warnings: well smut

• a/n: this is about hayden/stephen not the actual one. I didn't go deep with the smut bc I am just getting the hang of it so yea. enjoy! (btw I haven't proof read it so there are mistakes...

➽────────────────────────────❥

You've had an exhausting day at work, unfortunately you have to work overnight. All you want is a get away from this shit. There were only few others with you left. You peacefully working in your space, reading reports in your spinning chair when Stephen comes in.

He hastily grabs a chair and pulls it next to you to sit. You ignore him because you what was coming, he's gonna rant about how everyone thinks he's gay and no one likes him. You didn't think that way, you've had a cute crush on him for a while but didn't do anything because you worked with him and didn't have the time. You've always liked the way he talks and his glasses (you found them slutty and hot).

"What do you think of me?" he asks

"What do you mean?" you try to confirm, still reading the reports

"What do you think me?"

"You're kind, generous and hard-working!" you reply looking at him

"No like what do you think of me?" he repeats

You let out a harsh sigh annoyed.

"Like physically, do you find me attractive?" he blurts out

"What?" you respond in surprise

"Like am I attractive?" he asks again

"Yeah? why? did someone say anything to you?" you ask him concerned

"No..." he drags

"Spill" you demand

"Ok! It's been a while since you know..." he says

"What? I don't know"

"Since you know!" he looks at his pants and back up (twice)

"Sex?" you answer

"Shhhhh!" he silences you, making you giggle

"Someone will hear you! But yeah since I had sex" he continues

"So you want to start having sex again?" you ask

"Well yeah! It's been a long time" he admits

"How long?" you ask curiously

"Ummm...2 years?"

"What!? 2 years?! omg!" you yell whilst whispering

"I'm a bit rusty..." he says

You scoff as a response, "you will be"

"Oh shut up!" he responds

"Can't belive it! 2 years!" you laugh out loud

"Yep..." he says embarrassed, nodding his head

"Ok I won't laugh! I promise! you speak" you take a deep breath

"So everyone thinks I'm gay, I accidentally let people- no men stick their tongue down my throat and the girls I get run away when they hear the gay rumours" he explains his situation

"Well they just haven't seen your search history! trust me your straight!!" you confirm for him.

He leans back on the chair shocked

"How do you know my search history?"

"The other week you left early and forgot to log out. I did it for you" you smile at him proudly

"Anyways what am I supposed to do about this? I have some friends who might be interested..." you advise resting your head on you palms.

"No" he replies instantly

"Then?" you ask raising your eyebrows waiting for some details

"I need you" he mutters

"What?" you yell in shock

"You. I mean I don't know anyone else better. I'm close to you so it won't be that awkward!" he explains further

"What?! I can't!"

"Yes you can. Nat, Smith and Jade are leaving right now" he says placing a hand on your lap

"What?" as you respond you hear an elevator reach your floor seeing your colleagues leave

"It's just us! please!" he begs. You could see the desperation in his eyes.

"If I agree to this..." you drag

"I'll owe you a million" he offers

"Fine" you shrug even though you've wanted him for so long, you put on a act.

He instantly gets off the chair and kisses you

"Is that ok?" he asks

You nod in response

His kisses get more passionate and confident. His lips are awfully soft. His hands travel from your lap to your cheeks. He starts to kiss your neck, but whilst leaving a trail of kisses from behind your ear to you collarbone you get up and turn so he is in the chair. You're sat on his lap legs on both sides of him. He slips his around your waist and let's them travel your back and slip through your hair.

You pull his dark blonde curls, making him whimper. "You like that?"

The only response you got was a moan.

He starts to unbutton your shirt kissing your chest and around your bra. You follow his actions and pull his shirt off. He takes your bra off and kisses your breasts.

You slowly start to grind on him, making his head fall back in pleasure. "Fuck y/n!"

His breath starts to get heavier. He pulls his hand from your waist to tale off his glasses. Suddenly, you stop him.

"Whay are you doing?"

"Taking of my glasses?"

You lean against his mouth with a smirk

"The glasses stays on" you demand

"You have a thing for glasses?" He asks, locking his lips with a smile and carrying pire lust in his eyes.

"Shut up!" you say rolling your eyes at him whilst giggling

"We'll see who needs to shut up after this" he says with a mischievous smile leaning back in to kiss you

[lovewithmary]

THE ENGINEER | MCU X FORMULA ONE CROSSOVER

summary: where daniel riccicardo is star(k)struck

previous

fc: gabbi garcia

author's note: kind of a filler tbh, I just wanted to practice writing for F1 since this is my first time and it's also the first time I'm creating an SMAU for tumblr.

warnings: iron man 2 spoiler, mentions of violence (I don't describe it, I just lightly cover it)

twitter

real life

"You have to make sure Mick doesn't get on his phone before I surprise him," Viviana said as she navigated through the thick crowd of people, ignoring the stares that were aimed at her.

Ever since the F1 WAGS (whatever that meant) Twitter account leaked that she just arrived in Monaco, she could practically feel people discreetly follow her even if it was to no avail considering her appointed bodyguards (courtesy of the one and only Happy Hogan) were only a couple steps behind her and stopped whoever came closer than what was comfortable.

"How exactly am I going to do that when all of you are practically stuck to your phones all the time?" an irritated voice replied.

"Be careful Toto, your age is showing," the Stark cooed, and she could practically see the man roll his eyes even if she couldn't see him.

"Also, didn't you say that you were going to send someone for me? I don't see anyone who looks like they'd know what they're doing be here," Viviana told Toto.

"Viviana!" She heard a voice in front of her and practically sighed in relief when she saw him.

"Lewis!" She greeted gleefully, hugging the man when she got close enough.

Lewis hugged back, and joked, "Never thought I'd see you outside of Fashion Shows,"

Viviana first met Lewis during the Monaco Grand Prix back when she was only 11 and he was 25. She didn't meet him for long though, as their meeting was cut short when Vanko infiltrated the race and attacked her father. She was quickly escorted away when it happened, in fear that Vanko would attack her next.

It was the first and last time a Stark would drive in a Grand Prix (or will it?)

(possible foreshadowing?)

However, Viviana would see Lewis in other places like the countless Fashion Shows he was a part of and she was attending. He'd always ask if she was ever going to visit the paddock, but he'd always get rejected and he understood considering it brought up bad memories for the girl.

"Trust me, if it wasn't for Mick, I would be out doing something else that isn't bumping elbows with random people," Viviana shuddered, as Lewis looked at the clearly out-of-place girl in amusement.

As they began walking, Lewis and Viviana started catching up, talking about various things. "I didn't know you and Mick were friends, much less best friends," he told her, making her shrug.

"We haven't seen each other in a long time, because I was busy with the company and he's busy with F1, we never had time to hang out in public. We'd only ever hang out at the Tower off-season," she told him.

"I mean, since you're here now, you're probably going to come here more now," he told her.

"Lewis!"

Both Viviana and Lewis turned to see Daniel Ricciardo, who managed to catch up with them. He gave a wide smile to Lewis, but when he realized who the girl next to him was, his eyes turned wide for a second before stuttering. "Uh—hi. Daniel Ricciardo," he said, holding out a hand for her to hold.

Viviana looked at him in amusement at his starstruck expression before shaking his hand and said, "Viviana Stark,"

"Oh, I know," Daniel blurted out, his face turning red at his obvious mistake.

Deciding to save his friend from further embarrassment, Lewis said, "Daniel, I was just escorting Viviana to surprise Mick at Mercedes, do you want to—"

"Yeah! I mean, sure. It'll be nice to see George and... George," Daniel said.

As Viviana turned to start walking again, Daniel turned to Lewis and said "George and George?! I couldn't even come up with another name?"

"You were practically drooling at the mouth, mate," Lewis chuckled.

"It's Viviana Stark! She's an absolute legend and not to mention she's really beautiful!"

"If this is how you react with her, I'm only imagining how the other drivers are going to react,"

[neptuneiris]

cardigan (epilogue) (2/2)

and I knew you'd come back to me, you'd come back to me

pairing: modern!aemond × best friend reader!

summary: being in love with your best friend since high school becomes a strong and unavoidable feeling. until it starts to become more difficult when you get to college and the two of you, especially him, meet new people.

word count: 9.9k

previous part •

thank you so much to all those beautiful people who read this story, it meant a lot to me all those comments full of love and emotion to read each chapter. i'm so sad that it's over, but you will always have the story here to read it whenever you want to.

we'll see you in the next stories, for now we'll give a moment to the end of cardigan, where i'll be anxious to read your opinions. again, thanks for everything, you guys are amazing!

"Can you give me some time, please?"

You had asked him that day, that day with tears still in your eyes and still hugging him, to which he had lowered his gaze to look at you, his gaze soft and understanding, nodding at the instant you asked him.

And you had explained your reasons.

"I-I need to think, Aemond. I-I don't know if I can... do-this... right now. I-I just... "you bite your lips, nervous and embarrassed, "I need some time, I-I need....

"Yes, of course," he assures you softly, "You don't need to ask me, you take it. Do what you think you need to do, I won't pressure you. I will respect your space and each of the decisions you make when you are ready, whatever they are, all right?" he observes you honestly, "Don't worry about me. Take all the time you need."

You nodded in his direction, thanking him with your gaze, to which he had left a soft kiss on your forehead and finally separates from you.

After that, it doesn't take him long to leave your room, to which you had closed your door, watching him walk away down the hallway, feeling something in your chest, a feeling you didn't know exactly what it was.

And he had felt it too as he walked away.

And still surprised and with a bewildered expression in your gaze, that day you still hadn't processed one hundred percent of everything that had happened.

That day you lay on your bed and stared at the ceiling for a long time, thinking about everything and at the same time about nothing. Until eventually you fell asleep.

And now three months have passed.

Three months have passed since the time Aemond showed up by surprise in your room once you came back from Highgarden and you both confessed your true feelings for each other.

Three months since you asked him for time and to this day you haven't seen him or talked to him again.

You still have him blocked from all your social media, so neither of you know what each other is doing, however, you both know that you are either for Helaena or for Aegon.

And as he promised, he hasn't been looking for you again, hasn't pressured you, and has given you your space. And you have also complied with clarifying your ideas and your feelings, what you really want and what is best for you.

However, you are still not done with that matter of yours.

You still have some thoughts here and there, also some mixed feelings and indecisions.

But it's not the only thing you think about, sometimes you can't even think about it because of college, your internship here at King's Landing and also because of your job at the boutique.

Fortunately you've been hired at the boutique that Helaena told you about and everything has been more than fine in your life in those two fields of school and financially.

But you still think about Aemond and the current situation with him.

You thought about asking someone for advice, your friends and even Helaena, but honestly... you want to make this decision by yourself, without anyone else's opinions about what you should or shouldn't do.

You would ask for advice if you didn't know what to do, but you are considering all points, the before and the now.

Until an extended weekend arrives with Monday and Tuesday off for holidays, so you have more time to think about him and yourself.

Your friends invite you to go out partying considering there will be a lot of them at the frat houses for the long weekend but you're not in the mood, plus you know he'll probably be there.

But once talking to Helaena when you went for coffee together, she herself told you that Aemond has been going more on the weekends to his parents' house.

And you're not avoiding him, in fact you've seen him a few times on campus, obviously because that platinum hair is so easy to spot. He hasn't seen you but every time you see him... it disturbs your thoughts a little.

That's why you'd rather not see him.

When on a Saturday afternoon, you head to your room with a basket of clean clothes coming from the laundry, you open the door and Vhagar watches you comfortably between your pillows start to hang the clean clothes in your closet.

And once you're done, you sit on your bed, grab your phone and go to Facebook, when the first post you see is from the weather in King's Landing, warning that a horrible storm will hit tonight and will last until Sunday afternoon, so they ask for precautions to all the population.

You quickly pull aside the curtain of your window and in the distance you see some black and gray clouds approaching, causing you to shiver.

When just at that moment, you get a message and when you look at the screen, you see that it's Aegon.

Egg🥚: hey little demon

Egg🥚: tomorrow we're going to dinner, hel, daeron and jace

Egg🥚: you know who isn't coming so what do you say 👀?

You watch the messages for a few seconds without replying and doing nothing, just watching them and nothing else.

And you don't know why but reading the "you know who" made you feel something in your chest, something that you don't even know, but that makes you feel and makes you think more about him.

You look around your room, remembering just how everything happened here, the last time you saw each other and everything you talked about. His feelings and how you reacted.

Again that strange feeling gets stronger in your chest, a pleasant but sharp pain that runs through your whole body and is… inexplicable.

And suddenly… you feel a need.

You look again through your window at the horrible storm that will start in a couple more hours and let out a long breath, pursing your lips.

Afterwards, you don't really know what's wrong with you, but at half past seven in the evening and only with hope and Vhagar in your arms you get out of the Uber and head to quickly enter the huge building.

The wind has already reached the city, a strong one announcing that it will rain soon.

Your hair is flying in all directions, Vhagar is fidgeting in your arms and as you cross the doors of the building, you are finally okay but through the windows you see all that wind and some lightning reflecting.

The sky is already getting completely dark and you hear some thunder in the distance, all of it approaching.

You hug Vhagar and head for the elevator, again with that hope and longing.

Or otherwise… you'll have come all this way for nothing.

Soon enough you ring the bell, as you cuddle Vhagar and wait impatiently, worried that you'll probably stay out here since you can't go back to your dorm in this weather.

Uber fares go up considerably high because of the rain. And considering it's a storm… you'd have to stay here or at the reception of the building.

You let out a long breath, waiting. When at that moment a loud clap of thunder rumbles through the entire building, tensing you up and causing you to freeze in fear.

Vhagar stirs frightened in your arms and you hold her tighter against you, caressing her, swallowing hard and looking at the door with a hopeful and suffering face at the same time, beginning to despair.

You don't like to be alone when this kind of weather happens.

Then to your enormous good fortune, the door opens and again after a long three months you are face to face with Aemond.

The surprise is more than evident on his face when he sees you, clearly not expecting it to be you, now with the roles reversing as you are the one looking for him after months.

And you smile a little in his direction, though it's not entirely genuine because of the nervousness of being in front of him again and also because of the storm out there.

As Aemond watches you with his lips parted, his gaze lit up and wearing comfortable clothes, a white t-shirt and gray pants.

"Y/N?"

Vhagar stirs fully in your arms, watching Aemond intently, as you hold her tighter and swallow hard, watching him with some sorrow and also hope.

"I'm sorry," you stir nervously, lowering your gaze, "I-I had to come and….

You bite your lips, as Aemond takes a step towards you, hopeful, but still very surprised that you are here. And when you again raise your gaze to him, you both stare at each other for a few seconds without saying anything, with a look of hope.

His lilac eye watches you again with that glow while his beautiful sapphire shines and sparkles completely in your direction. That sapphire you love so much.

He doesn't seem to intend to send you away, not at all, not with the storm out there and if there wasn't, he still wouldn't have done it.

He wouldn't let you go a second time, not in his greatest madness.

That's why you light that spark of hope in him again, watching you intently and with complete adoration, even though he hasn't sung victory yet.

And you finally finish your sentence by watching him with a look of hope and affection at the same time.

"And I just hate storms."

Aemond places a small closed-mouth smile, one barely visible, then fully opens his door and allows you to pass through.

"I know."

Is what he says to you so that you then enter the apartment.

You set Vhagar down on the floor and realize that nothing has changed as everything remains exactly the same. As Aemond watches you behind you, cautious to take his distance as he doesn't want to ruin this, to then hold Vhagar in his arms.

And then it's as if you both go back in time.

"Would you like a cup of coffee or something to eat?"

He offers you in a soft voice, as your gaze focuses on the huge windows, watching as the rain hits the glass hard and lightning illuminates some parts inside the apartment.

And you turn to him.

"Yes," you nod, "Coffee would be nice."

Aemond nods to then go down to Vhagar, but first quickly goes to close the curtains, since he knows you don't even like to look when it rains so brutally.

Then he makes you comfortable in what used to be your home too.

You take a seat on the stool at the table while he starts getting everything ready and that's when you both again start catching up after the three months.

You thought it would be awkward and weird, but it's not.

He's clearly happy that you're here and you feel the same way about the two of you now being in each other's company.

The conversation makes you forget a bit about the weather, even though you hear some thunder, but Aemond distracts you by asking or telling you something, pouring you a cup of coffee and offering you some sweet bread as well.

There really isn't much to catch up on, but you have a very good and pleasant time, finally feeling at ease being with him.

As the night begins to grow late and Aemond takes you to your room, because for him it has never stopped being your room.

When you open the door, everything is just as you left it the last time. Everything is empty, there are only the unoccupied furniture, the lamps on each one, the empty desk and also the bed with the sheets and pillows that have not been used by anyone since you left.

"I'll get you a T-shirt and some socks, so you can sleep comfortably."

You look at him and nod, watching him gratefully.

"Yes, thank you. I-I know I should have brought my clothes, but…

"No, it's fine," he assures you instantly, "No problem."

And he walks away down the hallway toward the door to his room as you watch him then go inside, take a seat on the bed and look around the room for a few more moments.

You felt so strange when you left this room and saw it this empty last time. And now you feel the same way.

When he soon returns with his clothes and hands them to you.

"Here you go."

"Thank you, Aemond."

He nods to you and then scratches the back of his neck, which he does out of nervousness, watching you, suddenly having an impulse, wanting to say something to you.

But he controls himself, again telling himself that he mustn't fuck this up, that he mustn't scare you. So he starts to leave the room.

"I'll be in my room if you need anything."

"Yes," you murmur, "Thank you."

"It's nothing," he smiles softly at you, "good night."

"Good night."

And he closes the door.

It's only a matter of time before you're covered with the sheets, with Vhagar sleeping with you, watching the rain through part of the window with the curtain open, lowering your gaze to place your nose in the collar of Aemond's shirt you're wearing so you can breathe in more of the detergent and clean smell of him.

You can't sleep.

The sound of the rain doesn't leave you, neither does the lightning that reflects from time to time, much less some thunder that is not constant, but when you hear it, it makes you tense up and gives you chills.

You know you're not alone, but you still can't.

So you try one more time. But unconsciously your eyes stay open and you tremble with fear when the thunder is louder this time and the lightning longer and more constant.

Everything is like a horror movie for you.

You really hate and are terrified of storms.

Unable to stand it any longer, you stir to get up, to which Vhagar does so too, watching you intently, she too watching the window for the sound of the rain and the strong wind, probably just as terrified as you are.

Undecided, you go back to watching the window sitting on the bed and bite your lips, telling yourself that what you want to do is not bad and that it is just what you want after so long thinking about it.

When a huge, loud, horrible thunder rumbles throughout the building and probably all of Kings Landing.

You tense up and become completely paralyzed with fear, also the thunder makes Vhagar bark in fear, while you feel the uncontrollable urge to cry, because it terrifies you and does not let you sleep.

You get up with Vhagar in your arms, definitely not taking it anymore and as you try to move forward to get out of bed, your feet collide with something.

You lower your confused gaze, stopping, seeing how there is a medium sized box sticking out a bit from under the bed, as if it had been stored there.

Confused and curious, despite the horrible storm out there, you gently set Vhagar back down on the bed and bend down to pull the box out and pick it up.

Cautiously, you think to yourself that maybe it must be something of Aemond's, something he wanted to keep here and you know you shouldn't snoop around because it's his stuff and this is his room since you left.

But you ask yourself; why keep something right here? Why not in his room?

With everything he has told you and if he really felt bad about you leaving here, maybe he couldn't even bear to see this room without your stuff being here.

That's how you would have felt.

When you then look at the box, in the center of the lid you see how there is a white folded card. You frown, slowly open it and read:

For my best friend, the best of all.

Happy birthday my pretty one. Thank you for always being there for me, even though many times I don't deserve you. I love you, now and always.

You stand completely frozen, staring at the card in surprise and bewilderment, only to look at the box in your hands that is actually your birthday present.

The gift he was never able to give you.

Months have passed and yet it's like it happened yesterday. And you've moved on. But Aemond isn't.

Maybe in all this time remorse was eating him alive, knowing perfectly well that your present is under your bed, in the room that was once yours. Thinking that day must have been very special and that he must have been there for you.

However, nothing was like that.

That's why he placed it here, because he couldn't bear to see it, just the same way he couldn't even bear to see the door to this room every time he walked through the hallway.

You're surprised that he didn't get rid of your gift, but still, unable to cope with curiosity and with a strong, sharp feeling in your chest, you dare and open the box.

And the first thing you see are old photos of the two of you together.

You delicately take the first picture, a photo of you both in high school, where you smile with utmost happiness and he makes a funny face next to you.

You smile a little, remembering that day just as if it was yesterday.

This is the first picture you both took together after you both started spending more time together in school and then became best friends.

He didn't even want to take a picture with you, he said he didn't like them, but you convinced him and then over time he didn't deny you any picture you wanted to take of him or both of you together.

The next picture is both of you in his car, both eating ice cream, where earlier he had warned you that if you dropped ice cream on his baby, his car obviously, you would have to wash it yourself and everything, not just the inside.

Then the next picture is both of you at school with a bunch of friends from back then, friends of his more than anything, but he and you are in the middle of everyone, hugging and smiling.

And so continually there are more photos of the two of you, especially together on your relatives' birthdays, there's even one of the two of you with your parents.

You planned a little trip to visit your parents because you missed them so much and Aemond in an instant wanted to join you.

You didn't want to bother him, but he assured you that he was no bother at all and the moment your parents finally met him, they loved him completely and he loved them too.

Another photo is him at the amusement park, smiling at you, and then another one he took of you, also smiling with a cotton candy.

And at the end are the pictures you took together at his family's balls at Dragonstone, both of you smiling, him in his suit and you in your more than ideal and perfect dress for that night.

He has the color of his tie the same color as your dress in each photo, going through the years, both of you together and in different colors of ties and dresses.

There are also photos of the two of you here in the apartment, together, smiling and happy, to which you smile too, looking at the photos with a lot of feeling, tears starting to form in your eyes.

And you realize the different meaning these photos would have had, if the two of you had confessed your feelings to each other from the beginning.

And that's what gives you the most feeling… the time lost and how wrong the two of you were about each other.

You sniffle, not letting the tears run down your cheeks, realizing that there is something else in the background that was covered by the pictures.

You take another but smaller box in your hand, a small black and velvet box.

Not having the slightest idea what it could be, you swallow hard and open it, instantly the slight surprise reflecting in your gaze as you see what's inside.

A beautiful silver necklace with a drop-shaped pendant of a blue sapphire… a blue sapphire just the same color as the one he has in his eye.

Incredulous, starting to breathe a little faster, you look at it in complete surprise, realizing what he would have given you at the time as a gift.

But you don't even know if you would have accepted it. You know that this must have cost him a lot.

And even though you know that money is no issue for him, it still seems too much for you because it's a real sapphire, just like the one in his eye.

You tilt your head to the side, feeling like you really want to cry now, but then a few words on a small letter underneath the necklace catch your eye.

An important part of me for you,

A vulnerable part of me that has been placed in good hands with you, my soulmate. A part that I have learned to overcome and a pain that thanks to you, has turned into something beautiful. You are special to me.

You are pure magic, my beautiful pretty one.

That's when you lose it again completely. And you start to cry uncontrollably.

You try not to make your sobs so loud, especially since Aemond's room is right next door, but you doubt that he can hear you with all the horrible sound of the storm outside.

You gently run your index finger over the precious sapphire and read his words over and over again.

My soulmate.

He has written to you… but back then it would have meant soulmates in a friendship. But now considering the truth, he always thought differently and has always been that way.

You wonder what you would have done at that moment if he had spent your birthday with you, maybe in sorrow you would have refused this expensive gift, but in the end you know he would have convinced you one way or another.

When at that moment, again a huge, terrifying and loud thunder makes you terribly scared.

Vhagar again barks, frightened and trying to find your touch.

You wipe your tears and leave the gift on the bed, then take Vhagar in your arms and leave the room, heading towards Aemond's room.

At first you think about knocking, but again another clap of thunder, not so loud this time but still frightening, makes you simply open his door.

Instantly you think he is asleep, but the reality is that he has been as awake as you have been all this time.

And with his back to you, he turns to you as he hears the faint sound of his door opening and also draws your attention as the light from the hallway slowly enters his darkened room.

"Y/N?"

You are relieved to realize that he was not asleep, as he looks at you a little confused, beginning to sit up, watching you carefully.

In other circumstances he would not have understood you, but by the expression in your face in an instant he knows because of the horrible storm accompanied by the loud and terrifying thunder outside.

You are about to explain yourself, but as you stand there watching him, remembering all that he told you and explained, even though you are more than aware of the beautiful gift he was destined to give you, you realize that you can't find the words to speak.

Much less when out there the storm seems to intensify, increasing your anxiety and your fear, calling for your attention.

But he has his full attention on you.

So simply acting on impulse and that same need you felt hours earlier in your dorm, deciding to come here by finally making a decision, you head towards him.

You leave Vhagar on his bed, walk around the bed to get to the right side as he watches you intently without saying anything to you and you lie down next to him.

And the two of you simply say nothing.

Aemond settles back into the same position he was in before, while you cover yourself with the sheets that have that unique, clean, fresh smell of his.

Then you move closer to him, snuggling up next to him, draping one of your arms across his stomach and placing your head on his chest, as he gladly welcomes you and locks you in his arms.

And again neither of you say anything. Because there is no need to say anything.

Simply the actions speak for themselves, Aemond realizing that you have already made your decision, a decision that fills him completely and makes him a happy man, finally.

Because you are trusting him again completely, giving him your heart in his hands. And for that he feels privileged.

And in that moment he makes a promise to himself, and that is that he will not fuck this up again, he will not hurt you again, because this is all he has ever wanted.

And the first thing he will do is to prove everything to you with actions and not with words, words and promises that were worthless before, but now… now things are different.

Now they are without Alys in the middle and without his immaturity holding him back anymore.

And what you need from him is this, to feel his closeness, his presence, just the way you are now, hugging and now feeling so much better to get through this horrible storm.

Vhagar settles between both of your legs, to which Aemond smiles tight-mouthed, resting his head more against yours, running his fingers gently down your back, over his shirt, sending shivers but comfort throughout your body.

You move your face closer to him, hiding your face between his chest and neck, inhaling the comforting scent of his clothes and hair, making you smile a little softly.

You have never been in such an intimate position with him before, not even in your times of friendship, because you were afraid that if you started doing this, he would notice.

But now… you realize that this is all you've ever wanted.

When suddenly another huge thunderclap makes you startle in fright and hide your face further into his neck, but Aemond quickly pulls you tighter against him, covering you and protecting you from everything.

"Shh," he murmurs softly in your ear, stroking your back, "Easy, my pretty one. It's okay, I've got you."

And his words couldn't have comforted you more.

Especially since he then turns his face slightly towards yours and begins to leave soft, tender kisses all over your cheek, making butterflies appear in your stomach.

He doesn't go any further, fearing to scare you, when the reality is that you had long desired this. But you don't make him go any further either, this being enough and perfect.

"I love you so much," he murmurs sincerely and lovingly in your ear, "You don't know how much I had wanted this, Y/N."

You smile softly against her cheek and neck, gently stroking her hair with your right hand.

"Me too," you murmur," And I love you too, Aemond."

And there it is… finally. The first I love you from both of you.

Aemond had already told you, that's why you reacted the way you reacted, but now hearing those words come from you only makes him feel more alive and realize that this is real.

With you in his arms and Vhagar asleep in his legs, he knows this is real.

Inevitably, now he is the one who feels the urge to cry, your "I love you" filling him completely and making a tear escape from his eye, feeling very happy but at the same time very afraid of losing you again for a silly thing.

Only he knows how much he suffered when you left and their friendship ended, that now he doesn't even want to make the slightest mistake, because he doesn't want to and wouldn't bear to lose you again.

"I'm not going to fuck this up again, Y/N."

He tells you with a slight tremor in his voice, calling your attention, without ceasing to caress his hair, especially at the moment when you feel something wet fall on your shoulder, being his tear.

"I don't want to lose you again, not with more words and empty promises. No, I-I want to make this right, I want you to be with me, I want to deserve you, to be worth it to you. And I'm going to prove that to you."

You open your eyes slowly, not really being able to see anything, only the shape of his face covering half of your view, while the rest is the room, watching the lightning reflecting from time to time.

You let out a long breath, continuing to run your hand through his hair, then gently lift your face towards him, without pulling away from the embrace, wanting to look at him face to face.

And you are right the moment you see the wet path of his tear running down his cheek and his eye slightly red as he looks back at you.

And he lets you see it, lets you see his vulnerability and how terribly honest he's being with you right now. And you believe him. You really do.

You raise your hand and place your thumb on his cheek, wiping away the trace of moisture gently, watching him lovingly and in understanding, then nod, letting him know it's okay.

Then you are the one who starts stroking his hair back as you lean a little closer to him and start leaving soft kisses on his right cheek while caressing his left cheek with your hand.

He leans closer to you, closing his eye and letting himself be carried away by the feeling of your caresses, holding you tighter against him, not wanting to let you go and wanting to feel you as close as possible.

This is comforting for both you and him, but he has always wanted this, always longed for this and now that he is receiving it, it feels like a dream.

And he loves this. He loves that he has you and that everything is finally all right, despite the terrible storm out there.

But the storm was the main reason you're both here now so… he doesn't know whether to be grateful for that or hate the storm as much as you hate it for scaring you and keeping you awake at night.

Then again it's you who dares and leaves a soft kiss on his lips that takes him completely unaware and he opens his eye to watch you intently and slightly surprised.

But before the two of you, especially you, can process it, you watch him with some fear, hope, fondness and need.

"We won't go through the same thing again as before, will we?"

You ask him in fear and his gaze contracts in understanding and concern for your worry.

"We will talk and consult each other about anything that worries us. We won't be led by anything or anyone without asking each other first… right?" you look at him a little more serious, but still concerned, "There won't be anyone else in the way anymore."

Aemond watches you for a few seconds in silence, observing you or rather admiring you gently, completely understanding this concern of yours.

And if he were you, honestly he too would be worried about the same thing considering everything that happened between you.

"Right."

He assures you afterwards with a sigh, bringing one of his hands to a lock of your hair, placing it behind your ear, then caressing your cheek watching you with adoration and then placing his fingers on your chin.

"We're going to do this right," he assures you, "I'm going to do this right."

"You promise?"

"I promise," he assures you again in an instant, "I'll never get another chance with you if I screw up again, I know that and that's why…now that I finally have you, I don't intend to let you go. Not until you decide so."

You smile softly in his direction, your gaze full of affection and adoration, thinking about how much you love him and how perfect this feels, this thing you've wanted for years, being the same thing he wanted and feels too.

Your lips are almost touching and having no intention of separating because you want to feel the closeness of the two of you, his words filling you up.

"So this is official now?"

You ask him with some amusement in your gaze but equally excited, trying to keep yourself from smiling big and looking like a silly little girl in love.

"I've waited too long already, Y/N. I don't want to waste any more time. But I'll understand if you still don't want us to take this any further," he lets you know, "Just because you've already made up your mind and taken some time doesn't mean you can't take more to clear your head if that's what you need. I'll still keep waiting for you until you're ready."

He tells you so honestly and with such determination that your heart melts with affection.

And more so because he continues to look at you as the most precious thing to him in the whole world, really not wanting to scare you away from the matters of a relationship so soon, but he wants to be honest with you from the beginning.

And you appreciate that, because you know how terribly serious this is both for him and for you….. finally.

"No, I-I…" you nod slightly and smile a little, "I want this too."

He watches you intently and with all the fondness in his gaze.

"Are you sure?"

"Yes… yes, I-I… this is all I've ever wanted" you sigh, "I don't want to waste any more time either. I just want everything to be okay now and for us not to go through what we went through last time. I want us to talk and be there for each other."

He nods slightly, understanding, smiling.

"That's how it will be my pretty one, you'll see."

So now it is he who makes with his fingers on your chin to bring your face closer to him and kisses you.

He really kisses you.

You let yourself be completely carried away by the movement of his lips and you move closer to him, letting all your weight fall on top of him, kissing him as softly and affectionately as he kisses you, it being a kiss not at all hurried but deep and full of feelings.

He kisses you so sweet and so soft, treating you as if you were made of glass.

He then places both of his hands on your waist, embracing you and pulling you tighter against him, while you place your hands on his cheeks, both kissing without separating an inch.

And now all you can hear is still the sound of rain and thunder outside, along with the sound of your mouths moving, both of you clinging to each other.

The two of you finally feeling complete as you share your first kiss.

"Fuck," he sighs into your lips, completely delighted by your lips and your closeness, "I love you…so much."

He tells you in between kisses to then caress his lips with yours again in a desperate, deep movement, making you smile and giggle a little, pulling you apart a little to again leave steady kisses down his cheeks, his nose and again kiss his lips.

"I love you too."

And again you resume the long, lingering kiss, not meaning anything else, just being about the first innocent kiss… for now.

All they both need now is to feel that closeness and affection for each other. And that's exactly what they do, until they eventually fall asleep.

The next morning, neither you nor Aemond get out of bed.

With the weather completely cloudy as a result of last night's storm, the mood is to stay in bed and stay there all day. And that's exactly what you both do.

It is Aemond who wakes up first, with you in his arms, your face buried in his neck and your arms around his body, while Vhagar sleeps in both of your legs more than comfortably.

He smiles at the sight, more than pleased and more than happy, not needing anything else for this day and definitely not needing more in his life than this… you.

You the person he wants to spend the rest of his days with if possible, with Vhagar accompanying you at every step, the mere thought making him smile and yearn like an idiot.

Then he carefully removes you from his body, which fortunately you don't wake up to because you are not used to going to sleep late and waking up early the next day like he is.

Vhagar doesn't wake up either, which he also appreciates and as soon as he gets out of bed, he quickly covers you with his sheets, making sure you're okay, and then leaves a kiss on your neck and forehead.

He also caresses and leaves kisses on Vhagar's head before heading to his bathroom to take a shower.

And by the time he finishes, you are still asleep, but Vhagar wakes up and he takes her in his arms to go together to the kitchen to make breakfast.

The whole time he's cooking he can't stop grinning like an idiot, thinking about last night and also happy with the thought that you're here with him, right now sleeping in his bed, the two of you finally together.

And he knows it's real as he paces back and forth in the kitchen with Vhagar lying on the floor, watching him, making him smile and feeding her every moment he sees her, not resisting.

As he is about to finish cooking, he feels small hands and arms wrap around his back completely, making him smile like an idiot again, more if possible, instantly placing his hands above yours on his chest.

He feels you drop your head on his back, needing his touch, just what he needs from you as well.

"Good morning, my pretty one."

"Good morning," you say back to him with your voice hoarser and still sleepy.

He laughs and turns to you, holding you in his arms, instantly embracing you as you cling completely to him. And he leaves kisses on your cheek and in your hair.

"How did you sleep?"

You let out a long breath.

"Very well until I woke up and you weren't next to me."

He smiles, pulling you closer to him.

"Don't worry, we'll have more mornings together where you'll wake up and I'll be right next to you, I promise," he leaves a kiss on your forehead, "Now… do you want breakfast? I made pancakes."

You raise your gaze to him, watching him with all the adoration in the world with a small smile, then nod.

"Okey," he leans in and leaves a soft kiss on your lips, "Give me a few minutes, I'll serve everything."

"I'll help you."

The two separate, at that moment the two realizing that they can't even keep their hands to themselves as they need to touch and be close to each other, turning out to be ridiculous but more than necessary at the same time.

Aemond thinks about how if Aegon could see them right now, he would call them in need of affection when literally the two of them are in the same place and even then it's not enough.

It's not like you're going to be stolen any second from his side or Aemond is going to be stolen from your side.

And the moment they start serving everything, after having breakfast together, in the place that was home to both of you and fortunately still is, everything went back to the way it used to be before.

Except this time… finally Aemond is yours and you are his.

And then pretty soon the people around you know it.

It's not as if you both wanted to hide your relationship, not at all, rather you wanted to shout to everyone that at last the two of you are together and happy.

Helaena was the first to find out after she showed up by surprise at the apartment and found you there with Aemond's clothes on, where the two of you were watching movies.

And you didn't even have to explain anything to her, she immediately deduced that something else was going on.

But when you confirmed to her that it was so, she could no longer control her huge smile and her excitement, hugging you tightly, telling you how very happy she was for both of you, then hugging Aemond as well.

But his happiness vanishes and in the blink of an eye she grabs him by the collar of his shirt in a furious grip and threatens him not to commit any of his foolishness with you again.

And as soon as she is done threatening him too, she returns to her happy state and keeps them company for a while, happy to see them both so comfortable, so happy and finally so at peace with each other.

Then the next to find out were Aegon, your friends and also apparently "the rumor" started to go around the campus, among the girls more than anything else, announcing that Aemond Targaryen has a new girlfriend.

And it was confirmed the moment you and Aemond are seen walking across campus towards your apartment, both holding hands and not really caring much about the stares of others.

And because of how extremely popular Aemond is, he didn't hesitate for a second to show off, just a little bit, his relationship with you also on social media, uploading pictures of you or both of you together.

You also started posting some pictures with him, it's not like you have the same amount of followers as him, but you know almost the whole psychology department and you only confirmed more your relationship with him.

And with only a few weeks left after you and Aemond finally formalized everything, neither you nor he talked about moving back in together.

There was nothing Aemond wanted more, but he didn't want to pressure you if you didn't feel ready.

Gradually though, staying at the apartment so late and deciding to sleep over started to become unconscious, also staying in the mornings to have breakfast together and also bringing some of your things or clothes with you.

Aemond only suggested Vhagar to stay with him now and you accepted, that's why going to the apartment started to be more frequent, also sleeping over.

Both of you didn't say anything, but little by little that fact started to happen even for both of you not to agree on something. Aemond was giving you time to adjust and you were doing it without pressure.

Until it got to the point of always staying with him and having to leave your room in the residence free for someone who really needed it. In the end you talked it over with him and he gladly agreed to let you go back to the apartment.

You also talked about your job. You were not willing to quit and he understood you, he didn't reproach you for it or anything, you even agreed that some days he could pick you up.

And so things finally, little by little, between the two of you began to take shape after making the relationship official.

And honestly… the two of you couldn't be any better off.

"Wait, no, so… you're telling me… you and your best friend have been in love for years and neither of you knew…" Sara looks at you serious and incredulous, "Until now."

You let out a small laugh, swinging your feet back and forth constantly.

"Yes, that's exactly how it happened."

But Sara is having none of it, she questions you in disbelief and stares at you in total disbelief.

"Are you kidding?"

"You can't blame them either, that's what usually happens when they're best friends," Aileen tells her with more understanding.

"But wow," Ryan says now, slightly surprised, "You being the Targaryen boy's girlfriend is like you're a celebrity girlfriend. All the girls will be all over you knowing his reputation from before."

"He already explained that to me, so I'm not worried," you assure him.

"And how has it been going?" asks Sara with a smile, taking a sip of her drink, "You didn't date any Highgarden boys but you're dating Aemond Targaryen, who…" she makes a thoughtful face, nodding, "Yes, it's true, he's like a celebrity."

"As far as I know, everything's fine," Hel suddenly appears from the kitchen with a smile, drawing everyone's attention, "And if it isn't, the first thing I'll do is go against Aemond."

You smile at the arrival of Hel, who looks as radiant and striking as ever in a beautiful red dress and her platinum hair in a simple but pretty updo.

"Guys, this is Helaena, Aemond's sister and my advisor… pretty much in everything."

"'Her sister-in-law,' Hel says with a proud smile, waving to your friends.

You laugh and so do your friends, as you can see Ryan fidget a little nervously at Hel's arrival who talks to Sara and Aileen as if they've known each other all their lives, watching her a bit embarrassed, making you smile, knowing full well that Hel also has many admirers all over campus.

But that doesn't make you smile as much as when Aemond crosses the kitchen doorstep as well, looking for something or someone, but when his gaze meets yours, that little smile appears on his lips and you smile back at him.

He makes his way through all the people at the party crossing between the main living room of the huge fraternity house and the kitchen to get to you.

And when he does, you immediately wrap your arms around his neck and he wraps his hands around your waist, leaving a chaste kiss on your lips that you reciprocate with a smile.

"Here's my pretty one," he murmurs against your lips.

You smile some more.

"I missed you."

"Me too," he leaves one more kiss on your lips, "But people came who I didn't even know were my family, all the way from Oldtown and mom wanted us to stay and meet everyone."

"And how did that go?"

"Hmm… fine, yeah," he shrugs, "Nothing interesting, really."

You laugh at his unconcern when you can imagine his mother going crazy having so many guests from Oldtown.

"And where is Aegon?"

"He met some girls at the entrance, one of them he must be sticking his tongue down her throat by now."

You laugh again as he settles between your legs and you hug him by the shoulders, then he turns and greets Ryan, who is right in front of you and they both start talking and catching up.

Also little by little Hel corroborates in the conversation of both of them and so on until also Sara and Aileen also talk to him, finally your friends and your boyfriend having a conversation and getting along well.

At all times Aemond doesn't move away from you and doesn't fail to feel your touch as he takes your hand and intertwines his fingers with yours, those simple actions filling you up and making you feel more than happy.

Until at one point you can see how a group of girls also in the kitchen are watching the two of you and whispering constantly to each other, but watching especially you.

Ryan's words come to your mind and you try to distract yourself from thinking about it, but with their gazes on you it becomes impossible, while Aemond doesn't even notice.

When Aemond catches your attention and makes you forget about them as he turns to you and watches you with all that affection and all that adoration.

"Wanna dance?"

"In a moment. I want to play something first," you point to the beer pong tables.

"Babe, at the last party with just one round of beer pong you were already feeling dizzy," he tells you amused.

"That's not true," you say instantly indignant, "It must have been the heat, the people or something."

He laughs.

"Yeah, right."

"Besides, who was the last one who had to take care of whom?"

"See? You don't even remember," he says amused, "I took care of you last time."

You look away from him and grimace a little, smiling.

"Fine, now I'm the one at this party who's taking care of you."

"Hmm… nope," he leaves a kiss on your cheek, "I don't plan on drinking. I have to take care of my girl."

"Are you serious? Because I am taking it serious," you warn him.

"Yeah, if you want to drink, I'll take care of you," he assures you.

"You sure?"

"Very sure."

You smile and again the two of you share a slightly longer kiss, neither of you really caring that you're among friends and lots of people.

You did care at first, but Aemond didn't and he started to slowly make you stop caring too.

"There are my two love birds!"

Aegon's voice makes both of you break off and look at him, also your friends, as he enters the kitchen already with a drink in hand and completely smiling, heading towards where you are.

"What's up man?"

He gives Ryan a friendly high-five and makes his way over to head towards your friends and Hel.

"Sis, I already told you, you look good, girls you too, beautiful," he says in a flirty tone and finally his gaze falls on the two of you, "Sister-in-law! First time we've seen each other since you've been with my brother and you don't know the satisfaction it gives me to call you that."

You laugh and Aegon wraps you in a hug.

"Also finally seeing you, again, Egg."

"Don't call me that if you want to continue to have my approval, you little demon."

"Oh come on, even if you didn't want to, we'd still still be approved by you."

"I hate you."

And even though Aemond doesn't have to feel jealous, he still has that instinct and also the protective one, so he interferes, wanting to feel close to you again, nor him bearing himself.

"Okay, that's enough."

Aemond interrupts their moment by pulling Aegon away from you and settling back between your legs, him being the barrier between his brother and you or anyone else actually.

"So soon we've already started with your jealousy, little brother?"

"Hands where I can see them."

"Okay, Officer Targaryen," he says with a pout, "Dude, this is a party, relax."

You smile and leave a kiss on Aemond's cheek, that being enough to make him content again.

"And mom already knows about this?" asks Aegon interested, "You know she'll go crazy, right?"

"Why?" asks Aemond.

"She'll go crazy and probably start crying from happiness, obviously," he says obviously, "And not just her, but Nyra, Daeron, Jace too, Baela, Rhaena, even Uncle Daemon-oh my god, I can already see what he'll say-you know what? I'll send him a picture of you two right now," he quickly grabs his cell phone and starts typing like crazy, "the fucker is going to love this."

You can't help but laugh loudly at this as Aemond also puts on a smile and not too soon after, the party really starts to get going.

Aegon is the one who starts to set the mood more and pretty soon you find yourself dancing with Aemond and your friends.

Or rather you are hugging him, with him having his hands on your waist, both of you moving from time to time to the rhythm of the music but kissing.

You also sing a few songs together, even Aegon joins in the fun in every person who is dancing, but you can't help but not kiss.

Drinks fly here and there, Aemond drinks too, but it is you who drinks too much and soon enough you find yourself dizzy, sitting on a couch with Aemond next to you with one of his arms around your shoulders and your head on his chest.

Your friends keep you company, also Hel. You don't talk as you are recovering because you don't want to get really drunk while Aemond laughs and talks to your friends, but still from time to time he talks to you and watches you to ask you if you are ok, leaving kisses on your forehead or cheek.

The minutes pass and you observe all the party around you, until your gaze meets again with a whole group of girls watching Aemond and you, but more you.

And it catches your attention that right in that group of girls is Alys, in the middle of all of them, murmuring and having a funny little smile on her lips, watching you.

You press your lips together, letting out a long breath, not wanting to make a big deal out of it but finding it impossible because of the mocking way you know she's talking about you.

Honestly, you didn't even remember Alys anymore. And you know Aemond doesn't even think about her anymore either.

But seeing her now, you teleport back in time to your high school days with the rich girls being mean to you.

And at that moment you try not to let Alys get to you.

You know you shouldn't be ashamed, rather she should be ashamed of what she did to Aemond and with that you feel at ease, knowing that you are not a disgusting person like her.

But being a little drunk and dizzy at the moment, it's a little hard for you not to care.

"Babe? Are you listening to me?"

Aemond's words snap you out of your trance returning to the party and you look at him a bit confused.

"Mmm?"

He smiles at you in amusement.

"I asked you if you need anything."

"Oh," you close your eyes, sighing, "No, I'm fine, thanks."

"Sure? Don't you need a glass of water, go to the bathroom or get some air?"

"Hmm…" you say thoughtfully, "No."

He chuckles a little at your behavior and leaves a soft kiss on your lips.

"You want to go home already don't you?"

"What? No, of course not," you quickly tell him confused.

" Babe, I know perfectly well when you lie to me and believe me when you're drunk, I know it even more."

You let out a sound of frustration, closing your eyes tighter, hiding your face in his neck.

"I'm not drunk and I don't want to ruin the party for you. We can stay a little longer," you tell him apologetically.

"No, babe, it's okay," he assures you, "Come on, can you get up by yourself?"

" Babe, no, it's okay, we can stay…".

"I want to go too. Right now I want to be home, with Vhagar and you, so come on, can you get up or not?"

Soon enough, the two of you say goodbye to your friends and his siblings, and Aemond helps you with your balance as you both head to your car, as yes you can walk but at any moment you can go more to the left or right than you need to.

"I love you," you murmur to him as he sits you in the passenger seat and buckles you in.

He smiles.

"I love you too, my pretty one," he says to leave a kiss on your forehead and close the door.

And again very soon you find yourselves arriving at the apartment, where a happy Vhagar greets you, while Aemond leaves you on one of the sofas and goes to the kitchen to get you some water and something sweet to make the dizziness go away faster.

"Here you go, love."

"Thanks."

He also takes a seat next to you and you start eating the sweet bread he brought you, while Vhagar climbs up on the couch with both of you as well.

"Do you want to watch a movie before we go to sleep?"

He asks you watching you carefully and you nod with your mouth full.

Aemond turns on the TV and starts searching for something on Netflix, while you're almost done eating and drinking water, honestly starting to feel better without noise and with some food in your stomach.

When Aemond switches from Netflix to HBO to put on your favorite movie, Harry Potter.

And it's not even ten minutes into the movie when you finish eating and all of a sudden you say:

"I want to hug you."

Aemond smiles beside you.

"You can hug me, babe. I'm right here."

And with that you don't need to hear any more, you quickly move towards him.

But Aemond thought you would want to lay your head on his chest and he would want to hug you around the waist so you could watch the movie, however, you sit right on his lap, your arms around his neck and your face hidden, your back to the TV.

That takes him by surprise but he doesn't complain, on the contrary, he pulls you tighter against him, slipping his arms around you to wrap his arms around your waist.

"I'm sorry we left the party so early," you murmur in his ear, apologetic.

"No, it's okay," he murmurs softly and lovingly in your ear too, " This is how I want to be with you. This is how I always want to be."

You let out a long breath, clinging a little tighter to him, leaving a soft kiss on his neck, feeling so loved.

Then, unable to help yourself, you again leave a kiss on his neck, then begin to leave more in a trail down to his cheek and lips, holding his face with one of your hands.

Aemond smiles all the time, especially when you kiss him with so much need and so much passion that you drive him crazy and he kisses you with just the same feeling.

He pulls away from you to catch his breath and you continue kissing his neck, stroking his hair and stirring in his lap, which makes Aemond alarmed hold you tightly by the waist, preventing you from moving too much.

But you continue with your kisses, on his neck, all over his face and finally on his lips, kissing him in a way you have never kissed him before and Aemond corresponds happily.

When your breathing and also his starts to get heavier and your kisses more… needy.

You again want to move on top of him, but Aemond again stops you by stopping you from kissing and watching you with some alertness and also warning.

"Y/N."

"What?"

Again you kiss him, clinging more towards him if possible and Aemond kisses you too.

But your need clearly starts to mean something else and Aemond stops you again the moment you slip one of your hands under his shirt to feel his body.

"No, wait," he murmurs, stopping you from kissing, breathing hard.

"What? What's wrong?"

You look at him confused and he lets out a long breath.

"You're drunk," he says softly, wanting to make you understand.

"Aemond, I'm not drunk," you insist, "I just felt dizzy, that's all."

You look at him with all honesty and clearly with all willingness, but Aemond continues to look at you with some sorrow and hesitation, also a little serious, because he is not quite sure about it.

"Aemond, please…" you plead, bringing one of your hands to his cheek, " I am thinking, I am conscious and believe me I have never been so sober in my life."

He lets out a long breath, pulling his gaze away from yours, that definitely catching your attention and now watching him with confusion and some disappointment.

"Or is it that you…" you are embarrassed in an instant, "you don't want to do it?"

And at this Aemond immediately looks at you again, worried.

"What? No, no, no, it's not that, babe, it's just that….".

He looks at you unsure, while you continue to watch him attentively, wanting to know, your lips parted and swollen, as well as your whole look willing and full of desire, your eyes more than anything else, just the same way he is.

But he can't do it, not this way without first talking it out and you being sure to take that big step.

"Yet you drink and I can't and won't do this if you're not sure."

"But I am," you insist, "I'm more than sure."

And even though you've said so and you're totally showing him how sure and willing you are, he still doesn't feel convinced, watching you carefully and with some regret.

"I promise, I'm very sure," you say again to kiss him again with the same need as before.

And Aemond reciprocates your kiss, but still continuing to hold you tightly around your waist, preventing you from moving and making him lose control completely.

Even he doesn't know why he keeps resisting nor does he know what else he needs to hear from you to do this, but your drinking earlier stops him completely.

He thinks you're telling him you're safe but you may still be influenced by alcohol and that's just what he doesn't want.

But you really are sober. You really want to do this.

You kiss him with such longing, passion and determination, to continue leaving wet kisses all over his neck, making him sigh and even more reason to control himself at that moment.

"Y/N," again he warns you.

"I want this, please," you beg, "I want this so badly," you murmur in his ear, leaving a few more kisses, caressing his abdomen over his shirt, "Let me show you how much."

His words alert you, but in an instant, you pull away just a little from him and remove your shirt, exposing your breasts covered by your black bra, watching him with desire and even with all that willingness.

Aemond holds his breath completely, surprised, watching you seriously, not being able to avoid looking at your breasts just for a second to look you in the eyes again.

"If you don't want to do this, say so now, Aemond," you ask him.

Then you, there in front of him, half naked, makes his gaze darken and his pupil grow larger, filling him completely with desire at the sight of you and definitely unable to resist any longer.

And now it is he who attacks your lips in a needy kiss, wrapping his arms around your waist, pulling you closer to him, while you respond in the same way, pleased.

You begin to move on top of him and this time he doesn't stop you, no longer able to control the notorious desire in his pants that begins to grow and that you begin to feel, only making you want more.

"You're so pretty," he murmurs against your lips, completely aroused, running his hands down your back, reaching for the clip of your bra.

"You're so beautiful too, Aemond," you reply between kisses, "I love you."

"I love you too."

You do the work for him and remove your bra in one motion, dropping it somewhere on the couch, not really caring.

Aemond grunts, definitely not being able to take it anymore and in an instant he places both of his hands on your ass and lifts you up to get up himself as well, carrying you towards his room, both of you without stopping kissing.

And that night, Aemond caressed every part of you and treated you like the petal of a flower, taking care not to hurt you and making you feel good at all times.

And you loved every moment, clinging to him, kissing his scar and repeating over and over again how much you love him, while he continued to make sure you were okay.

You took all the time in the world, there was nothing rushed and nothing forced, the two of you more than comfortable and letting yourselves be completely carried away by the moment, feeling so loved and so lucky.

That night… Aemond was yours and you were his, completely.

And in the end, you both couldn't have felt better, looking forward to what awaited you next, finally together.