#but it feels like you’re mad about this too and I just don’t know what to do because I don’t know what you want

[jarofstyles]

Appetency

Okay so we've got a bit of a long one. Kinda enemies to lovers if you blink, fuckboyrry turned softrry, dedication galore, hesitant Y/N and confident H, you're gonna love it. This is the first half- the other half is already up on Patreon and will be here later on 💕

Check out our Patreon for early access to the second half and 200+ exclusive writings

Warnings- slight angst, mentions of anxiety, alcohol, cocky h turned into a loverboy... nothing too crazy in this part.

WC- 8.5k

“Why are you every-fucking-where.” Y/N stopped short, glaring at the man across from her. The entire party, she had been trying to avoid him- but he wasn’t letting that be at all possible.

Harry grinned widely at that, the most obnoxious and infuriatingly pretty smile with those stupid dimples. Leaning against the wall as he studied her for a good moment, there was no hiding the not so casual enjoyment he got out of flustering her. 

Finally, he broke the silence, standing up from his casually cool stance on the wall. She knew he was going to say something that annoyed her and it was proven as he opened his mouth. "C’mon, don’t be like that. Perhaps you just can't keep me off your mind, baby girl. Can’t stop thinking about me, seeing me everywhere…"

“Ew. Do not call me that.” She wrinkled her nose in disgust for the nickname, walking past him. He followed, of course, because he always did. “Just because we have a few similar friends doesn’t mean you need to be at every social event. I’d love a break from your smug face.”

"You can't possibly be getting tired of this handsome face already…" He protested as he followed behind, his words purposely trying to rile her up. Getting a rise out of her seemed to make his whole day, and usually she would laugh it off but this time… things were different. Finding a spot in the kitchen, he watched as she puttered around trying not to look at him. 

His eyes danced with amusement as he added in some more. "Or are you just mad that I always seem to steal the show, love? Not my fault that I'm effortlessly charming and captivating, darling."

“Humble, too.” She snorted, grabbing a drink from the cooler. Buzzballs were not the thing she’d want to choose when she was thinking about the next morning, but they were exactly what she needed when it came to trying to mentally escape right now. “You’re insufferable. Really.” His eyes were on her as she used her nail to pop open the cap. 

“So are you going to leave me alone, or follow me around all night?”

Harry chuckled in amusement at her sarcasm, enjoying the way she rolled your eyes at him. "Leave you alone when you look this lovely? Not a chance in hell, darling." He hummed, tapping his own bottle against the counter. He paid no mind to the new people who entered the space, eyes glued on the girl he was talking to. "But as much as I'd love to keep annoying you, I have a much better way we could spend time. Don't you remember, love?" He purred. “I certainly do. It’s hard to forget the way it feels when you moan-” The interruption was instant, her hand gripping onto him. 

“Harry…” she hissed, tugging his arm further down the dark hallway and into a bedroom. Who’s? She didn’t know. All she knew was that she had seen where this was going, and she didn’t want him to say it too loudly. Everyone was so god damn nosy and respectfully, she didn’t want to deal with any of that. Not after all she had said.

“Listen.” Putting her hands on her hips, she tilted her head up at him as he stood a little too close. “We hooked up, it was a mistake. You know it.” Though it didn’t seem like he thought so considering how he trailed her ever since. “We… we were a little drunk and I was lonely and you were there.” 

Y/N knew she was slightly lying, but she was trying to fool herself. If she said it enough times, maybe she’d believe it. They’d always had chemistry. It was intensity that burned between them, her disdain and his addiction to getting a rise out of her. It was only a matter of time that they’d give into some sort of blow out- but she hadn’t expected it to be as good as it was. It couldn’t happen again. 

Harry had that knowing smirk on his face as she tried to deny it all, knowing exactly where this was headed. The thrill of chasing her, of getting under her skin was intoxicating, addicting. He loved making her growl and huff and glare at him, because it meant getting her undivided attention.

"Was it really a mistake?" He asked as he leaned against the door, finally giving her some breathing room.  "Or have you just been avoiding me because you couldn't stop thinking about it?"

The truth was that he had been thinking about that night ever since. Multiple times. Before he went to sleep, when he was in the shower.. It was hard not to. 

Her jaw clenched, placing her bottle down and crossing her arms. “Look. You’re hot, Harry. You don’t need me to tell you that. You’ve got plenty big of an ego. But I’ve been avoiding you because it can not happen again.” 

Y/N knew that Nina was into Harry and she really didn’t want to start any drama. Not that he even seemed remotely into her, but because she acted like he was someone she had dibs on. As gross as it was, she tended to start shit with anyone Harry pursued and she just wasn’t in the season for drama. There were other things to worry about other than start a feud over a man. 

He had known about Nina's crush on him, but he didn't care about her. He never had, and he never would. As fucked up as it was, what they had, in his mind, was just a harmless flirtation, nothing more. Y/N knew that, but Nina didn’t. He couldn't have been more clear he had no interest in her, but some people took delusion to heart. 

It didn’t matter how good Harry gave it to her last time, how hard her legs shook, how sore she was in the best way. Didn’t matter if his tongue was hot and through and how he’d cleaned her up with it. It couldn’t be repeated.

Harry's smirk only widened as she openly admitted he was attractive, his ego inflating even more. But when she mentioned avoiding him, his smile faltered slightly.

"Why can't it happen again?" He asked, moving closer to her, his eyes darkened. Too close, making her take a deep breath. If there was one thing he would give him, his presence was commanding. Felt. Her body was very familiar with his now, wanting to lean into him, but she fought it.

“Because.” She sighed tiredly. “I really can’t deal with any drama. I’m exhausted, and the last thing I need is that she-devil going after me because she thinks I’m ‘stealing her man.’ “

The man let out a laugh, amused by the comment. Yeah, he knew exactly who she was referring to and found it funny. He knew she could be a drama queen, and he definitely didn't care for her possessive tendencies, but he had told her that they had nothing going on between them and never would.

He stepped closer to her, his greedy hands reaching out to touch her hips, his touch firm. "You're not stealing me, love. She never had me, and she's delusional if she thinks she does." His eyes gleamed with desire as he looked at her, his touch becoming a bit more possessive in his own way. "And I want you, not her."

“Harry, you don’t actually want me.” She groaned in frustration, trying to ignore how her tummy dropped as he pulled her into him, his other hand curling around her jaw. Stupid body, stupid hormones, stupid muscle memory.  “You think you do because you like a chase. You don’t actually like me or anything, you like how I fuck.” She said bluntly, glancing up at him.

Harry's smug expression faltered as she protested. He could feel the annoyance, but he also noticed the way her body responded to his touch. There was no denying that. "Is that what you really think?" He asked, his grip on her jaw tightening slightly as he looked down at her. "That I'm just chasing you only for the thrill of the chase, for the sex?"

His eyes darkened, his other hand moving lower on her hip, pulling her flush against him. He could feel her body against his, the softness, the warmth, and he wanted it all back. There had been no way she could tell him that she hadn’t enjoyed it, considering he’d made her cum 3 times, made her gush all over his cock. She’d clung to him, held onto him, whimpered his name. But he’d taken care of her, he had gotten her some pomegranate juice and a snack, helped her tie her hair up, driven her home. When the contact had been nonexistent, he was hoping she was just making him work for it- but that wasn’t all this was to him.

“Yeah.” She furrowed her brows. “Is it not?” Harry wasn’t the relationship type, not usually. Everyone knew that. Y/N had constantly reminded herself that when they’d first met and she had a bit of a crush on him, only to see that he liked to fuck em’ and leave ‘em. It lost the appeal and she had resented him a bit for it. 

Was it fair? No. She knew that. But their dynamic had been built on that resentment. 

Harry's jaw clenched at her response, frustration and something else flickering in his face. He loosened his grip on her slightly, his gaze searching her eyes, trying to convey something she obviously wasn’t picking up on.

"And what if I told you that you were wrong?" He asked, his voice low. "What if I told you that there's more to me than just chase and sex?" He tilted his face closer to hers, his hand on her hip keeping her snug. He hadn't realized it himself just how touch deprived for her he actually was. Did she really think it was all just… a game? Had he not proven himself to her that night? Granted, he had maybe fucked up in how he communicated after but… the ball had been put in her court. 

He could tell that she was skeptical, but he was determined to make her believe him.

"I want you." He said firmly, his hand on her jaw moving to wrap around the back of her neck, his fingers tangling in her hair. "I want everything. Your body, your mind, your heart." His hand on her hip moved lower, his touch a little needy. "And the fact that I can't have you is driving me insane. Want you to believe me."

“But why?” She sputtered. “All we do is argue. All I do is blow you off and all you do is follow me around to piss me off.” 

She had no idea he had his own fascination with her. How he’d silently watched her, observed, saw how she was with other people and wanted that chance to feel that. To have one of those smiles for himself.

Harry shook his head with a light laugh, his grip on her flexing slightly as he stared down at the girl he had been playing cat and mouse with. "Because I'll take the arguing, the blowoffs, all of it, just to be near you. I don't know when it truly started, but you've gotten under my skin, love." He pushed her back against the door, his body pressed against hers, trapping the girl. Looking down at her, his eyes were dark with desire, with honesty. It was a little unsettling.

“Harry.” She swallowed, eyes fluttering as his fingers stroked over her jaw and down over her throat, tenderness tinging the touches. “It’s not funny if this is a joke. It’s not.”

Harry's let out a tired breath, his touch gentle as he stroked her delicate skin, taking advantage of every touch. He could see that vulnerability in her eyes, and it only made him more determined to prove himself. "M’not joking. " He said firmly. "This is serious, I want you, and m’not giving up until I have you."

“Then you’re gonna have to work for it.” She exhaled sharply, pushing out of his hold and escaping back towards the party.

Y/N was almost fooled into giving in again- but she could give in without a real, true idea of what he was dedicated to. Maybe it was cruel of her to try and write him off as a bit of a slut trying his luck, but she’d never been awarded the chance to get to know him outside of their usual dynamic. 

That was why, the next day, seeing him on her front porch had her gasping in surprise. “Shit!” She yelped, keys falling to the wood below her. 

He looked good. The night of sleep seemed to refresh him, he’d showered, and he was bright eyed this morning. Determined. Why? She didn’t know. But this was not at all what she had expected when opening her front door. “ You scared the fuck out of me. What are you doing here?”

"Good morning, love." He greeted her. “Nice to see you this mornin’. You look gorgeous.” That cheeky fucking grin, as usual, tilted on his mouth. 

She crossed her arms, raising an eyebrow in question. "You didn't answer my question. What are you doing here?"

Harry flashed her a grin, completely unfazed by her skepticism.  "I'm here to see you, of course." He said, as if it was obvious. “Silly thing.”

“Why?” She didn’t want to get too huffy with him but he was nearly speaking in riddles and she didn’t have the patience for that. “Are you alright?”

Of course he was amused at how frustrated she looked, finding her impatience obviously endearing. Maybe it was just her, though. Y/N was a bit of a weakness of his, he found. Pushing himself up the final step, he grabbed her keys and handed them back to her, making no effort to pull his hands away from her own. 

"I'm fine, love." He hummed casually. "I just wanted to see you." Holding her hands in his, his thumbs rubbing soft circles on the skin. Casual intimacy that slightly caught her off guard.

The girl merely looked at him in confusion.  The plan for today had been to go to the grocery shop and do stuff around the house, not entertain the man who had admitted to wanting her last night- but she knew if he was here, it meant he was determined to get his way.

Aka, spending time with her. 

“Okay.. So now you saw me.” She said lowly. “Do you want to go home now?”

The sight of her looking so flustered and on edge fueling his determination, he shook his head.  "Not yet." He said, his voice low and firm. "M’not leaving until I get some of your time."

Y/N closed her eyes, taking a deep inhale through her nose and exhaling through her mouth. Meditative breathing did wonders, it seemed. Usually. She knew Harry well enough to know that he wasn’t going to let this go. He was going to keep prodding until he understood that he probably had no actual intention of being around her long term. He was looking at her with metaphorical sex goggles on. Yeah, she was good in bed, but that was only a tiny portion of her. 

He’d learn eventually.

“Well, I have to go to the store. So…”

Harry watched you closely as she opened her eyes from the attempting to calm herself. It was a little unnerving to know she needed to calm down from such a simple interaction but then again, he had been coming on a little strong. It was his nature, but he tried to relax his stance a bit. No way was he going to let an opportunity to spend time with her be wasted. He was dedicated now, wanting to win her over.  "You're going to the store?" He leaned in closer. “Looks like I'll just have to come with you, then."

Y/N sputtered as he took her handbag and totes from her, tucking them under his arm as the other held her hand. 

“C’mon.” He said smugly, pulling her towards his car. She followed, confused at how he had just agreed to go grocery shopping with her. Willingly. It wasn’t something he liked doing and she knew that- she somehow had found out one night that he had his delivered- but he seemed eager to do this with her. 

The last thing she expected was for him to open the passenger door and help her inside, but he did. Like it was second nature, opening it up and taking her hand to aid her into sitting sound, placing her bags on her lap.

Harry's smirk widened as he scooped up her handbag and totes, his grip on your hand firm as he guided her towards his car. He snickered under her breath at her sputtered protest, enjoying her disbelief that he was actually willing to go grocery shopping with her. Like it was some sort of hardship.

Once he had settled her in, he leaned in closer, the smell of cinnamon gum filling her senses. Keeping his stance, his eyes locked on her, his gaze intense. He could see the confusion in her eyes, and it only fueled his determination to make it second nature to her, to expect this sort of thing from him. . 

"You look cute this morning." He said, his voice low and smooth. "Did you get much sleep last night?" He reached up and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, his touch gentle.

Her cheeks felt hot as he tenderly touched her, the softness of it all surprising her. “Um… I did.” The compliment had flustered her too. It wasn’t something she was used to from him. Their usual dynamic was tense on her end and being a pain in the ass with a stupid smirk on his. This sort of treatment was new to her. 

“Thanks. You look….” It felt unnatural to compliment him, but she meant it. Strangely enough. All of this was so new to her.  “Nice.”

Harry chuckled at the slight hesitation in her words, enjoying the way she was thrown off by his tenderness. One day she was going to accept it.  He smiled at her attempt at a compliment, narrowing his gaze at her. "Just nice?" He teased, raising an eyebrow.  He placed a light hand on her knee, his thumb stroking her skin in small circles, his touch gentle and comforting.

“Well, handsome? I dunno.” She grumbled. “Just so you know, you’re carrying all the grocery bags. If you insist on coming along you need to be useful.”

"Oh, I can be very useful, love. You jus’ need to find out what else I can off s’all." He said, his hand continuing its caressing on her knee, his touch sending a little jolt through her body "And don’t worry, I’ll carry all the bags. You just worry about picking out what you need."

Harry could see the doubt in her eyes as he reassured her about carrying the bags, and he knew he had to prove it. Not just that, but the whole thing. He hadn’t won her over quite yet, but he would. 

Removing his hand from her knee, he ignored how much he missed the touch and stood up straight, standing tall and strong next to the car. 

"You don’t believe me?" He asked, raising an eyebrow. "Just watch, sweetheart. Gonna shock the shit out of you."

——-

Y/N was suspicious. 

Harry was… behaving. More than, actually. He was being sweet and polite, borderline charming. Standing beside her as she pushed the cart, grabbing the items at the top shelves, not rushing her at all. He was flirty, sure, but nothing insane that truly made her roll her eyes at him. His voice was soft spoken and held only a tiny bit of the arrogance it usually did… and she liked it.

Who the fuck was this? And what had they done with the normal Harry? 

“You’re freaking me out a little.” She mumbled, checking off another thing on her list. “Like, you’re being pleasant. That’s not normal for you.”

"What, I can't be pleasant sometimes?" He teased, giving her a look. 

He couldn't help but grin as he watched her check off another item on the grocery list, his eyes roaming freely over her focused expression. He was enjoying this, he realized, enjoying the chance to be close to her more than he would have ever expected. "Maybe I’m just in a good mood today." He said, leaning against the cart.

“It’s just suspicious.” She glanced at him from the side of her eye. “You’re always following me around and trying to get me to snap at you. So excuse me for being a little confused when you’re acting so normal and nice.”

Harry liked working her up and getting reactions out of her, but he liked her. Y/N gave him the tummy butterflies, the excitement, the hot cheeks, all of it. She just didn’t know that- or was heavily in denial. It was his fault, he knew, from never expressing how serious the desires were and expecting her to read between the lines. But fuck, could she blame him? Y/N was a spitfire.

“Can you- fuck.” She groaned. “This can not get any worse.” 

Across the aisle, she saw her. Nina. Glaring at the scene of Harry standing a little too close to Y/N, doing a domestic activity like shopping together… It looked like they were way more than friends. This wasn’t something he liked doing and of course, the other girl would know that… So the situation didn’t look too good.

Harry could feel the shift in her mood as she spotted Nina across the aisle, and he tensed up slightly, ready for the inevitable confrontation.  Fuck, and they’d been doing so good. Of course, someone had to throw him a curveball. 

Good thing he was willing to work for this. 

"Relax." He said quietly, his hand squeezing her shoulder reassuringly, thumbing over the fabric. "I'll handle it."

Harry could feel the tension in her body as he held onto her, knowing that she was on edge. He knew Nina could be a handful, and he didn't want her to add to the stress of the situation. Especially after Y/N was seemingly warming up to him.

He took a deep breath and turned to her, his expression neutral but firm. 

"Nina." He said, his voice calm and steady- almost bored. "Why are you glaring at us like that?”

Nina’s eyes flicked between the pair, her expression hardening as she spoke. “What are you two doing?” She asked, her voice dripping with disdain. 

Harry kept his expression neutral, his hand on Y/N unmoving as he spoke to her. “We’re shopping. Is that a crime?” He replied, his tone cool.

Nina’s lip curled up in a sneer, her eyes narrowing. "Shopping? Is that all?" She asked, her voice dripping with sarcasm. “Awfully domestic, isn’t it?”

Harry chuckled, unruffled by her attitude. "Yes, Nina. We’re just picking up some groceries. Is that so hard to believe?" he challenged, letting her try and intimidate him. It wasn’t going to work. 

The girl’s jaw clenched as Harry responded to her, clearly annoyed at the lack of reaction she was getting from him. 

She took a step closer, sizing Y/N up with an unpleasant expression. She really needed to not make that face- it was unflattering.  “Is this a date or something?” She snapped, her eyes flickering over to Harry.

Harry chuckled at Nina’s question, finding her assumption humorous. 

He looked over at the girl he wished would say yes, his eyes filled with amusement. "What do you think, love?” He taunted.  Maybe it wasn’t the nicest thing to do, but he didn’t particularly care. 

Y/N rolled her eyes. This wasn’t what she wanted out of this interaction. Hell- she never wanted his interaction at all. “We’re shopping.” She said lowly. “And we have to go.”

Nina pursed her lips as her response, clearly unsatisfied with the answer she was given. She never could leave well enough alone. Harry could see her gearing up for another snarky comment, so he quickly interjected. 

"She’s right." He said, his tone firm. “We do have to go. Bye."  There was no hint of remorse on his face as he motioned for her to get out of the way. 

With that, he guided Y/N forward, steering both her and the cart towards the checkout area.

“Christ.” Y/N rubbed her temples. “She’s gonna try and burn my house down. I know it.” She sulked.

Harry chuckled at the outburst. He continued steering the cart towards the checkout area as she went back over the list, a small smile on his lips. 

"Don't be so overdramatic." He teased. "She's not gonna burn down your house. She's just jealous."

“Harry, she’s scared like, 4 women away from hanging out anywhere near you completely.” Y/N sighed. “I know you don’t see it as much, but she’s tenacious. I don’t know what’s going to get her to stop, but you need to actually have a conversation with her to tell her you’re not interested. Or whoever ends up being your girlfriend is going to have to deal with her crawling around.”

Harry’s smile faded slightly as she mentioned Nina’s past behavior. He knew she could be intense and possessive, but he didn’t realize the extent of her actions. Considering he hadn’t even slept with her, it seemed like a massive overreaction. Of course there had been natural curiosity over some of the women in their friend circle had gone, but now that question had been answered. 

He bit his lip, mulling over the words as he helped her load the groceries onto the checkout belt. "You’re right." He said finally, his voice serious as it broke up the beeping of the items being scanned. "I guess I didn’t realize it was that serious. M’sorry. I don't particularly want to have that conversation, but it needs to be had. I’ll talk to her."

Harry continued helping you with the groceries, lost in thought for a moment before speaking again. "I’ll talk to her soon, make sure she knows for sure me and her are never going to be a thing and if she wants to try and scare off anyone I talk to, she won’t be invited to anything else." He said firmly, his eyes serious. 

"But first," he added, breaking the tense air as his tone turned playful again, "We have to get these groceries home. I’m starving."

—

It was safe to say that she was even more confused than she had started off being. 

Harry helped her bring the groceries into her place. He helped her unpack. He even fed her cat while she washed the fruit so she could put it away. Helping himself to her house like he had a right to be there, a comfortability that had her a little spooked. 

It was hard to accept the thought of Harry actually liking her. First, she hadn’t ever seen him with a serious girlfriend. All she had been exposed to was seeing him fucking around with different people. Secondly, he was always so playful and unserious that internally, the most insecure part of her felt like maybe it was a trick, and it made her more apprehensive of him. 

It wasn’t fair of her to be so judgmental when she was not a virgin mary herself; she knew that she wasn’t giving him a proper shot, but it was scary. He was scary, in a way.  Maybe it was the idea of how far feelings could go if she gave in, but it felt hard to stop those original emotions she had towards him from coming back. 

“Thank you.” She said awkwardly as Harry sat at her breakfast bar. “Um, for helping put away the stuff and bringing it inside. That was really nice of you.”

Harry, who was lounging in a chair at the breakfast bar, chuckled at the awkward gratitude.  "S’no big deal." He said, his tone casual. "I’m happy to help." 

He leaned back in the chair, his eyes roaming over her face, his favorite thing to do. Watching her was the best part of being around her.  He could see the tension in her shoulders and the uncertainty in her expression, and it made him wonder what was going on in that head of hers. Why she was so apprehensive. Yeah, he knew he had a weird dynamic with her before, but no one thought of him as a bad guy.

The longer he looked, the longer Harry could tell that there was something bothering her, and he wanted to find out what. Call it morbid curiosity, but it was needed. He leaned forward a bit, his eyes locked on her pretty face.

"You seem a little tense." He said, his voice soft. "Is everything okay? You've been quiet since we got back."

She hadn’t expected him to call her out on it, but she should have. Harry was as blunt as they came, and she could have laughed at it if she didn’t feel a little anxious. 

“I’m okay.” She wrapped her arms around herself, looking at her feet for a moment the soft green ladybug socks he had given her a laugh over. “I’m a little anxious, I guess. This new dynamic kind of… put me off kilter.” The confession hung in the air before she continued.  “I’m used to you being annoying and… I dunno. It’s unfair of me, but I keep getting nervous that this is some joke to you and you’re gonna go back to being obnoxious once I let my guard down.” She winced. “And I’m sorry. That isn’t fair to you when I know I haven’t been the nicest to you either. But I guess you intimidate me a little.”

Harry listened intently as she spoke, his expression softening as she revealed the source of the troubled look on her face. He knew that he had been a bit of an arse in the past too, and he could understand why his sudden change in behavior had thrown her off. 

He leaned forward on his hands, his gaze still fixed on the girl’s tense stance, lips rolled into her mouth. "I get it." He said quietly. "And I’m sorry if I intimidated you or made you uncomfortable. That’s the last thing I wanted to do."  He ran a hand through his hair, sighing softly. "And as for this being a joke... it’s not. Not in the slightest. Trust me."

“I guess I’m a little confused too.” She admitted. “Where all of this is coming from. I know we hooked up a few weeks ago, but you didn’t call me or anything after. I wasn’t expecting you to, don’t get me wrong, but then I felt awkward seeing you at all the events and stuff and you were acting normal. I never let you get alone with me on purpose because I didn’t want to hear you tease me for giving into you.”

Harry’s expression soured a bit as she brought up the hook-up. He knew he hadn’t done anything to dispel her doubts about his intentions, and he felt a pang of regret.  He paused for a moment, gathering his thoughts. How could he explain it without sounding as stupid as he felt? “I know I didn’t call you after, and I should have. I was an idiot… I just… I thought maybe you wanted me to chase a bit, that the ball had been left in your court after I dropped you off at home and… and I didn’t think, honestly.”  He ran a hand through his hair, a frustrated sigh escaping his lips. 

“You have to understand why I’m a little uneasy.” With arms wrapped around herself, she let herself look back up at him. There was no trace of joking on his features and it did make her feel a tad bit better.  “It’s not that I didn’t like… what we did.” It was the best she’d ever had. “But I think I’m not cut out for just hooking up. I don’t regret it, even if I acted like I did.” She decided to give him a tiny bit of her vulnerability to see what he did with it. “I just know that hooking up, for me, never ends well. And I don’t know you really well, Harry.” She fiddled with the hem of her shirt, nerves shot. The last thing she wanted to do was seem desperate about locking him down or something, but she couldn’t lie to him or herself.

“I’m not trying to make you feel any sort of pressure to want to date me or anything. I’m just trying to lay down a boundary that for me, I think I’m one of those people that really needs an intimate connection and trust with someone. For some reason I trusted you that night, and I know you wouldn’t harm me in that way, but sobered up and standing in front of you, I feel a little apprehensive. Like, I don’t want you to feel any sort of pressure from me, but in order to have me in the way you said you want… it has to have some level of commitment is basically what I’m trying to say.”

Harry listened intently as she laid down the boundaries, his expression thoughtful. He could see the vulnerability in her eyes and in the way she fidgeted with her shirt, and it tugged at his heart in a way he hasn't felt before.  The last thing he wanted was for her to feel any sort of regret and he was glad she hadn’t so far, but he had to appreciate her laying out the law here. It gave him direction on where to go. When she finished speaking, he took a moment to process the words before responding. He can feel the seriousness of the conversation, and it's clear that she wasn’t making demands lightly.

He took a deep breath, his own vulnerability on display in his honest gaze. It was imperative to him that she understood how much he got it. How dedicated he would be to it if given the chance. "I understand." He said quietly, licking over his bottom lip. "I understand that you need a committed relationship, darling. I also understand that you need trust and intimacy in order to get there." he added, his voice soft. 

He took a moment to organize his thoughts, then continued speaking. It should be laid out in front of her. “You know, I’ve been thinking about this a lot lately… about us, I mean.”

“What do you mean?” She asked quietly, taking the moment to look him in the eye. It was the most serious she had ever seen him. Usually he had that smirk on his face, so smug or teasing, he’d be poking and prodding at her to get a reaction- but nothing about this interaction was insincere. It was almost off putting to see him this way.

Harry's gaze met hers, his eyes intense. "I mean that I've been thinking about us in a more serious way." he admitted.  He took a deep breath, his expression tentative. "I know I've been kind of hot and cold with you… and I know that I've played games in the past. But after we hooked up… I really couldn’t stop thinking about you. How different we were like that… How good it felt. So I want you to know that... I don’t want to play games with you. I want t’be serious about this."

Y/N hadn’t expected that answer. In all honesty she thought he’d reject her, say he wasn’t into it and keep it moving. That was what she was prepared for- not this. That sort of confession had her realizing that maybe she really didn’t know him at all. She knew some parts, sure, but seeing him like this was brand new. This man in front of her was a familiar stranger, at least this new side.

“I’d have to get to know you better.” She brushed her hair behind her ear, giving him a tentative look. “And it would be a little slow. I think I could give you a chance, though. I’ve been unfair to you, I think. I feel like we… kind of got off on the wrong foot.”

Harry lets out a small sigh of relief, a hint of a smile playing on his lips. “I’m okay with slow.” he says, his voice sincere. “I’m willing to work for it.”

He leaned back a bit, giving her a little more space as a hint of his usual playfulness returned to his features.. “And I think you’re right… we got off on the wrong foot. But I’m glad we’re taking the time to get to know each other now.”

——-

—— 

Harry was coming over again. 

It was strange. Since they’d agreed to explore something romantic, seriously, he had changed. Not completely, not to the point where she wondered who he was before, but enough to make her soften up. Hints of him being a pain in the ass we’re still there. But he was… sweet. Genuine. A little silly in a cute way that she hadn’t allowed herself to enjoy before. 

One of the biggest shocks of all, was the fact that he was so gentle with her. He handled her with care, even if he was a little overly touchy. She was getting used to it because she found herself liking it, but he was the first guy to really be a bit of a clinger. 

That was the last thing she had ever expected from him.

His touches were soft and sweet and he looked at her with this little twinkle in his eye that she knew he couldn’t genuinely fake it. He liked her- liked her , liked her. 

She was still a bit shy with him, but it was slowly melting away each time they saw each other. Now the nerves were barely there, being overtaken by anticipation and excitement. It wasn’t something she’d ever thought would happen- being excited and antsy to see Harry, wanting him back in her house. 

He was coming over tonight and she had been prepping for a bit, primping and priming herself even though she wanted to look casual. There was never once so far that he hadn’t told her she looked gorgeous, and it had started becoming part of her daily routine. She wanted to impress him, make him say it again and mean it.

Her tummy twisted as she heard his car door slam shut, smiling to herself as she adjusted her cropped top and went towards the door. 

He was beautiful. Really, gorgeous as she opened the door to reveal him in the early evening light. He looked a little tired from work,slight bags under his eyes, but his smile melted her a little as he walked right into the house, dropping his bag in the foyer with little care for its well-being and picked her up in a big hug. Her feet dangled as she squealed, strong arms wrapped around her waist as he lifted her effortlessly. 

“Hi.” She beamed shyly, feeling him set her down on the floor.

Harry couldn’t help but grin as he placed her down, his strong arms wrapping around her waist lazily.. He loved how delicate she felt in his arms, and he loved the way she squealed with surprise as he lifted her up a bit. Really, he loved most things that had to do with her. Taking a moment to admire her cozy appearance, his gaze lingered on her cropped top. “Hi.” He replied, his voice soft and warm. “You look beautiful.”

Like clockwork.

Before she could respond, Harry was pulling her back into a hug, burying his face in her shoulder as he held her, rocking slightly. A prime example of how touchy he was, unable to stop himself. He nuzzled her neck, letting his cool nose brush against the hot skin. “I missed you.” he mumbled, his voice muffled against her, leaving a little shiver in it’s wake..

When he said things like that it made her want to giggle madly, but also melt into a puddle. He truly meant it, was the thing, and she had a hard time understanding how this had happened. How he had gone from her little enemy to the person she looked toward to seeing the most. 

“I missed you too.” She admitted, fingers tracing down his back. It was an attempt to get more open about her feelings. Harry was being candid about his own, so she felt like she could extend him the same grace. Even if it was slightly terrifying, she had no reason to hold back anymore.

Harry pulled back slightly to look at her, a soft smile on his lips at her shy admission. "I like it when you say that." he teased, his voice low.  He brought his hands up to rest on her hips, his thumbs tracing small circles on the bare skin. He loved the way the cropped top revealed just enough to make him want more, and he found himself struggling to focus on anything but the feel of her body under his hands.

Harry wanted her, and there was obvious desire for her there. In all honesty, there was a lot of desire for her in general that he had done his best to keep under wraps  He’d been so good, trying so hard to prove himself- but that didn’t mean he was a saint. He was beyond attracted to her in every sense of the word, and it was hard to ignore that..

“Excuse me.” She let her smile grow, her tone playful. “My eyes are up here.” 

Y/N knew Harry wanted her in all of the ways, and he’d been exceedingly patient. He knew she was trying to build their connection before getting intimate with him again, and she appreciated it- but that didn’t mean she didn’t enjoy knowing he desired her. 

Or that she didn’t have those same urges.

Harry's gaze flicked back up to meet hers, a cheeky grin on his face. "I know where your eyes are. I look at them plenty, do I not?" He replied smoothly, his hands still resting on her waist, giving a gentle squeeze.  He couldn't help but let out a small laugh as she shot him a look, his eyes sparkling with mirth. "But you can't expect me to ignore the rest of you when you're wearing something as distracting as that." Testing the waters, he was seeing how far his flirtation could go.

“It’s loungewear, you freak.” She scoffed, a hint of a smile turning up her lips. Leggings and a cropped top were a bit of a reward for him, though. She figured if he had been so patient with her then he could at least get to look at her. “But I’m glad you like it.” 

Taking his hand in her smaller one, she led him towards the kitchen to show him the pizza boxes and salad she had made to pair with it, feeling weirdly shy about it. That was the theme of today, considering she had come to a conclusion in her head- but he didn’t need to know about it quite yet. “I knew you’d be hungry when you got off work, so I ordered ahead.”

Harry's eyes lit up as he saw the food, warmth spreading through him. No one had been thoughtful like that to him before, but of course she would be. This sort of thing was why he had liked her. He’d seen it time and time again with their other friends and secretly wished for some of it for himself, that sort of care… and now that he got it, he felt that yearning for her get a little bit stronger. He let out a low whistle. "You knew exactly what I needed." he murmured, a grateful smile on his lips. 

Pulling her into him, his arms wrapping around her waist from behind. He nuzzled her neck again, his breath warm on her skin. "You're too good to me." he murmured, his voice showing just how grateful he was.

Y/N shivered slightly as he spoke against her skin, large arms wrapping around her and making her feel that same brand of delicacy that only Harry had been able to accomplish. His arms were just… beautiful. Built and muscular, covered in those tattoos, she loved every single thing about them. Looking at them, feeling them, how he used them… she couldn’t admit it out loud yet, but being in his arms was one of her new favorite places. 

“You texted and said you didn’t sleep well and you had a rougher day at work and… I dunno. I thought maybe you’d like something ready when you came over. I would have cooked myself but I had a workshop.” She rambled on a little bit, feeling the need to overexplain herself.

Harry squeezed her tighter, his chin resting on her shoulder. He inhaled her scent, his nose buried in hair as she spoke. 

"Mmm. " He hummed, his voice low and gravelly. He ran his nose over her throat, lips brushing against the sensitive skin. "You didn't have to do all this, you know." He moved his hands down over her hips, his thumbs tracing soft circles on the exposed skin there. "But I'm really grateful you did." He was quiet for a moment before speaking again, his grip on her tightening slightly. "Can I ask you somethin’?"

“Hm?” She replied. It was hard to focus. Sure, it would be awkward if anyone else say them just standing in her kitchen with the large man wrapped around her body, but no one else was there to judge her for indulging both herself and him in this sort of cuddle. 

Harry's body was pressed against her, a small smile on his lips. He really did enjoy this moment of quiet intimacy just as much as he enjoyed the more energetic moments where they’d go out or he’d help her take care of her garden.

"Can I stay over tonight?"

It should have been a scarier question to her, all things considered, but the answer came out of her mouth naturally. 

“Sure.” She nodded. There was no second guessing it either. “Is that what that bag was?” She realized he had brought in a bigger duffle than his usual work one, but she had thought it was maybe just to change from his work clothes.

Harry's smile grew as she agreed so easily. "Mhmm." he hummed, his voice low. His hands moved up her sides, tracing the curve of her waist. "I wanted to be prepared just in case you said yes." Presumptuous? He’d prefer the terms hopeful, even confident. They’d been doing so well, he had to at least ask.

He pulled back slightly, looking down at her with a hint of a smirk on his face. "So... where can I sleep?"

He turned her in his grip, letting her look up at his face now with narrowed eyes. Her heartbeat quickened though she tried to calm it down. He was teasing her a little bit, but he did genuinely want to know. 

“If you promise no extreme funny business… you can sleep in my bed.” She placed her hand on his bicep, squeezing a little. It was her own reward. “But remember, Harry. No sex. Okay?” Gliding her other hand up to cuff over the back of his neck, she decided it was finally time to tease him back a bit. “However… If you’re really, really nice to me… I may let you kiss me again.”

Harry's smile widened, his eyes sparkling with a hint of challenge. He leaned down, bringing his face closer to the girl’s.  "You're being bold, darling." he teased, his voice low and playful. "Are you trying to tempt me?"

“A little.” She hummed. “I like when you’re sweet to me. So if you keep it up, I’ll let you kiss me as long as you’d like tonight. I know I’ve been holding all of that intimacy hostage…” 

It had been driving him wild. Near kisses and her letting him brush his hand over the curve of her ass a few times before putting them back up to her hips, he’d tested the waters but got rejected. Now, she was loosening up a bit. 

“So.” She blinked up at him. “Are you gonna be nice to me tonight so you can kiss me?”

Harry's eyes glinted with a mixture of desire and playful mischief. He loved it when she teased him just as much as he loved it when she got all shy and flustered. Which one he likes more, he couldn’t tell. "Oh, I'll be so nice to you tonight you won't be able to stand it." he purred, his voice low and husky. 

He wrapped his arms around her waist, drawing her closer until their bodies were flush against each other. "But I have one condition, little miss."

“What is that?” She questioned, unsure what it could be. With him, it could be anything.

"You have to promise me that if I'm being too... forward, you'll tell me to back off. I don't want to overstep. Even though I want to kiss you until you can't think straight. So promise me you'll speak up if I get too much." 

Her smile widened, nodding in agreement. He’d just earned himself quite a few points. Never had she expected him to be as respectful as he was, but she utterly adored it.  “I will. I promise, I’ll tell you.” She agreed, leaning up to kiss the curve of his jaw. “But it’s time for you to eat. I can feel your tummy grumbling.”

Harry let out a low chuckle, his eyes flickering over her pretty face. He loved the way her smile widened, and the feeling of her plump lips against his jaw send a shiver down his spine. More. He wanted more, and more, until their mouths were tingling and numb. Until she looked drunk on the kisses, clinging to him like he could only hope.

"Mmm. Okay, fine." he grumbled. "I'll eat. But only if you feed me, since you were so kind as to order ahead for me." He gave her a puppy-dog look, his lower lip jutted out in a mock-pout. It was good, she’s give him that- but not good enough.

“Absolutely not.” She snorted. “Nice try.”

[hyunjins-orange-slice-too]

Hi can I request first time with chan with shy reader? 🥺👉🏼👈🏼

i’ll help you through it, yeah?

pairing: chan x virgin reader

genre: smut, fluff, friends to lovers

word count: ~2.6k

warnings: mutual pining, pet names, protected sex, praise.

authors note: i have this request in my inbox for other members as well, so look out for those in the future. i have so many requests (tysm btw) so it’s taking me a little while to get through them. i’m trying to do the oldest ones first because y’all been waiting so long. - not me blushing while writing this. i wish my first time was this sweet. lol

masterlist

"i’m just sick of it, ya know?" you complained. "i’m sick of feeling like this. like im unwanted and missing out on something."

your best friend looked at you, intently listening, but worry starting to mar his features. "are people being mean to you because you’re a virgin?" you could sense the anger threatening to rise up out of him at the thought of someone being mean to you.

"no. this is just pressure i’m putting on myself at this point. im too old to still be a virgin."

"i don’t think that’s true." chris said. "i thought you were saving yourself for someone you really loved? wasn’t that the point?"

he was right, you had always said that since you and chris were kids. you didn’t want your first time to be some fleeting, gross experience. you wanted it to be sweet and full of love. but, it didn’t seem like that was working out and you were tired of waiting.

"yeah well i don’t think that’s going to happen." you said, your voice soft, almost sad. "the person i love doesn’t love me, so im just going to have to give up on that." you chuckled sadly, the sound almost a scoff.

"i understand that. im in the same situation." he confided. "but i haven’t given up. i don’t think you should either."

you looked over at him, the space between you both on the couch was small. you could feel the warmth radiating off of him. that’s just how chris is. he’s warm. he’s warm and he’s safe and.. how could you not be in love with him? your heart longed for him to be the one to take your virginity. your heart ached with the thought of it.

he looked back at you with his big brown eyes, his curly hair tickling his eyelashes. and he thought you were the most beautiful person he had ever seen. why couldn’t you just see how in love with you he is? he hated himself for not being able to confess to you. for not being able to just come clean and tell you how you are the center of his universe. but he was scared. to have you as his best friend and to long for you but never have you was better than telling you and losing you all together. but maybe.. he could try to help you with your current problem? see how things went and then he could decide from there what he would do.

"i could maybe.. help you." chris said shyly, rubbing his sweaty palms together in his lap.

you were shocked. "help me? with this?" why would he offer to help you unless he also wanted to? you felt a small bit of hope bloom in your chest.

"only if you want to." he said quickly. "i’m not trying to push myself on you. i’m just trying to help. we don’t have to."

you thought about it for a moment, your body screaming at you to say yes. but your mind was telling you everything that could go wrong. what if he hated it? found you gross and laughed at your inexperience? you brushed those thoughts off. you and chris has been friends for over fifteen years. he would never do something like that to you. he was kind.

"i would be okay with that.." you said. "but it might not be very good."

"i’ll help you through it, yeah?"

you loved him. god you loved him. this was the right decision,you knew that.

he scooted closer to you on the couch, your thighs pressed against each other. he touched your face, turning you to look at him. he looked in your eyes before saying "if you want to stop, just tell me,okay? i won’t be mad." you nodded as he looked down at your lips. and ever so slowly, not wanting to overwhelm you or scare you, he leaned it. his pillow soft lips made contact with yours and you were done for. he moved his lips against yours, his hand moving to cradle the back of your head. your hands found their way around his neck, tangling in his curls.

this felt so right, but your stomach churned with worry. your body was still tense.

"sweetheart, relax." he whispered against your lips. "you know me." he kissed you again, his tongue grazing your bottom lip. you felt embarrassed. kissing chris felt like the first time you had ever kissed anyone,even though that wasn’t the case.he had you so flustered, your lips weren’t listening to your brain’s commands. you opened your mouth and let his tongue in. he tasted sweet.

he pulled away, admiring your flushed cheeks. "do you want to move to your bedroom?" he asked. you nodded, and he stood, offering you his hand. he led you though your apartment and to your bedroom, knowing the way by heart. standing at the edge of your bed, he pulled you close. he kissed you again, his hands finding their way under your shirt, tickling the skin of your tummy.

"can we take this off?"

your hesitation made him pull away, studying your face for any signs of wanting to stop. "would it help if i took mine off first?" you nodded again, thankful for his suggestion. "you want to help me?"

you grabbed the hem of his black shirt and pulled it up and over his head, discarding it on the floor. you looked at him, at his body. you had seen him shirtless multiple times over the years. summers spent together swimming and early mornings at his apartment after late night study sessions, but this was different. his chest was bare because he wanted you to see it. and that made your skin hot.

"now you.." he said, reaching for your shirt slowly, giving you time to protest. but you didn’t. you let him pull your shirt off, leaving you standing in front of him in your jeans and lacy black bra. his eyes grew wide, his breath catching in his throat. could he do this? you were so beautiful and he hadn’t even seen all of you yet. you were starting to squirm under his stare. his hands were warm and soft as they grazed over your skin, his arms wrapping around your waist as he moved to kiss you again. his fingertips danced up your back, until they unclasped your bra and it fell to the floor. he continued kissing you, not looking at your bare chest right away, giving you time to get used to being bare in his presence. you nipples brushed against his chest, growing harder. arousal pooling between your legs as his kisses moved to your jaw and then your neck.

he took his time with you, slowly placing wet kisses on your skin as he guided you to the bed. he laid you down gently, his body hovering above you. he kissed down to your collarbones, across your chest and down to between your breasts. he looked up at you, his lips still pressed to your skin. your cheeks were red, your mouth slightly open as you tried to draw in breath. he saw no signs of stopping in your eyes. no , they begged him to continue. his lips closed around one of your nipples, his tongue gently caressing the nub. his hand gripped your waist as he sucked on your nipple, your hands balled into fists at your sides.

"you can touch me if you want to, baby." he said, his breath blowing cold against the wet skin of your breast. "don’t hold back."

he kissed his way across to your other nipple as you brought your hands to his hair. he started to move lower, until his lips were against your belly button, and even lower still until his tongue was running along the top of your jeans. "can i take these off?" he asked, fingers grazing over the button and zipper. with your approval, he carefully unbuttoned them and slid them down your legs, revealing your panties that matched your bra. he looked up at you, his face only inches from your center. "you’re so wet, baby." he said. "i can see a little wet patch on your panties."

your face flushed and you turned your head, hiding your embarrassment in your pillow.

"hey.. hey.." he said, his hand finding yours, tangling your fingers together. "don’t hide, baby. let me see your pretty face." you did your best to look at him, trying not to focus on your insecurities, but trying to focus on him instead. you squeezed his hand, his kind brown eyes showing nothing but love. he kissed your hip, and across your skin until he was placing a gentle kiss on your clothed clit. you jerked slightly. "is that the spot baby?" you nodded, biting your lip.

he pulled away, standing up. he chuckled at your pout, your little whines of protest. "just let me take these off." he unbuttoned his jeans, and kicked them to the side. he was only wearing his underwear now, his erection causing the material to stretch uncomfortably. he admired your body from this angle. your arms wrapped around your middle, your legs bending, trying to cover yourself. "don’t." he said, grabbing one of your wrists in each hand and holding your arms out. "let me look at you, baby. god, you are so beautiful."

his hands found their way back to your breasts,squeezing slightly before his fingertips grazed down your skin to the elastic of your panties. he hooked his fingers around them. "can i take these off? can i see your little pussy?" you lifted your hips in answer, helping him slide them off. you were completely naked in front of him now but you didn’t have time to be self conscious about it. his lips were already back on your skin,kissing everywhere he could reach. "fuck you’re so pretty." he mumbled against your tummy. "been dreaming about this."

what did he mean by that? you wondered.

"can i see you too?" you asked, your voice sounding so loud to your own ears, having been silent for so long. but you were starting to feel more comfortable. he made you feel so safe.

"of course you can." he said, straightening again to take his briefs off. and now you got to admire him for a moment. the hard muscles of his chest and abdomen leading down to his hard and leaking erection. the first thing you thought was that he was big. but honestly, you didn’t really have much to compare it to.. so what did you know? "don’t worry baby. we’ll go slow." he said, sensing your hesitation.

he leaned down to kiss your lips once again, his fingers making contact with your wetness. he rubbed soft circles on your clit. you grabbed onto his shoulders, your small whimpers falling into his mouth.

"does that feel good?" he asked.

"yes.." you breathed. "so good."

his fingers traveled down through your folds and teased your entrance. "i’ve got to prepare you a little bit, okay? like this.." and he slid one finger inside of you slowly, pumping in and out. you had done this to yourself before but this was completely different. you had never felt like this before. "there you go, baby." once he felt you had gotten used to the first finger, he added a second. he moved them in and out slowly, his thumb rubbing softly on your clit. you could feel your orgasm building. you were embarrassed by how quickly it had come. but you had been waiting so long for him to touch you like this, you couldn’t help it. he could feel you fluttering around his fingers. "are you going to cum?" he whispered against your neck, his lips pressing soft kisses, his teeth nibbling.

"yes.. yes fuck." you panted.

"go ahead, baby. let go."

and you did, you clamped down on his fingers, his name falling from your lips as your body shook.

he had been fantasizing about you moaning his name like that for so long now that it took everything in him not to bust right then. he took a deep breath, pulling his fingers out of you. you watched as he brought them to his mouth and licked them clean, your pussy dripping and pulsing, begging for more. he leaned over the side of the bed and fished a condom out of his pants pocket.

"are you ready?" he asked, holding the condom up.

"yes please." you said, breathless.

"ooh so polite." he teased, giggling as he tore the foil pack open. you watched as he pumped himself a few times, precum leaking from his swollen tip, before sliding the condom down his length. he leaned down and cupped your face, kissing you softly. "remember, we can stop at any time. just tell me. okay?"

"i don’t want to stop." you said, desperate. "please don’t stop."

he smiled. "i won’t unless you tell me to." he knelt in front of you, his hands on your knees, spreading your legs. he lined himself up with your entrance before slowly pushing the tip in. you gasped and his head fell back, his mouth open. he slowly inched his way inside, giving you time to adjust. you whined under him, your eyes squeezing shut at the stretch. "i know, baby. i know." he said. "you’re doing so good." once you felt his thighs on the back of yours, he stilled. letting you properly adjust to his size. he could feel you pulsing around him, his cock begging to cum. "i’m gonna move now, okay?"

you nodded frantically. "yes. yes please, please."

he slowly pulled out and pushed back in, his pace increasing with each thrust. he wasn’t going to last much longer. he knew that. "fuck— baby you feel so g—good." he stuttered. his hands were digging into your hips as he pumped into you. his mouth open, his eyebrows scrunched together, his hair sticking to his forehead. "are you doing okay?"

"fuck yes.." you gasped. "gonna— gonna cum."

he could feel you squeezing around him. he fell down on to his elbows, his arms caging your head, his panting breath in your ear. he continued pumping in and out of you, the wet sounds filling the room. "cum with m-me baby." he said. "fuck- fuck-"

you squeezed him tighter as your orgasm washed over you, you vision going dark. his thrusts got sloppy and then stopped all together as he spilled into the condom. he collapsed next to you, his panting matching your own. he lazily kissed your jaw and your shoulder. "i love you.." he said.

you froze.

"shit- sorry." he said. "i- i didn’t mean to ruin the moment.. it slipped out."

you turned to face him, his brown eyes looking worried. "i love you too.."

his hand caressed your cheek, his thumb rubbing softly back and forth. "really? you’re not just saying that because your overcome with emotion right now?"

you shook your head no. "i’ve been in love with you for a while now.." you confessed.

he chuckled. "i’ve been in love with you for a while. guess we were both too scared to say anything."

you nodded, feeling blissfully happy. you nuzzled into his chest, wrapping your arms around his waist.

"are you okay?" he asked. "was that.. okay?"

"i feel amazing." you said, your voice muffled by his chest. "i’m glad i waited for someone i truly love."

"gahh my heart." he said, squeezing you tighter,

[dumblilb]

I Could Be Enough

Vi x Fem!Reader

(Synopsis: They weren’t super close as children, but running around in the same crowd kept them in the know of each other. But years later she might be all Vi’s got left.)

(Warnings: drunk!vi, alcohol, mentions of physical violence ‘ not towards reader’, it’s mostly fluff, a little bit of angst, no mentions of physical attributes, just she/her pronouns, not proof read)

(Requested: yes)

(Words: 1,585)

* ・゚☆ 。・ * ・゚★ 。・ * ・゚☆ * ・゚☆ 。

You don’t even know how it got to this point. Sitting at the booth in a gross, sticky, and dark club, watching over a girl you didn’t think you would ever see again. And maybe you were right. Cause she’s not the same girl you remember running around the streets of the under city as a child. The one who always had a bright look in her eyes as she tried so hard to live up to her father’s name, and keep her siblings safe.

But one thing was the same behind those, now dark and sad, slate grey eyes. She was a fighter. In the most literal sense. She couldn’t keep her fist off a jaw if she tried. Night after night she would cover her distinct tattoos and red hair with dark paint. Disguising herself from the public who claimed her strength as a prize. Or maybe even hiding from herself. She wasn’t to sure anymore.

But as the nights carried on the paint got messier and the drinks were getting stronger. And it was hard to watch. But here you were. Watching. So hard you thought your eyes might bleed from all the strobing lights and smoke filling the air. Any other night you might have gone to bed. Ignored the aching feeling you had, and left her to party the rest of the night away. But you couldn’t. Because there she was also watching you. As she sloppily got up with a bottle in her hand and started to walk towards the exit, the urge to follow consumed you. Because you knew she wanted you too. She was practically begging. And so you did. Meeting her by the stairs leading to her small apartment.

“Thank god you came, I thought I was gonna have to drink all alone tonight.” She slurred and you sighed resting your hip against the wall, propping yourself up.

“What would you do without me.” You smiled at her. Trying not to be angry with how fucked up she sounds. Slyly taking the bottle from her and helping her steady by the waist you walk her home.

“You know you’re so pretty when you’re mad at me.” She sighs as you push her door open. You just roll your eyes. She’s been doing this for months. Ever since her first pit match. You were hired as a sort of nurse for the ring. Patching up the people who were getting their shit rocked, and the people doing the punching. Making sure they were healed enough for their next match. And the second you saw her step in that ring you knew it was her. Sure she looked a little different. But her deep upper cut. You could never forget that.

So you causally brought up growing up in the lanes while bandaging her fists that day. How you were pretty shy but always friendly with a boy named Ekko. And he had introduced you to his friends a few times. You could tell she remembered you. But she didn’t say anything. Which was okay. You could tell she didn’t really want to be known at that point. But as time went on she spent more time talking to you after matches. Sitting at the bar just trying to figure out how life got both of you here.

But she also found alcohol along the way. And that concerned you. She would always assure you she was fine. And you chose to believe her. Even though it sometimes seemed she would look right through you. Like she wished something else was there.

But even before the alcohol, the casual flirting was always there. Comments about how attractive you looked and how nice you were to her compared to the other fighters. Claiming you made her feel ‘so special’ and not just because it was coming from a beautiful girl like you.

So as you sit her down on her small bed and pull out some supplies to remove her makeup you can’t help but shake your head at her.

“Your dumb fake flirting isn’t going to get you out of this one vi. You’re a mess.” You sigh pushing her hair back with one hand, removing her makeup with the other.

“It’s not fake and you know it.” She rolls her eyes. “I want you. Please.” She says griping the hand with the cloth in it. Rubbing her thumb across your knuckles softly. The difference between her ruff scared hands and yours now glaringly apparent.

“You’re drunk and exhausted, and I wouldn’t be surprised if you had a bit of a concussion after today’s match. I haven’t seen you get hit that hard in a while.” You say ignoring her advances. As you’ve done before.

“I’m fine. You know I’m fine.” She reassures you. But the wavering of her eyes says otherwise.

“I know you think you’re fine-“ you remove your hand from hers and finish wiping her face. “But I see you, Vi. And this isn’t fine.” You say pointing from the bottle resting on her little table to her bruised fists.

She groans tossing her head back. And you gear up ready for a fight about how you don’t know what you’re talking about. But she rubs her eyes a little, her breath slowly becoming unsteady.

“You’re right I’m sorry.” She breathes out looking at you. The small bit of light roaming the room makes the wateriness of her eyes sparkle. “God I’m so tired and I don’t know what to do.” She cries.

You don’t even know how to respond. She’s never really cried in front of you before. She’s always been so tuff. But as she sits before you, even her toned and muscular body couldn’t make her look strong.

“I’m so lonely. All I have at this point is you. And you don’t even want me.” She continues and your face softens. Kneeling down in front of her you softly stroke her hair, pulling her in for a hug. She cautiously wraps her arms around you. Like just her touch might scare you away.

“You have me. You do. I think you have for a while now. I just didn’t think you were serious.” You reassure her. Her head nuzzles into the crook of your neck, and you can hear her breathing steady slightly.

“I’m always serious about you.” She says softly, it being a bit muffled by her position. She pulls away from the hug, resting her forehead to yours. “Can you stay please. I don’t want to be alone.” She asks quietly. Her warm breath hitting your lips.

“I’ll stay.” You grin and she moves to get up and grab a blanket. You help get her ready to lay down, removing her thick boots and setting aside the dirty cloth.

She props the blanket in your lap and she lays down. At first you just smile at how dainty she looks compared to how you usually see her. But her strong arm pulling you down next to her snaps you out of it pretty quickly.

Pulling the blanket over you both, you run your fingers through her hair. Analyzing her face one feature at a time. Her eyes seem a little more blue in this lighting. And you can finally see the small freckles adorning her skin.

“Are you trying to seduce me.” She asks with a soft laugh. “Cause it’s working.”

“Don’t get any funny ideas. That’s not happening. At least not tonight.” You say and you could have sworn her cheeks got a little pink.

“Well then you’ve got to stop staring at me like that… At least not tonight.” She jokes rolling over. Making you smile.

With her back to you, you place an arm around her waist holding her firm. You could feel her body stiffen and you try to remove your arm but she stops you. “No wait. This is good.” She whispers. “This is good.” And she holds your arm tight to her. Rubbing circles across it with her fingers. Her whole body relaxes against yours and you smile against her neck.

“You know I’m not that same girl anymore.” She sighs a little out of no where. But you get it, she’s trying to give you an out. A chance to run. You hum in response. “I’m different I think. I’m not as strong as I used to be.” She continues and you know she’s not talking about muscle, or brawn. She used to be a leader. Someone people looked up to. And now… most people didn’t even know her real name.

“That might be true. But that’s okay.” You say pressing a soft kiss to the base of her neck. “You’ve been through a lot. I think you’re holding on to a girl who didn’t know what life was yet. And you’re grown up. It’s normal to not be the same. Or feel the same.” You continue and she turns to face you. Caressing your cheek softly.

“I think maybe I can be okay. With you.” She muses. Placing a light kiss to your lips. Making you smile.

“Good cause I’m not going anywhere.”

You don’t know if tomorrow she would go back to drinking. Or if she would get her ass kicked in the pit. But tonight she was safe. And she was with you. And as she fell asleep to your heart beating against her, you couldn’t help but hope it could stay this way. Cause for you. This was enough.

[solxamber]

Love Bites - Floyd Leech x reader

You like him quite a bit, you really do but you're really questioning your decisions after some time spent with him ends up sending you to the ER

Crossposted from my ao3!

Floyd’s sharp-toothed grin stretches wider as you glare down at him, every ounce of annoyance in your body evident as you clutch the bandaged area on your arm. The bruises beneath your sleeve throb dully, and the memory of him sinking his teeth into your skin is still fresh in your mind.

“Are you actually mad at me, Shrimpy?” Floyd's voice is teasing, as though the whole thing is a game to him. He lounges lazily in front of you, as if your anger is nothing more than another source of amusement. “They're just little love bites.”

Your mouth opens, incredulous, but no words come out at first. Instead, you just hold up your arm—complete with the stitches and bruises that have formed there. You watch as Floyd’s mismatched eyes follow the movement, his head tilting slightly as he appraises your injuries like they’re no big deal.

“Little love bites?” you echo, finally managing to find your voice. “Floyd, I have stitches. Actual, real-life stitches.”

Floyd shrugs, still unbothered. “It’s just a few marks,” he says with a lopsided grin, sharp teeth gleaming. “You’re tough, right, Shrimpy? Bet you’re already healing.”

The nonchalance in his tone only fuels your frustration, and you can’t help but huff, crossing your arms over your chest as you glare down at him. It’s always like this with Floyd—he never quite takes anything seriously unless it piques his interest. And apparently, the sight of you with bruises and stitches wasn’t nearly enough to catch his attention.

“Floyd,” you say with as much patience as you can muster, “I’m seriously hurt. You can’t just—”

“Can’t just what?” He cuts in, suddenly standing to his full height. The lazy grin has vanished, replaced with an intensity that sends a shiver down your spine. His mood has shifted in an instant, his presence growing more imposing as he looms over you, eyes narrowing with a hint of danger. “What’s the big deal? You’re my Shrimpy, aren’t you? I can play with you if I want.”

You take a step back, heart racing as his tone changes from playful to something much darker. This is the part of Floyd that everyone warned you about—the sudden switch from laid-back to terrifying. He doesn’t mean to be threatening, not really, but it’s in his nature. And right now, the look in his eyes makes it clear that he doesn’t quite understand why you’re so upset.

He steps closer, tilting his head curiously as if waiting for you to explain yourself. You’re tempted to turn away, but instead, you hold your ground, even as your pulse quickens under his sharp gaze.

“Floyd, I don’t mind you being playful,” you say carefully, keeping your voice as calm as possible. “But there’s a line. This—” you motion to your arm again “—crossed that line.”

For a moment, there’s silence. Floyd’s eyes flicker down to your arm, and something unreadable flashes across his face. His expression softens, just a little, and he sighs deeply before his grin returns, though this time it’s less wild and more subdued.

“Aw, Shrimpy,” he murmurs, stepping back slightly and slouching as if the energy has drained out of him. “You’re so sensitive sometimes. But I get it, I get it. I went too far this time, huh?”

You blink, surprised by the sudden shift in his tone again. He looks at you with a mixture of mild amusement and something almost like regret, though it’s hard to tell with Floyd. His moods are as unpredictable as the sea, and sometimes you can’t be sure if he’s genuinely sorry or just pretending.

Still, you can tell he’s trying. In his own weird, Floyd way, he’s making an effort to understand your feelings—even if he doesn’t fully get it.

“Yeah,” you admit, your voice softening as the tension starts to ease. “You did go too far. I know you like to mess around, but… I’m not a punching bag, Floyd.”

He laughs at that, a light sound that seems to fill the room. “Nah, you’re not a punching bag, Shrimpy. You’re tougher than that. I was just having some fun, but I guess I didn’t realize how squishy humans can be.”

The word “squishy” makes you cringe, but you let it slide. At least he’s acknowledging the situation, even if it’s in his unusual, Floyd way.

Floyd moves closer again, but this time his touch is gentle. He reaches out, fingers brushing over the bandaged area with surprising care. His expression is hard to read, but the teasing smirk has been replaced by something quieter, almost contemplative.

“Does it hurt a lot?” he asks suddenly, his voice uncharacteristically soft.

“A little,” you admit, watching him carefully as his fingers linger near the bruise. “But it’ll heal.”

Floyd hums in acknowledgment, his eyes trained on the wound as if it fascinates him. “You’re pretty tough, Shrimpy. I like that about you.”

You roll your eyes, but there’s a small smile tugging at your lips despite yourself. “Glad to know I’ve earned your approval.”

He grins, sharper now but still playful. “You always have it, Shrimpy. Just don’t go getting too mad at me, okay? I’ll be good next time. Maybe.”

You can’t help but laugh at that—because with Floyd, “next time” will probably end up just like this. But somehow, you don’t mind as much. Floyd’s chaotic nature is part of who he is, and while it can be exhausting, there’s a strange charm to it too. He keeps you on your toes, always guessing, always wondering what mood he’ll be in next.

And right now, as he watches you with a softer gaze than usual, you realize that maybe—just maybe—he’s trying harder than he lets on.

“Just… maybe go easy on the love bites from now on,” you say with a chuckle, nudging him lightly. “I’m running out of bandages.”

Floyd’s grin returns in full force, his eyes gleaming with mischief once again. “No promises, Shrimpy. But I’ll try to keep you in one piece.”

He winks, and despite yourself, you can’t help but feel your heart skip a beat. Floyd may be unpredictable and moody, but there’s something undeniably magnetic about him—and even when he’s frustrating, you find it hard to stay mad for long.

With a final playful nip at your shoulder (thankfully not hard enough to leave any more bruises), Floyd leans back, stretching lazily. “Alright, alright, I’ll be good for now. But next time, Shrimpy, you better watch out.”

You roll your eyes again, but there’s a warmth in your chest that wasn’t there before. Despite everything, Floyd has a way of making you feel special—even if his methods are a little… unconventional.

And as he lounges beside you, his mood now seemingly light and carefree once more, you can’t help but think that maybe, just maybe, you wouldn’t have it any other way.

[reidmarieprentiss]

Good Boy

Summary: Based on this post from @reidsdimples ! Spencer is being a brat, you put him in his place.

Pairing: sub!Spencer Reid x Unit Chief fem!reader

Category: smut (18+)

Warnings/Includes: smut (18+) additional warnings under the cut, bratty Spencer, boss/subordinate relationship, mommy kink

Word count: 5.6k

a/n: for you @lovingreaderfangirl <333 this is basically pure smut ,, don't like it don't read it

main masterlist

Additional warnings: sub!spencer, dom!reader, mommy!kink, handjob, edging (male receiving), overstimulation, unprotected PinV (wrap it before you tap it), oral (fem receiving), choking, slapping, slight nursing

You were the unit chief, and while your relationship with your boyfriend, Spencer, usually stayed out of your work life, today was different. Spencer had made a mistake, and to make things worse, he was acting out—whether it was from embarrassment or just a bad attitude, you weren’t sure, but you weren’t going to tolerate it.

"You will go back to that house and do another sweep," you said firmly, not looking up from the open case file on your desk.

Spencer scoffed, crossing his arms in defiance. "That's ridiculous, Y/N! Morgan’s already there," he snapped, his voice sharp.

Your head shot up at his words, your eyes narrowing in disbelief. "Ridiculous?" you repeated, incredulous. "No, Spencer. What's ridiculous is you missing a massive piece of evidence and then standing here arguing with me about it." Your tone dropped, icy and stern. "You will go back to that house and search it from top to bottom. I don’t care if it takes all night. Am I making myself clear?"

Spencer’s eyes flared with frustration, and he bit back, “So, what, you’re punishing me now?”

The edge in his voice wasn’t something you were used to hearing from your usually sweet, thoughtful Spencer. You stood up, moving around your desk with deliberate steps until you were standing close enough to feel the tension between you.

"Are you talking back to me?" you asked, your voice dangerously low, your authority unmistakable. 

Spencer swallowed, a flicker of uncertainty in his eyes as he realized how serious you were. He wasn’t used to seeing you like this—so angry, so venomous—but even though he was nervous, his stubbornness kept him from backing down just yet. 

Spencer straightened his posture, though his nerves betrayed him, making his hands fidget at his sides. He'd never seen you this mad before—at least, not directed at him—and he wasn’t sure how to handle it. But he felt too deep in this argument to backpedal now.

"I’m not talking back to you," Spencer muttered, though his tone remained defiant. "I’m just saying Morgan’s already there. There’s no reason for me to go too. We’re wasting time!" His voice escalated again, but it wavered slightly, showing the anxiety bubbling under his frustration.

You were having none of it.

“Wasting time? Is that what you think we’re doing here?” you snapped, each word clipped and precise, your gaze locked onto him with an intensity that made him shift uncomfortably. You were so close now that Spencer could see the tension in your jaw, feel the weight of your authority in the room. You weren’t his girlfriend in this moment—you were his boss, and you were demanding respect.

“Spencer,” your voice dropped, quieter but no less dangerous, “I don’t care how you feel about going back to that house. You missed something crucial, and you need to fix it. You messed up, and you know it. So stop acting like a petulant child and do your damn job.”

The words stung, more than he wanted to admit. His shoulders tensed, and he clenched his fists by his sides, but he couldn’t find the right words to argue back. He was embarrassed—not just because of his mistake, but because he knew you were right. But his pride was wounded, and that was hard to swallow.

"I... I just—" he started, but you cut him off sharply.

“No more excuses, Spencer. You will go to that house, and you will make sure every inch of it has been checked. And if I hear another word of backtalk from you, you’ll be off this case completely. Is that understood?"

Spencer’s breath hitched, his defiance slipping further away with each word you threw at him. He could feel the weight of the situation bearing down on him, and for the first time, he realized just how much he had crossed a line. But he was still too stubborn to admit it.

“Yes, Ma’am,” he muttered, his voice barely above a whisper, the edge of sarcasm still lingering, but now laced with a thread of defeat.

You stepped even closer, eyes narrowing as you stared him down. "What was that?"

Spencer swallowed hard, realizing he wasn’t in a position to push any further. “I understand,” he said more clearly, his tone softening. He wanted to reach for you, to find some semblance of the warmth he was used to from you, but he knew better. Right now, you weren’t his to reach for.

Without another word, he turned on his heel and stormed out of the office, leaving behind the tension that lingered like a storm cloud. You stood there for a moment, watching the door swing shut, anger still simmering beneath your skin, but also a twinge of sadness. Spencer had never acted out like that before, and though you knew you had to be stern, it hurt to see him so distant and defiant.

But this was work. Personal feelings would have to wait.

—

However, there was a time and place for personal feelings to come to the surface, and that time was now—in the privacy of your shared apartment with Spencer.

You had gotten home first. Spencer was still out, likely combing through the crime scene after you’d sent him back to fix his earlier mistake. Frustrated by the lingering tension between you two, you huffed your way through your evening routine. You made dinner, though you knew Spencer would probably be too upset to eat when he got home. He could have the leftovers later. After that, you showered and curled up in bed with a book, waiting for him to return.

When Spencer finally came home, his anger was palpable. He slammed the front door behind him, muttering under his breath as he left a trail of clothes through the hallway on his way to the shower. The bathroom door slammed shut as well, echoing through the apartment. You sighed and rolled your eyes—if Spencer thought his attitude would go unaddressed, he was mistaken. He was in for a real punishment tonight.

After what felt like forever, Spencer emerged from the bathroom, his hair damp and towel wrapped loosely around his waist. At least he had the sense to show a hint of submission, you thought.

Without looking up from your book, your voice calm and controlled, you gave your command. "Kneel."

Spencer froze, taken aback by the sudden authority in your tone. He turned his head, his confusion evident. "What?"

You set your book down slowly and fixed him with a steady gaze. "Did you not hear me? Or are you talking back again?" There was a warning in your voice, a promise that you weren’t playing games tonight. "I really don’t want to make your punishment worse, baby."

Spencer hesitated for a brief moment, the weight of the situation settling in, knowing you were in complete control now. He lowered his gaze, the tension between you thick, as he finally obeyed, dropping to his knees.

You stood up from the bed, your movements deliberate as you slowly circled around Spencer, letting your eyes roam over him with a quiet intensity. The soft sound of your bare feet against the floor was the only thing breaking the silence as you took in his posture—tense, but submissive, waiting for what was coming next. 

When you stopped in front of him, you reached down and tilted his chin up with a single finger, forcing him to meet your gaze. His eyes were defiant, even now. You smiled, but it didn’t reach your eyes.

"You know you’re in trouble, right, baby?" you asked, your voice sweet but laced with warning.

Spencer didn’t respond right away; instead, he narrowed his eyes at you, his lips pressed into a thin line, as if testing how far he could push. Without hesitation, you slapped his face lightly, the quick sting enough to make him let out a soft whimper. His eyes widened in surprise, but he still held his ground.

Roughly, you grabbed his cheeks in one hand, squeezing his face so he had no choice but to focus on you. "I asked you a question, brat."

“Yes, Mommy," he mumbled, his voice small and obedient now, the fight in him fading. "I know I’m in trouble."

"Hmm, good," you said, releasing his face with a satisfied hum. You began pacing around him again, like a predator stalking its prey, before stopping just behind him, leaning close enough that your breath tickled his ear. "And why are you in trouble, smart boy?"

Spencer swallowed hard, his throat bobbing. "Because I argued with you. I was disrespectful. I–I acted like a brat."

A smirk tugged at the corner of your lips. "That’s right." You stood up straight again, looking down at him. "And now, you're going to make it up to me, aren’t you?"

Spencer nodded, his face falling into a sad expression, clearly regretting how he had acted earlier. He was always your good boy, and he knew that punishment was rare because he hardly ever misbehaved. The realization of how far he'd pushed you today weighed on him, leaving him feeling small and upset.

"Why are you pouting, baby?" you asked, your tone softening just a touch as you stood in front of him, looking down at his bowed head.

Spencer shrugged, his eyes fixed on the floor, unable to meet your gaze. He shifted uncomfortably, his hands fidgeting slightly in his lap, but still, he said nothing.

"Words, Spencer," you reminded him firmly. "Speak up."

He hesitated for a moment before finally looking up at you, his eyes filled with guilt. "I hate that I disappointed you," he admitted, his voice barely a whisper. "I don’t like being punished… you never have to do this. I’m supposed to be your good boy."

You felt a flicker of sympathy for him, knowing how much he valued pleasing you, but you held firm. "Yes, you are supposed to be my good boy," you agreed, leaning down slightly so that your eyes were level with his. "But today, you weren’t. Today, you acted like a bad boy, and now, you have to accept the consequences."

Spencer bit his lip, nodding again, the weight of his actions settling in further. "I know… I’m sorry."

You placed a gentle hand on his cheek, stroking it softly for just a moment before pulling back. "Thank you for apologizing. But you still need to learn."

“Stand up. Don’t keep the towel,” you ordered, your voice cold and almost bored, leaving no room for hesitation. Spencer flinched at the command, the sharp tone slicing through the air as he scrambled to comply. The towel slipped from his body, falling to the floor as he stood there, bare and vulnerable.

“Get on the bed,” you continued, moving with a quiet precision as you retrieved something from the dresser, your back turned to him. “Hands above your head.”

Spencer couldn’t see what you were holding, and that only added to his nervousness. He climbed onto the bed, his heart racing, and stretched his arms above his head, just as you instructed. 

When you finally turned back toward him, he caught sight of the ties and lube in your hands, and his body reacted instantly—a slight twitch of excitement mixed with fear. His breath quickened, but his eyes never left yours. He hated the feeling of being restrained, of not being able to touch you, to feel you close. But there was something intoxicating about the power dynamic, about giving himself over to you completely.

You approached him slowly, deliberately, the ties dangling from your fingers like a silent promise of what was to come. Without saying a word, you moved to the head of the bed, taking his wrists gently but firmly and securing them to the bedposts. Spencer’s chest rose and fell rapidly as the ties tightened around his wrists, his muscles straining, already longing to break free.

His eyes searched yours, desperate for any hint of softness, but he found none. You were in control, and he knew it.

"Mommy," Spencer whimpered softly, his voice barely above a whisper, full of need and desperation.

You glanced down at him, your gaze calm and measured. "Yes, baby?"

His eyes flickered with longing as he whined, "I want to touch you."

A sigh escaped your lips, and you leaned down slightly, your fingers brushing lightly along his arm, teasing but not giving him what he wanted. "I want that too, my love," you murmured, your voice laced with a touch of sympathy, though your expression remained stern. "But I can't give you a reward quite yet."

"Yet?" Spencer perked up, excitement sparking in his eyes, the word like a glimmer of hope he clung to.

You smirked at his eagerness, trailing your hand down his chest in a feather-light touch, just enough to make him squirm. "Yet," you confirmed. "But you'll have to earn it, baby. That means no whining, no more attitude. Understand?"

Spencer nodded eagerly, his eyes wide with anticipation, but you could see the struggle in him—how hard it was for him to hold back, to stay restrained when all he wanted was to feel you. "I’ll be good," he promised, his voice shaky. "Please, I’ll be good."

You smiled, your fingers trailing lower. "We'll see, baby. We'll see."

Spencer squirmed involuntarily as your fingers teased his stomach, his muscles tensing beneath your touch. "Keep still, Spence," you instructed, your voice firm but calm, watching as he took deep, shaky breaths in an attempt to regain control over his body.

His wide eyes followed your every move as you reached for the bottle of lube on the bedside table, and he watched, anticipation building, as you squirted some of its contents into your hand. The cool sensation made his breath hitch the moment your hand wrapped around him, his back arching off the bed instinctively.

Without missing a beat, you placed your other hand on his hips, pressing him back down into the mattress. "Spencer, be good," you warned, your tone leaving no room for disobedience.

His body trembled, caught between the overwhelming sensation and the need to obey you. "I’m trying," he whispered, his voice strained as he fought to stay still, his knuckles turning white as he gripped the ties. His chest heaved, desperate to be good for you, but the pleasure was intoxicating, testing his restraint.

You smirked, knowing exactly how far you could push him. "Good boy," you murmured, your hand moving slowly, deliberately, keeping his hips pinned down as he tried not to writhe beneath you, every muscle in his body begging for release, but you weren’t done with him yet. Not even close.

After almost an hour of torture, Spencer was doing everything in his power to follow your rules, his body taut with tension as he tried to stay still beneath your touch. His breath came in ragged gasps, his wrists pulling at the ties as he strained not to buck his hips against you. But you were making it so hard for him—each time your hand changed pace, it sent him spiraling, his mind spinning out of control. You could feel his body tightening, every muscle coiling as he teetered on the edge.

And just when you knew he was close, so close, you let go.

A desperate sound tore from his throat, half whine, half groan, as you pulled your hand away, denying him the release he so desperately craved. His eyes were wide, his chest heaving as he looked up at you, practically begging for mercy.

"Please," he whimpered, his voice cracking under the weight of his desperation. "Please, I want—"

You shushed him gently, running your hand down his chest in a soothing gesture. "Spencer," you said softly but firmly, your eyes locking onto his. "What did I say about being good?"

"I-I’m trying," he gasped, his voice shaky as he fought to hold on. "I’m really trying."

You could see him unraveling, his mind quickly losing grip on any sense of control. And that was exactly where you wanted him.

"Then keep trying, baby," you whispered, leaning down to press a soft kiss to his chest. "You’ll get what you want when I’m ready to give it to you. Not a moment before."

You sped your hand up, focusing all your attention on the sensitive tip, moving with quick, intense strokes. Spencer's body reacted immediately, his back arching violently off the bed as a scream tore from his chest.

"Mommy! Please!" His voice cracked, high and desperate, tears beginning to stream from his eyes as he lost all composure. "I’m going to come!"

But instead of granting him mercy, you snapped sharply, "No!" The command echoed in the room, and Spencer flinched at your tone. "If you come," you warned, your eyes dark and unwavering, "I’m not stopping."

His breath hitched, and his sobs grew more frantic. He fought to control himself, but the sensation was overwhelming, his mind teetering on the brink of bliss and despair. The threat of what would come if he disobeyed hung heavy in the air, fueling his panic as he tried, with every ounce of strength, to hold back the release his body so desperately craved.

"Please," Spencer sobbed, his tears mixing with the sweat on his face as his entire body trembled beneath your relentless touch. "I-I can’t… I can’t hold on…"

"Yes, you can," you whispered, your voice soft but commanding as you leaned closer. "You will, or you’ll regret it, baby. Be good for me."

He choked out a whimper, his muscles straining, teetering on the edge of breaking as your hand continued its torturous rhythm, and every nerve in his body screamed for release. But you were in control, and Spencer knew there would be no relief until you decided. 

You pressed your palm firmly against the sensitive tip, rubbing harsh circles that sent shockwaves through Spencer’s body. He couldn't hold it any longer—a guttural scream tore from his throat as his orgasm ripped through him, his release spilling across his stomach in hot, frantic bursts.

But there was no mercy in your eyes as you watched him unravel beneath you.

"Oh… bad boy, baby," you tutted softly, your voice laced with both disappointment and a dark edge of amusement. Without missing a beat, you gripped him tightly, continuing your mean, relentless rhythm even as his body spasmed from the intensity.

Spencer writhed beneath you, his sobs louder now as the overstimulation set in, his body too sensitive to handle the unyielding pace of your hand. "Please, please!" he begged, his voice hoarse, his tears mixing with the sweat on his face. "I-I can’t—please stop, I’m sorry!"

But you only leaned in closer, your hand maintaining its punishing rhythm. "I told you, baby," you whispered, your breath hot against his ear, "if you came, I wouldn’t stop. And bad boys don’t get to decide when it’s over."

Spencer whimpered helplessly, his entire body shaking as he endured the overwhelming sensations, unable to escape the torment of your touch. The line between pleasure and pain had long since blurred, leaving him at your mercy. And you weren't done with him yet. 

You suddenly let go of Spencer, pulling your hand away from him. For a brief moment, he thought the torture had finally ended, and he took deep, strained breaths, his chest heaving as tears continued to spill from his eyes. 

"Thank you, Mommy," he whispered, his voice barely audible as he sighed in relief, closing his eyes as if he could finally rest.

But just as he began to relax, his eyes shot open, wide with shock, as he felt you sinking down on top of him, your body enveloping him in an overwhelming rush of sensation. The overstimulation hit him like a bolt of electricity, and his body reacted instantly, thrashing beneath you in a desperate attempt to escape the intensity.

"Mommy!" he cried out, his voice ragged and broken as his body twisted under yours. His muscles tensed, his movements frantic, but there was no escape.

"Shut up," you seethed, your voice low and dangerous as you wrapped your hand around his throat, tightening your grip just enough to still him. His breath hitched, and his panicked eyes met yours. "I’m in charge," you reminded him, the weight of your authority pressing down on him as surely as your body did.

Spencer whimpered beneath your grip, his mind a haze of overstimulation and helplessness, but he knew better than to argue with you. His resistance faded as he realized you weren’t done with him yet—not until you decided.

"Tell me, baby," you panted, your body moving rhythmically as you rode Spencer, chasing your own release with relentless intensity. Every roll of your hips drove him deeper into overstimulation, but you were in control, and you weren’t letting up. "How does it feel?"

Spencer sniffled, his voice shaky and tear-filled. "S-so good, Mommy," he stammered, struggling to hold himself together as his body continued to tremble beneath you.

You laughed, the sound sharp and mean as you continued, "Thought you couldn’t take it." There was a mocking edge to your voice as you rode him harder, the sensation overwhelming his senses. "Were you lying?"

"No!" Spencer cried, his voice breaking as he clung to the edge of his composure. "It—it hurts, Mommy, but I like it!"

"Yes, yes, you do," you taunted, your tone dripping with satisfaction as you gazed down at him, your pathetic, brainless boy. "You like it when Mommy uses you, don’t you?"

"Yes!" he nearly screamed, his body shaking uncontrollably, caught between pain and pleasure. "Please! Just want to be good for you," he sobbed, his desperation palpable as he surrendered completely to your control.

You leaned forward, your lips brushing against his ear as you whispered, "Then be good, baby, and take everything I give you." Your body continued to grind down on him, mercilessly chasing your own release, pushing him further past the point of no return.

By the time you reached your release, Spencer was a wreck beneath you, his body trembling as sobs wracked his chest. He cried out in desperation as your muscles tightened around him, sending him further into an abyss of overstimulation. Each second felt like an eternity for him, trapped between the aching pleasure and the need to obey you.

Just when he thought relief was finally coming, you lifted yourself off of him, hovering just above him, denying him that final push he needed. Spencer’s whine was pitiful, filled with frustration and longing. "Mommy! Please!" he whimpered, his voice cracking as tears continued to stream down his face.

"Please what?" you asked, your tone deliberately condescending as you leaned back, watching him squirm beneath you. "Use your words, dumb baby."

Spencer swallowed hard, his body twitching with anticipation, his mind too clouded to do anything but beg. "Please let me come," he sobbed, his voice raw and desperate. "Please, Mommy."

You smirked, your eyes dark with amusement as you leaned forward just enough to tease him with the possibility of what he wanted. "Hmm… okay, baby," you said, your voice dripping with false sweetness. "But you’re cleaning it up after."

Spencer twitched at your words, his entire body lighting up with excitement at the promise. The thought of finally getting the release he so desperately needed was enough to make him shiver. "Yes, Mommy," he gasped, nodding eagerly as his breath hitched in anticipation, his mind already surrendering completely to your control.

You lowered yourself back down onto Spencer, and his loud, desperate moan filled the room as he watched you take him in again, the sight alone enough to push him closer to the edge. His body was trembling, every nerve on fire as you rode him hard and fast, the intensity of your movements leaving him powerless to do anything but submit. 

His hands tugged against the restraints, his eyes squeezed shut, and with a strangled cry, he found his release, his body jerking as he filled you up. The sensation of you pinching and tugging at his nipples sent him over the edge, his cries growing louder as his body finally gave in completely.

You slowed your pace, riding out the last of his climax, before finally relaxing on top of him, your breath steadying. Spencer lay beneath you, panting and exhausted, his chest heaving as he came down from the overwhelming high.

With a soft sigh, you pulled off him, moving up his body with a deliberate slowness, positioning yourself directly over his face. You looked down at him, your fingers gently brushing through his hair as you smiled wickedly. "Ready to clean up your mess, baby?"

Spencer’s eyes widened, his mouth already watering at the thought, and he nodded eagerly, his voice breathless and submissive. "Yes, Mommy, please," he whispered, his eyes full of adoration as he awaited your command, ready to obey, to please, and to make up for every bit of his earlier defiance.

You lowered yourself onto Spencer's waiting mouth, threading your fingers through his hair as you settled into a steady rhythm, guiding his movements with gentle yet firm pressure. His tongue worked eagerly, desperate to please you, to clean up every bit of the mess he'd made.

“Oh, Spence,” you sighed, your head falling back slightly as you rode his face, each stroke of his tongue sending waves of pleasure through your body. "Your mouth is so good, baby."

Spencer whimpered in response, his efforts growing more determined with every sound of approval that escaped your lips. You could feel the way he was trying so hard to be good for you, to make you proud, and it only fueled your desire to push him further.

"Making Mommy so proud," you praised, your voice laced with satisfaction as you tugged gently at his hair, controlling his pace. His tongue flicked faster, more desperate to hear those words again, and you couldn't help the soft moans escaping you as you continued to ride his face, letting the sensation build.

With each passing second, Spencer's mouth worked harder, your praise driving him to do anything for you. His whimpers were muffled by your body, but the eagerness in his touch and the way he responded to your every command made it clear—he was willing to do anything to make you proud.

You continued to ride Spencer’s face, your fingers tightening in his hair as you guided him, making sure he stayed exactly where you needed him. His tongue flicked and swirled in all the right places, and the sounds of your pleasure spurred him on, his hands instinctively tugging against the restraints as he longed to touch you, to feel your body against his.

"That’s it, baby," you breathed, your voice a mix of praise and moans as you pressed down harder, your body shivering from the sensations he was creating. "You’re making Mommy feel so good."

Spencer whimpered beneath you, the vibrations of his muffled cries only adding to your pleasure as you ground down onto him, riding his mouth with a newfound urgency. Your hips moved faster, chasing the climax that was building inside you, each stroke of his tongue sending you closer to the edge.

"You like this, don’t you?" you asked, your voice breathless but firm. "You like being my toy, Spence?"

His desperate whimpers were the only answer you needed. You tugged harder at his hair, pulling his face closer, your pace quickening as the pleasure began to overwhelm you. Spencer’s tongue moved in perfect rhythm with your hips, eager to push you to your peak.

As the tension built, you gasped, your body trembling as you felt yourself nearing the brink. "I’m so proud of you, baby," you whispered, your voice strained as you rode out the waves of pleasure. "So proud…"

With a final, desperate grind against his mouth, the climax washed over you, your body convulsing as you cried out, the release crashing through you in waves. Spencer didn't stop, his tongue continuing to work, not wanting you to take away his favorite treat. 

His mouth and tongue continued their relentless work, his eagerness only spurring you on as your cries grew louder. "Oh! Good boy!" you gasped, the praise slipping from your lips as your hips thrust faster against his mouth, riding the wave of pleasure that was building once again.

"You like tasting yourself?" you panted, your breath coming in short, sharp bursts as your body moved with a desperate rhythm. Spencer moaned beneath you, his muffled response sending vibrations through your core, and it only drove you to push harder against him.

"Like it coming out of me?" you taunted, your voice strained and full of need as you felt his tongue lapping eagerly at the mess you had made together. The idea of him cleaning up his own release, desperate to please you, sent shivers down your spine, adding to the already overwhelming sensation.

Spencer whimpered beneath you, his body reacting to your words even as he remained restrained, helpless to do anything but obey. The combination of your command, the praise, and the undeniable power you held over him had him lost in submission, and you could feel the tension building in both of you again.

"Such a good boy," you praised, your voice trembling with the intensity of your pleasure. "So good at doing exactly what Mommy needs." You rode him harder, your body nearing its limit once more as Spencer's tongue worked tirelessly beneath you.

The room was filled with the sounds of your panting breaths, your moans mixing with Spencer's muffled noises as he continued to drive you closer to the edge. Your body trembled uncontrollably, your hips grinding down faster, chasing that final release.

With a breathless cry, your third climax crashed through you, your entire body quivering as Spencer’s tongue carried you over the edge once again. You moaned his name, gripping his hair tightly as you rode out the waves of pleasure, not slowing until every last bit of satisfaction had pulsed through you.

You pulled yourself off of Spencer, and immediately he let out a whine, his lips pouting in protest, not wanting you to take his favorite treat away, he could eat you out for hours. His neediness tugged at your heart, and you couldn’t help but smile as you gently stroked his hair.

"Baby, Mommy is sensitive," you said softly, your voice filled with affection. 

Spencer pouted even more, his eyes big and round as he mumbled, "I just wanna make you feel good."

"You did make me feel so good, baby," you reassured him, your smile widening as you saw his face light up, the joy radiating from his eyes.

"Am I your good boy again?" he asked, his voice tinged with hope and a bit of that endearing vulnerability that always made you melt.

Your heart softened instantly, and you leaned down, cupping his face in your hands as you pressed a tender kiss to his lips. "You’re always my good boy," you whispered against his mouth. "I love you so much."

"I love you too, Mommy," he murmured, his voice thick with emotion, eyes full of adoration.

After you untied him, you took your time massaging his arms and wrists, soothing the slight redness left behind by the ties. You helped him into the shower with you, gently guiding him as he leaned heavily against you, still needing your care. The warm water cascaded over both of you as you softly washed his body, your touches gentle and nurturing. Spencer rested his head against your shoulder, completely relying on your strength, his exhaustion clear as he sighed softly, content in your embrace.

Once you were both dried off and dressed for bed, you brought him back to the comfort of your bed, where you massaged lotion into his arms, making sure he felt taken care of. Your lips peppered soft kisses over his skin as you worked, your voice a soothing murmur as you whispered how good he was, how proud you were of him.

"You’re so good, Spencer," you murmured between kisses. "Always my good boy."

Spencer sighed, his body fully relaxed now as he basked in your affection, letting your words and touch wash over him like a warm blanket. His eyes fluttered closed, a small smile playing on his lips as you continued to kiss and praise him, reminding him of just how much he meant to you.

“Mommy…” Spencer’s voice was soft, hesitant, as he lay beside you, his head resting on your chest.

“Mhm?” you murmured back, feeling the weight of tiredness pulling at you, though still present enough to listen to him.

“Can I suck…?” His voice trailed off, filled with uncertainty.

You giggled softly, a wave of affection washing over you for your needy little baby. "Of course, Spence," you murmured, lifting your shirt to give him the comfort he craved.

Without hesitation, Spencer nestled his head underneath, latching onto your breast with a soft sigh. His body relaxed against yours, and you could feel the tension melt away as he suckled gently, his breathing becoming slow and steady.

You stroked his hair lovingly, the intimate moment between you quiet and peaceful. “You’re such a good boy,” you whispered softly, letting him find the comfort he needed as you both slowly drifted off to sleep, his head resting safely against your chest.

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[drewsarms]

𓊆ྀི❤︎𓊇ྀི A little of the writing was inspired by this post!! For my baby @shawtycoreee !!! I hope you guys enjoy! Send me some asks too!!

𐙚: hick!rafe x toots!reader get into a fight and make up

𐙚 : warnings: violence (fighting), angst, use of “daddy” , faux fucking, 18+ mdni !!

From the moment you woke up you were ready to get on your man’s last nerve. To be fair he wasn’t paying a lot of attention to you lately. Going out with his friends. Coming home drunk. Not listening to when you’re yapping about god knows what. It’s not that you didn’t trust him or had concerns of if he didn’t love you. He was a sweetheart to you in every way possible. You got to see a side of him that no one else did. But something was off and you had to know what the problem was.

Rafe was working late tonight. By the time he got home you’d usually be in bed but tonight was different. You wanted to let him know just how much he pissed you off. When he pulls up in the driveway he was surprised to see all the lights still on. He hurried inside to see if anything was wrong.

“Baby, uh, you there?” Nothing. He walks further into the house and sees you sitting on the kitchen counter. “You didn’t hear me come in Toots?” You didn’t answer him. You knew just how to piss Rafe off and that was not answering his questions. He drops his bags and walks towards you. “You know I don’t like that shit. I asked you a question goddammit.” He points a finger in your face. You look away. He puts his finger on your chin and you push him away. “You know what fuck this shit.” You jump off the kitchen counter following him around the corner. “Where the hell are you going?” You say throwing your arms up in the air. Your voice starts breaking. “To fucking relax. I can’t deal with this shit right now.” Tears start to form in your eyes. To think that he didn’t even want to talk this through hurted you even more. “What shit are you referring to? Since we’re on the subject I can’t deal with your shit anymore either.” He turns around and raises an eyebrow. “Hey! You better watch your fucking tone little girl. I am not in the fucking mood.” He says walking towards you. Backing you against the wall. “I don’t give a fuck what mood you’re in. You’re pissing me off and I want to talk to you about it.” Rafe rolls his eyes at you and starts to walk away. “I really can’t fucking do this.” He mumbles. He walks to the kitchen to grab a beer and you follow right behind him. He’d be damned to think that this conversation was over. He brings the beer up to his lips and before he can take a sip you snatch it throwing it against the wall making a mess. “You’re such a fucking dick!” When you turn away you can hear him unbuckling his belt. It made you even more pissed if he thought sex was going to be the answer to the argument. You were caught by surprise when you felt the cool leather snap hard against your ass making you jump. Before you could turn around Rafe grabs you by your neck. His mustache tickling your ear. “You’re gonna fucking regret that.”

Rafe throws you on the bed. You can’t admit you’re a little scared. Not because you made him mad (that’s something you’re used to) but because he’s not eagerly trying to fuck some sense into you. “Get that cute ass up in the air.” In an instant you listen. He chuckles at your eagerness. He runs the cool metal of his belt buckle against your ass making you shiver. Five more harsh slaps from the belt hitting your ass filled the room. You try to apologize but all that’s coming out is whimpers and sniffles. “Quit that fucking crying Toots. Don’t act so sorry now.” A feeling of emptiness comes from behind you. You don’t feel Rafe. You start to wiggle your ass out of neediness. “D-daddy?” you say through cute little cries. You feel his jeans press against your panties. His hard cock feels like it could break through the material. He grabs your hips and starts fucking into you. He was teasing you and you hated it. “Wanna show daddy how sorry you are?” You whine as you start to twerk against his clothed dick. He slaps your already sore ass making you gasp. “Daddy please fuck me! Please!” You look back at him and he has this sinister look in his eyes. His once bright blue eyes turning dark. It turned you on and scared you. “Uh uh I thought I was such a dick shug?” He looks down at you backing your ass up against his dick. “Doesn’t seem like it’s a bad thing now does it? Not with the way you’re shaking your ass against me.” After what felt like hours of torture you finally heard him unbuckle his belt. “Get those fucking panties off.” You eagerly reach back and yank them off spreading your legs even more so he can have a perfect view and easy access to your pussy. You can feel him line his self up with your entrance. Rubbing at your leaking, sensitive clit. You start to kick your feet in protest. Desperately trying to push his cock in your pussy by backing up against him. “Daddy! I’m sorry please I won’t act up again! Just please fuck me-“ Your little fit turned into moans as he pushed himself all the way inside of you. Every time he fucked you his dick felt bigger and bigger. “I don’t want to hear your whining and shit ever again. When I come home I want you to be my good little girl. You don’t ask me questions. You don’t get mad if I’m at work all day. You got that?” You nod your head in agreement. The pleasure becoming too much for you to speak. He pulls out and starts rubbing your clit. “I asked you a question angel.” You look back at him with teary eyes. You reach for his face giving him the most desperate and sloppy kiss. A string of spit connecting your swollen lips together. “Yes daddy! I understand! I’ll be your good girl!!” He gives you a sweet kiss to your forehead before sticking his cock back in and filling up your sweet cunt.

━━⊱⋆⊰━━

As the two of you layed in bed together he realized he never got an answer out of you. “Baby you awake?” he asks in a whisper. “Barley,” you managed to say in your sleepy voice. “I guess I did fuck you good then.” The both of you laugh. “But uh, nah you-you never told me what the problem was.” You sigh as you sit up to look at him. Tears start to form into your eyes. “I never complain because I know you do so much for me. I hate to seem so ungrateful but sometimes you don’t listen to me. Sometimes I never get to see you. I just love you so much and I don’t want to loose you.” You can hear Rafe sniffle. He sits up now holding you in his arms. “Toots. I can’t promise you everything in the world but what I can promise you is that I am never leaving. I’m sorry for the way I’ve been acting. I need you beside me. You’re all I have. I’d be a goddamn fool to ever let you leave. I love you more than you’ll ever know. Tell what I need to do to make it up to you.” You look up at him. Your tears still flowing because he’s never really this vulnerable. “Mmm, $300 dollars every week?!” The two of you laugh as he pushes your head back into the pillow, laying back down next to you. He kisses your temple. “You got it sugar.”

Taglist: @fae-of-prey @bunnyrafe @starkeysprincess @drewstarkeys-world @drewspinkbunny @venic-bxtch @nemesyaaa @justafangirls-blog @rafecameroninterlude

[hannahluvsbillie]

was it ever casual?

part 1

✮ pairing : billie eilish x reader

✮ cw: nothing too heavy, angst (kind of)

ᡣ𐭩 a/n: sorry for the wait!! my tumblr hasn’t been letting me post anything! but we’re here now and that’s all that matters. thank you sm for all the love on part one, it means everything to hear you like my writing 🥺🥺

the rain pitter patters on the window of billie’s car, it was pitch black with the exception of a few small streetlights in the empty parking lot.

it was damn near silent in the car, only the sounds of soft music playing were heard.

at least it was, until you got a notification.

you pick up your phone from the console, seeing a text from some random person you gave your number to at a party last week because he wouldn’t stop bugging you.

“hey, wanna meet up soon? still in la for the week.”

the text read.

billie’s eyes glance over at your phone, out of your peripheral vision you see her brows furrow at the message.

your eyes dart to billie, and you immediately put your phone down. not wanting her to see the message.

this just makes her brows furrow further, and her face contort a little.

“who’s that?” she asks, her voice stern. the hand that was once on your thigh moves back to her own, silently telling you she’s suspicious.

“don’t worry about it.” you say, glancing over at her and putting your phone under your thigh. you didn’t intent to mock her statement from the last meet up you had, but it just came out.

these past few times you’ve hung out with her, you’ve been noticing the abundance of notifications she gets while you’re together. you try to comfort yourself by saying it’s just her friends, or her family blowing up her phone. but you know, you know it’s other girls.

“im worried about it, who else is talking to my girl?” she states, the smallest hint of playfulness in her voice.

“my girl.” the nickname always seemed to find its way into her words while she was with you, but the once meaningful nickname that used to give you butterflies has lost meaning. how many other girls does she call “my girl” ?

you look away, you find yourself feeling annoyed at her words. she does the same shit to you, so why should she be mad about it?

“it’s not like we’re dating.” you say, glancing over at her only to see her brows raised at your comment. you were never this feisty with her, what did she do?

she moves her head just enough to look into your eyes, her brows still raised in surprise. “yeah, we aren’t. but i wanna know if my girl’s talking to someone else.” she says coldly.

your brows raise, matching her expression. you shake your head in disbelief, how could she be so dismissive?

“billie, you do the same fucking thing.” you say, your voice seems to have lost that soft, sweet, gentle tone it regularly has when you speak to billie.

“that’s- that’s different ma.” she says, feeling like she’d just been called out on her bullshit.

you shake your head once again, your hands fiddle with themselves in your lap.

“how is that any different? they blow up your phone constantly and when i ask you about it you brush me off.” you say softly, turning your head to meet her gaze.

she rolls her eyes at your response, starting to get agitated with you.

“because you’re my girl y/n. no one else’s.” she says, her eyes shooting darts into yours.

that doesn’t sound very causal, but to hell with causal at this point.

“i wish i could say that about you billie.” you say, shooting her a glare.

“oh my god- baby. we’ve been through this a million times. they don’t mean anything to me.” she says, her voice starting to get more cold by the second. how could she just lie to you like that?

you turn to face her, you can’t hold back anymore.

“bullshit.” you say coldly, her eyebrows raise in response.

“if i meant anything to you i wouldn’t be sitting in your car at 1 in the morning- let alone letting you eat me out in your car, or only meeting with you in secluded places, or the fact you won’t text me back for a week. it’s like im only here when your bored.” you ramble, finally letting your feelings spill out. it felt nice to call her out, even though you knew she wouldn’t tell the truth.

“baby- y/n- you know damn well it’s not like that.” she says, looking at you with furrowed brows.

in all honesty, billie didn’t know you felt like that. so what she’d talk to other girls, you were still the one she saw the most.

“so what is it then?” you ask sharply, furrowing your brows at her. you had to swallow the lump that was forming in your throat.

she looks away, trying to think of a way to possibly answer that question.

“we’re just- a casual thing y/n, don’t act like it’s more then that because it’s not.” she says coldly, her response shooting daggers into your heart.

a moment of silence falls between billie and you, neither of you knew what to say, or what was the right thing to do.

but you knew one thing, you couldn’t keep doing this with her. if that’s how she really feels, then you two aren’t on the same page.

it’s not causal when you look at her like she hung the damn stars every time she speaks.

“just- take me home billie.” you say, looking into her eyes. you were so tired of begging for her to choose you. it’s all that you’ve done is beg for her attention this whole- situationship. or whatever the fuck you wanted to call it.

she scoffed in disbelief, shaking her head. her hand went down to the shift and put the car into drive.

“god damn it- fine.”

[silhouetteonpaper]

Pessimism and Pancakes

Summary: When you wake up feeling off, your girlfriend knows exactly what you need—and she won’t give up easily. Wanda Maximoff x Reader WC: 1,046 Warnings/Themes: Angst to fluff :)

Your alarm blares the same obnoxious sound that drills into your head every morning. Quickly reaching to stop the noise, you tuck yourself back under the heavy pile of blankets in a tired haze. With an exasperated sigh, you turn your head to glance at the time. 7:00 am, the same time you wake up every single day.

But this morning is different, like a thick fog has settled over your body, trapping you from doing anything. You’re supposed to train with Wanda like you do every morning, but something in you makes you slowly close your eyes instead. Maybe a few more hours of sleep would cure this hazy feeling.

It feels like barely any time has passed when there’s a knock on your bedroom door. Whoever’s there pauses before walking in, the door closing behind them. You’re too far under the covers to see who it is, let alone care who’s there.

“Are you awake?” A Sokovian accent fills your ears, immediately alerting you to the woman standing next to your bed. None other than Wanda, here to see why you weren’t in the training room. You only groan in response, still half asleep. “Why are you still in bed?” She asks.

A part of you prepares for her to be mad, but the other half still couldn’t care less. Now blinking away the remaining sleepiness, you can’t help but feel fatigued in your awakened state. You simply ignore her, hoping she’ll just go away if you don’t move a muscle. But the bed dips, and you can tell she’s sitting right beside you.

“Are you alright?” Wanda asks, reaching for the top of the blankets. She attempts to pull them down, but finds you tightly holding them above your head. Not only was missing training unlike you, but hiding like this was even more out of character.

“I’m fine.” You voice, the sound muffled. Wanda doesn’t buy it though, trying to pry the blankets down once more. The frustration in you grows, wanting nothing more than to be left alone right now. You feel off kilter—even while laying down, like your mind is unwilling to think without every single thought falling into a hopeless dark depth.

“I said I’m fine Wanda!” You snap, your head popping above the sheets as you pull them tightly to your chest, snatching them from her arms. She raises her eyebrows in surprise, slightly caught off guard by your behavior. You’re never this short with anyone.

“What’s going on? First you miss training, and now this?” She questions, her expression filling with concern. At first she was assuming you missed your alarm, or maybe wanted to sleep in after a long day yesterday, but your actions now prove otherwise.

“Sorry that I don’t want to do the same thing every day. Next time I want to live in a time loop I’ll call Strange.” You jab, huffing as you turn your back to Wanda completely. She pauses for a moment, exhaling as she thinks. You can tell she’s playing with her rings, she always does when she breathes like that.

Maybe a part of you feels bad about how you’re acting, but you don’t have enough energy to care right now. After a minute of sitting in silence, you feel Wanda stand. It isn’t until the bedroom door clicks shut that you know she’s gone.

You inhale deeply, hoping a regulating breath of air will calm this growing pit in your stomach. It doesn’t. It’s not like you have a high-stakes mission coming up, or even a stressful meeting. The feeling just sits inside you and nothing seems to shake it.

The ever-growing pessimistic thoughts pause as you hear the door swing open once more, this time without a knock beforehand. “Alright, I’ve got pancakes with all your favorite toppings. Time to sit up!” Wanda exclaims, placing something on the nightstand before yanking the pillows out from under you.

You groan, but ultimately listen as you know she won’t relent. Wanda sets up the pillows behind you as you lean against the headboard. She presents a tray full of fluffy pancakes, embellished with everything you usually put on them. “Wanda-“ You start, only to get interrupted.

“Nope, don’t talk to me until you’ve eaten. I know how you get when you don’t eat.” She smiles, sitting back down on the side of the bed. You shake your head, attempting to hide the smile on your face as you begin to eat.

“I’m sorry.” You voice through mouthfuls of her delicious home-made recipe. The guilt inside you grows after your bout of frustration directed at Wanda, and here she is making you food in return. She chuckles, shaking her head.

“You don’t need to be sorry, it’s okay to have an off day.” Wanda replies with a shrug. An off day, the kind of thing normal people have after a long week of work or a chaotic night prior. You’re anything from normal, living here in the Avengers Compound. But that doesn’t mean you can’t have a rest day every now and again.

There’s been a handful of days when you’ve had to drag yourself out of bed, yet still you carry on with your day like usual. Something about today is different, though. Even though you feel compelled to leave your bed and get on with things, something inside you just physically… can’t.

“What are you thinking about?” The abnormal amount of time you’re stuck staring at your plate leaves Wanda curious. You snap back to reality, putting your fork down.

“I don’t know, I haven’t felt like this before. I just feel really… shitty.” You shrug, looking at Wanda like she has all the answers.

“That’s alright, we don’t have to train today. We don’t have to do anything today, if you don’t want to. All I ask is that you communicate to me where you’re at, so I know how to help you.” She offers with a warm expression. Now it’s your turn to smile at her, nodding as you continue eating your delicious breakfast.

“Thank you,” You add while finishing your last few bites of fluffy pancake. “Could we watch those sitcoms you like?

Wanda grins, “I can’t think of anything I’d rather do.”

[theuntoldstorythatneedsawriter]

Less 📱☕️

Alexia Russo x reader

warning : fluffy 💭💗

summary :

You meet your online girlfriend "Less", only to discover she's secretly Alessia Russo, the famous footballer.

You sat in the café, sipping your drink, glancing nervously at the clock. Today was the day you were finally meeting her, the girl you had been talking to for months. She went by the name "Less" online, and you had hit it off from the start. It felt like you could talk to her about anything, and she had this charm that was impossible to resist.

But there was one thing that always nagged at you: Less never sent many personal photos. Sure, you had seen a few selfies here and there, but they were always casual, nothing overly revealing of her life. She claimed to be a private person, which you respected. After all, she made you feel safe enough to open up, and that was all that mattered, right?

You stared out the window, lost in thought when you heard the café door open. You turned instinctively, and your heart nearly stopped. Walking in was someone you never expected to see in a place like this.

Alessia Russo

You recognized her immediately. She was one of the brightest stars in women’s football, and you had seen her play countless times. But what was she doing here?

Before you could process the situation, she looked right at you, her eyes lighting up. She smiled, a smile you knew all too well. Your heart skipped a beat, confusion flooding your mind as Alessia Russo, the Alessia Russo, made her way toward your table.

“Y/N?” she asked softly, her voice familiar yet completely shocking.

You blinked, struggling to connect the dots. “Less?”

She grinned sheepishly, her hands stuffed into her jacket pockets. “Surprise.”

You sat there, speechless, your brain trying to catch up with what was happening. Less, the girl you had been talking to for months, your online girlfriend, the one who you thought was just a regular person, was Alessia Russo, one of the biggest football stars in the world.

“I... I don’t understand,” you stammered, your thoughts a jumbled mess. “You’re... you’re Alessia Russo?”

She shifted on her feet, a hint of nervousness in her expression. “Yeah, I know. I should’ve told you sooner, but I didn’t want you to see me as... well, as ‘Alessia Russo the footballer,’ you know? I wanted you to get to know me.”

You stared at her, still processing the fact that the Alessia Russo was standing in front of you, the girl you’d grown close to, the one you’d shared so many personal moments with. And now, she was telling you she had been hiding this huge part of her life.

“I wanted to meet you like this, in person, so I could explain,” Alessia continued, sitting down across from you. “I’ve never done this before. I didn’t want my job or my career to change the way we talked.”

You could see the sincerity in her eyes, and it was hard to stay mad if you were even mad at all. Mostly, you were just shocked.

“So, all this time, you were hiding this?” you asked quietly, trying to make sense of it.

She nodded, biting her lip. “Yeah. It wasn’t because I didn’t trust you, I just didn’t want it to affect the way you saw me. I love football, but I wanted you to get to know Alessia, not ‘Russo.’”

You sat there, staring down at your coffee, feeling a mixture of emotions. It was hard to be angry, because in a way, you understood. Being Alessia Russo meant she had the world’s eyes on her. She didn’t get to live like a normal person most of the time, and she probably feared that once people knew who she was, everything changed.

“I get it, I think,” you said after a long pause. “It’s just... a lot to process. I didn’t think I’d be meeting a famous footballer today.”

Alessia chuckled softly, looking relieved that you weren’t storming off. “I’m still the same person you’ve been talking to for months, though. I still care about you the same way, and nothing’s changed in that department.”

You met her eyes, despite the shock, this was still the girl you had fallen for. The person who had made you laugh on long nights, who had listened when you needed to vent, who had shared parts of herself with you. That hadn’t changed.

“So... you’re not just some random girl who likes football,” you said, a small smirk tugging at your lips.

She laughed, her shoulders relaxing. “Yeah, I guess not. I was going to tell you. I just wasn’t sure how.”

You leaned back in your chair, still processing everything but feeling a lot less overwhelmed. “It’s a bit crazy, but I guess I can’t be mad. You’re still my Less.”

Alessia’s smile grew wider, the tension finally easing between you two. “Exactly. And I’m really glad you came today. I’ve been wanting to see you in person for so long.”

Despite the whirlwind of emotions, you couldn’t help but smile back. “I’ve been wanting to see you too. Even if you did leave out one tiny detail.”

She laughed, looking at you with that soft, affectionate gaze you had come to know through your video calls. “I’ll make it up to you, I promise.”

You shook your head, feeling the tension drain from your shoulders. “You better. But... I think I can forgive you, Alessia or should I still call you Less?”

“Call me Less” she said, reaching across the table to take your hand.

You squeezed her hand, feeling the warmth of her touch, and smiled softly.

[jellybelly-may]

❝𝐓𝐨𝐤𝐑𝐞𝐯 𝐒𝐢𝐛𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 𝐇𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐜𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐧𝐬!❞

Kawata Twins (with a younger sibling!) [platonic!]

"gah! stop it nahoya! souya help me!!"

cw: smiley being smiley

✧˖°.✧˖°.✧˖°.✧˖°.✧˖°.✧˖°.✧˖°.✧˖°.✧˖°.

General Hcs:

If you think the Haitani’s were protective

Think again

The twins will need to know your whereabouts, locations, or heck even escort to wherever you wanna go

As the youngest sibling, you’re the precious baby sibling of the Kawata twins, and they take their role seriously

always on high alert when it comes to your safety

calls you “Squirt” because you’re the youngest and smallest

The twins will play harmless pranks on you like switching places to see if you can tell them apart

You’ve gotten so good at recognizing the subtle differences that you can always tell who’s who, much to their frustration and to your delight

ofc there’s always some sibling rivalry between the three of you

video games, racing bikes, or even who can eat the most ramen 

You name it, you’ve done it

movie nights! the three of you have a tradition of watching movies together on weekends

Smiley always picks action movies, Angry prefers emotional dramas, and you’re stuck in the middle, trying to find a compromise

In the end, you usually end up watching a mix, with lots of popcorn and commentary from Smiley and loud yips from your pet dog pomeranian (check smiley’s official character book about the dog)

Matching accessories!!!

The three of you have matching bracelets that Smiley insisted on getting.

it’s a silent reminder that your brothers are always with you, even when they’re not physically around

✧˖°.✧˖°.✧˖°.✧˖°.✧˖°.✧˖°.✧˖°.✧˖°.✧˖°.

Nahoya/ Smiley 😆

teasing galore from this a-hole

loves to tease you endlessly, especially about your height or how you look up to him (literally and figuratively)

despite his constant teasing, you know it’s all in good fun

if someone else tries to tease you, he’s the first to step in

definitely has a soft spot for his siblings

shows it through his protective actions, like checking in on you more often than needed

probably forces you to learn how to ride a motorcycle “in case of emergency!” he says :D 

laughs at you when you stall the bike 

also probably teaches you how to fight 

“for fun!” :D 

✧˖°.✧˖°.✧˖°.✧˖°.✧˖°.✧˖°.✧˖°.✧˖°.✧˖°.

Souya/ Angry 😡

the one to patch you up! surprisingly good at it too!

when nahoya is teasing you, souya tries to defend you

but ends up getting teased as well

like nahoya, souya is protective of you too

he may not be most talkative compare to his brother

angry quietly leaves snacks or small gifts in your room when you’re feeling down

or he will silently sit with until you feel better 

souya’s has a knack for fooling people too!

especially you 

“who ate my ramen? :c ”

“probably ‘hoya, saw him going through the pantry >:c ”

with his serious expression, you always fall for it 

until you notice his minor gesture he does when he lies

asshole

don’t be mad though! he buys back more snacks for you to replace the ‘missing’ food

✧˖°.✧˖°.✧˖°.✧˖°.✧˖°.✧˖°.✧˖°.✧˖°.✧˖°.

Bonus scene:

Movie nights at the Kawata household were always...lively.

The three (more like two) are in full-on bickering mode as you all scramble to prepare snacks and argue over what to watch. In the middle of it all, PomPom, your family's Pomeranian sits on the couch, tilting its head in curiosity at the chaos unfolding around it.

Nahoya grins widely, holding up two action DVD's.

“C’mon, let’s just watch something exciting! This one’s got explosions!” He waves the DVDs at you and Souya, clearly excited.

“I mean, who doesn’t like a good explosion?”

You roll your eyes while searching through the pantry for snacks.

“Yeah, 'hoya, but we’ve seen that one, like, five times already! Besides, it’s my turn to choose, and I want to watch something funny.”

Nahoya groaned at your response.

Souya softly mutters while carefully pouring popcorn into a bowl.

“Anything but horror, please. I won’t be able to sleep for a week…”

Nahoya laughs and ruffles his twin's hair. “Afraid of ghosts, huh? Fine, no horror.”

He pauses, looking at you with a mischievous grin. “But we’re still watching something action-packed. No arguments!”

Grabbing a bag of chips, you narrow your eyes at Nahoya.

“Who made you the boss of movie night?! I’m picking comedy! PomPom agrees with me, right?”

You glance at the small Pomeranian, who simply yips energetically from the couch, clearly excited but having no idea what’s going on.

With a rare smile, Souya offered PomPom a piece of popcorn. "PomPom’s vote doesn’t count. Besides, I’d rather watch something calm, not too loud.”

Nahoya snatches the remote with his trademark grin. “Too bad! Action it is—majority rules!”

He gestures dramatically toward PomPom. “Me and PomPom, we’re a team!”

You chased after him. “Not fair! PomPom just wants snacks!”

Souya sat on the couch with PomPom by his side, his expression serious but soft.

“How 'bout this? Action-comedy. No explosions, just funny fights.”

The peach-haired boy pouts slightly but shrugs. “Fine, fine, I’ll allow it. As long as there’s a little action.”

You grinned and tossed a chip at Nahoya.

“Deal! Let’s finally settle on something before PomPom falls asleep waiting.” With a truce in place, the three of you settle on the couch with snacks in hand.

The movie starts rolling and for once, the chaos subsides as you all enjoy the night, occasionally laughing or teasing each other during the best scenes. PomPom snuggles into a blanket, letting out a content sigh, clearly the happiest with the arrangement.

[earthtoharlow]

Don’t Like The Lights

Sequel to Flashing Lights series, must read Flashing Lights first to understand

Series Masterlist

16. March 14th

It was late and Maryse was exhausted, lying in bed next to Jack. She shifted under the covers and looked over at him before sighing, seeing him sleeping peacefully. The twins had been particularly active that night, kicking and moving making it hard to get in a comfortable position. At this point she was going to sign them up at Mockingbird Valley as soon as they were born. 

She rubbed her belly, feeling another kick, but this time something was different. A sharp pain shot through her abdomen, taking her breath away. At first, she thought it was just the babies being active again, but as the pain grew stronger, she realized this wasn’t just kicking..

Maryse reached for Jack, who was still snoring next to her. “Babe…Jack…I think it’s happening,” she said as she started shaking him awake.

Jack sat up immediately, now wide awake. “What? You aren’t due for another few weeks!” 

Tears welled up in her eyes as the pain intensified. “I know…it’s too early.” She whispered loudly, starting to panic. “It’s too soon, they’re not ready!”

Jack quickly got out of the bed, throwing on sweat sweatpants and a hoodie. Reaching for the hospital bag they had prepared weeks ago. “Hey, it’s okay. Let’s just get you to the hospital.” 

Tears rolled down Maryse’s cheeks as she shook her head. “But what if something goes wrong? I’m not ready, I’m—”

“We got this,” Jack interrupted, his voice firm but gentle. “You’re strong, and our babies are going to be just fine. You’ve been carrying them for months, and they’re ready to meet us.”

She nodded weakly, still scared, but his words settled some of the fear bubbling inside her. “Okay,” she whispered, letting him help her toward the car.

With a reassuring squeeze of her hand, Jack said, “Let’s go meet our babies.”

As they sped through the dark streets, the hospital still a few miles away, Jack kept one hand on the wheel and the other resting gently on Maryse’s thigh. She was gripping her belly, her breathing controlled but strained as another contraction came and went. The tension in the car was intense and Jack wanted to lighten it up. 

With a slight grin, he glanced over at her, his voice playful. “You know… if we time this right, they’ll probably end up being born the day after me.” His birthday was a few short hours ago as it was now past midnight. 

Maryse, between deep breaths, shot him a tired but amused look. “You seriously think you’re that lucky?” 

He chuckled, turning his attention back to the road for a second before looking at her again. “Hey, I’m just saying… twins love a grand entrance. They want their own day but close enough to remind everyone who their dad is.”

Her eyes fluttered shut as she braced through another contraction, and for a moment, he thought maybe his light-hearted joke wasn’t working. But as the pain lessened, she turned to him with a small smirk. “Let’s just hope they’re not as dramatic as their dad.”

He laughed softly, the sound a brief comfort in the intensity of the moment. “I don’t know about that. If they’ve got even half of your fire, we’re in for it.”

When they finally arrived, the doctors confirmed that she was indeed in labor but only three centimeters dilated. “You’ve got some hours to go,” the nurse with a sympathetic smile, helping her adjust the bed for comfort.

As Maryse tried to focus on her breathing, Jack sat beside her, tapping his fingers on the bedside table. At first, it was a soft rhythm, something to distract himself from the nerves, but it soon became obvious he was making a beat out of the rhythm of her breathing.

Maryse clenched her jaw, exhaling sharply. “If you don’t stop tapping,” she said through gritted teeth, “I’m going to get really mad.”

Jack froze mid-tap, eyes wide, then sheepishly pulled his hand away from the table. “Sorry, just trying to help,” he muttered, a crooked grin forming.

She shot him a look but then sighed, leaning back into her pillows. “Maybe help by not turning my labor into a mixtape.”

“Noted,” he said, settling back, a little quieter but still grinning.

In between contractions, Maryse looked up at Jack with a weak smile. “I’m hungry,” she whispered, her voice laced with exhaustion. “Can you get me something?”

Jack, eager to help, nodded quickly. “I got you,” he said, rushing out of the room.

A few minutes later, he returned, his arms overflowing with snacks—chips, candy, granola bars, a banana, even a couple of drinks. “I, uh… I wasn’t sure what you could have, so I just grabbed everything,” he admitted sheepishly, holding up the pile.

Maryse blinked at the assortment, then gave a small laugh despite the situation. “I can’t eat half of that, but I appreciate the effort.”

“Which one can you eat?” Jack asked, looking a little lost.

She pointed to the banana and granola bar. “Those will do. Thanks, baby.”

He handed them over, still looking concerned. “I’ll eat the rest,” he joked, trying to lighten the mood, but his eyes stayed glued to her, watching her every move with worry as she nibbled at the food between breaths.

“You should probably call your parents… and mine,” she said, in between bites

Jack hesitated, not wanting to leave her side for even a second, but nodded. “Okay, I’ll call them. But I’m not going far.”

Maryse squeezed his hand, appreciating his presence. “I know. Just… tell them it’s happening.”

Before Jack walked out the room Maryse stopped him. “Hey, babe?”

Jack turned around, “I love you, and so happy to be on this journey with you.”

She could see him getting emotional, Jack walked back and pressed a long kiss to her forehead, and then to her lips. “I love you more.”

“Yuck.” Maryse says with a grin before pushing him away. “Now, go call our parents and Urban so you can relax a bit.” 

He kissed her forehead softly before stepping aside, pulling out his phone. “Hey, Mrs, Monet” he began quietly, trying to keep his voice calm, though the excitement and worry were palpable. “Sorry, Margot… It’s time. We’re at the hospital… yeah, for real this time.”

As he made the calls, Maryse breathed deeply, bracing herself for the next contraction. Knowing their families would be there soon brought her a bit of comfort. Even though things were happening faster than expected, she felt better with Jack by her side and their loved ones on the way.

Jack came back into the room after stepping out to make the call, his face slightly flushed from rushing back to her side. He took a seat next to Maryse, gently lifting her hand again.

“I just got off the phone with your parents,” he said, his voice calm. “They’re taking the next flight out from New York, but they probably won’t make it before the babies are born.”

Maryse let out a soft sigh, her face showing a mix of disappointment and anxiety. “I was hoping they’d be here in time.”

“I know, baby, but my mom and dad are on their way. They’ll be here soon,” he reassured her, squeezing her hand. “My mom’s gonna bring all the calm energy you need.”

She forced a smile through the pain, “Good. I need that right now.”

Jack leaned in and kissed her temple, his thumb gently rubbing her palm. “You’re doing amazing. Just a little longer, and we’ll have them here.”

She nodded, trying to focus on his words instead of the contractions. “You’re staying with me the whole time, right?”

“Of course. I’m not leaving your side,” he promised, his eyes steady on hers.

Maryse smiled and gave him a tired look, wincing as another contraction rolled through.

“Hey, Urban just got here. He’s in the waiting room.”

“Good. Maybe he can take some of your nervous energy because it’s making me nervous too.”

Jack chuckled, trying to play it cool but knowing she could read him better than anyone. “I’m not that nervous.”

She raised an eyebrow and let out a small huff, “Babe, I can see you tapping your foot like you’re working on a beat, again!”

He looked down, noticing his foot bouncing anxiously, and sheepishly smiled. “Alright, maybe I’m a little worked up.”

“Go tell him to come in here,” Maryse added, squeezing his hand, “Maybe he can calm you down.”

Jack nodded, standing up. “I’ll bring him in,” he said, giving her hand one last reassuring squeeze before heading out to get his friend.

When Maryse saw Urban walk in, holding his film camera with a mischievous grin, she narrowed her eyes at him. “You really brought a camera in here?”

Urban shrugged, still grinning. “Gotta document the moment, right?”

She let out a low groan as another contraction hit, her face scrunching up in pain. “I’m in way too much pain to yell at you right now… but trust me, I’ll make up for it later.”

Urban chuckled, holding up the camera defensively. “Hey, I’m just capturing memories.”

“I better appreciate these photos when this is all over,” she muttered, shifting uncomfortably as the pain intensified. “Because I swear, if I look like a mess in them, you’re gonna regret it.”

Jack chuckled, rubbing her back. “You’ll look amazing—“

Maryse gave him a tired side-eye. “Whatever.” But deep down, she knew she’d treasure the moments Urban was capturing.

Just as another wave of pain hit, Jack’s parents finally arrived. Maggie swept into the room, her eyes immediately going to Maryse, taking in her exhaustion. She wasted no time.

“You two,” she pointed at Jack and Urban, “go get some coffee. I can tell you’ve been getting on her nerves.”

Jack blinked in disbelief. “I haven’t! I’ve been—”

Maryse shot him a look, eyebrow raised. He fell silent, his argument dying before it began.

Maggie gave him a knowing smile. “Mmhmm. Go on. We’ll keep her company for a bit.”

Urban snickered, nudging Jack as they reluctantly headed for the door. “Told you she’d notice.”

Jack grumbled, glancing back at Maryse as she waved him off, already more relaxed with his mom by her side. “Yeah, yeah. We won’t be long,” he muttered, trying to salvage a little pride.

Maryse just smirked, leaning into his mom’s comforting presence as they left the room.

Maggie turned to Maryse with a gentle smile. “How are you doing, sweetheart? Feeling okay? I really hope he’s not driving you too crazy in here.”

She let out a tired chuckle, her body relaxing a bit now that the room was quieter. “Honestly, he’s been doing great. He’s just… really nervous, and it’s kind of rubbing off on me. But he’s been sweet.”

She nodded, her eyes soft with understanding. “He gets that way when he cares a lot. I’m so happy for you two. This is such an exciting time.”

Maryse smiled, her eyes tearing up a little. “Thanks… I can’t believe this is actually happening.”

His mom leaned over, squeezing her hand. “You’re going to be amazing parents. Both of you.”

That reassurance settled something in Maryse, the warmth of it wrapping around her like a blanket.

A few minutes later, Jack popped his head back into the room, grinning like a kid caught sneaking candy. “Can I come back in now? I miss you,” he said, eyes soft as they landed on Maryse.

She rolled her eyes, trying to suppress a smile. “You’re so cheesy,” she muttered, but the warmth in her voice gave her away. No matter how much she pretended to be annoyed, that sweetness was exactly what she needed right now.

His mom laughed, patting his shoulder as she passed him on her way out. “Alright, you two, I’ll let you have your moment.”

Jack quickly walked over to her bedside, leaning down to kiss her forehead. “I can’t help it,” he said softly. “I love you.”

Maryse rolled her eyes again, but this time, she smiled wide. “Ew. You really do.”

Before he could respond, her face scrunched in discomfort. She gripped Jack’s hand tightly, her voice shaking. “Get the doctor or nurse, please,” she urged, barely able to keep her breath steady.

Jack’s eyes widened with concern as he quickly stood up, rushing to the door and calling for help. A nurse hurried in within moments, checking Maryse over before nodding. “It’s time. You’re ready to push.”

Panic mixed with excitement flashed across Jack’s face as the room suddenly buzzed with activity. The nurses quickly started prepping everything while another handed him a set of scrubs. “We need to get you into these now,” she instructed.

Jack fumbled with the clothes, his hands shaking as he tried to put them on. He glanced back at Maryse, who was focused on breathing through the pain. He could tell she was terrified, but there was no time to dwell on that now. He had to be there for her.

“You got this, baby,” he called out, though his own nerves were showing. He finally got dressed and rushed back to her side, ready to hold her hand through what was about to happen.

Maryse gave him a tired but determined look. “You better be right here the whole time,” she said between breaths.

“I’m not going anywhere,” he promised, squeezing her hand as the doctor arrived.

The doctor stood at the foot of the bed, ready for the arrival of their twins. “Alright, Mrs. Harlow, it’s time to push. Give me a big one,” the doctor said, voice calm yet firm.

Maryse didn’t even register being called “Mrs. Harlow,” too focused on the overwhelming pressure and pain. Her entire body trembled as she braced herself, gripping Jack’s hand so tightly that he winced, but he didn’t dare complain.

“You’re doing amazing, babe,” Jack encouraged, his voice soft but steady. “Just breathe. I’m right here. You’ve got this.”

With a final push, their son was born. His tiny cry pierced the air almost immediately, bringing both of them to tears. “It’s a boy!” the doctor announced, but before they could fully process it, the doctor encouraged her to push again. “One more, you’re doing great!”

But before she could catch her breath, the next contraction hit, signaling it was time for their second baby. “You’re almost there,” Jack reassured her. “One more. You can do this.”

She bore down, pushing with all her strength. Sweat beaded on her forehead, and the room seemed to fade around her, everything focusing on the task at hand. She groaned with the effort, her face contorting in pain, but she didn’t stop. The sound of the doctor’s calm instructions blended with Jack’s reassuring words, both keeping her going.

Jack leaned in, kissing the side of her forehead, his heart racing as much as hers. “Just a little more, baby, you’re almost done.”

Maryse screamed as she gave one last push, The doctor held her up, but the room fell into an eerie silence—she didn't cry

Her heart dropped. She looked over at Jack, panic in her eyes, and she squeezed his hand even tighter. “Why isn’t she crying? What’s wrong?”

Jack’s face paled, his eyes glued to their baby. “Come on, baby girl,” he whispered under his breath, his voice trembling. “Come on.”

The seconds felt like hours. The nurses quickly began rubbing her back, gently stimulating her, and finally, after what felt like an eternity, the sweetest sound filled the room—a tiny, soft cry.

Both Maryse and Jack let out a breath they didn’t realize they were holding, tears streaming down their faces. “She’s okay,” the doctor reassured them, “Sometimes it just takes them a minute.”

Jack’s legs almost gave out from the relief as he leaned over to kiss Maryse's forehead. “She’s okay,” he whispered, voice cracking. “They’re both okay.”

Once the nurses had cleaned the babies, they gently placed one in each of their arms. Maryse cradled the first twin, their son, while Jack held their daughter, his face lit with awe. The room was quieter now, the cries subsiding into soft coos, and the nurses hovered nearby, curious as they asked the question.

“So, what are their names?” one nurse asked, a smile on her face.

Maryse looked up at Jack, her heart swelling. This was the moment they’d talked about, dreamed about. She shifted her gaze back down to the tiny face in her arms, brushing a finger softly across her son’s cheek.

“Noah Thomas,” she said softly, pride and emotion lacing her voice.

Jack smiled, glancing down at their daughter, who was already settling in his arms like she knew she belonged there. “And this little one is London Paige,” he added, his voice full of warmth.

The nurses beamed. “Beautiful names,” one of them said, making a note on the clipboard.

As they looked down at their children, Maryse and Jack exchanged a glance, both overwhelmed by the love and responsibility that had just entered their lives. Noah, with his tiny features that mirrored Maryse, and London, with her resemblance to Jack, made the moment feel even more surreal.

“They’re perfect,” Jack whispered, leaning in to kiss Maryse's forehead again, unable to tear his eyes away from their babies.

Maryse smiled tiredly. “Yeah, they really are.”

The nurses gently took Noah and London to the adjoining station to check their vitals, Jack turned his full attention to Maryse. He leaned closer, cupping her face in his hands, brushing his lips against her forehead, her cheeks, and finally planting soft kisses all over her face.

“I’m so happy right now,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper. “You did amazing, babe. I can’t believe we just brought two beautiful babies into the world.”

Maryse laughed lightly, still feeling a mixture of exhaustion and exhilaration. “I couldn’t have done it without you,” she replied, her eyes sparkling with tears of happiness. “You were right there with me the whole time.”

Jack nodded, his eyes shining. “And I wouldn’t have wanted to be anywhere else. You’re incredible.” He paused, watching her with a tenderness that made her heart swell.

“I can’t believe we’re parents now.”

“Right? We are really doing this,” he replied, grinning ear to ear, his voice filled with excitement.

Just then, the nurses returned with the twins, both of them sleeping peacefully in their tiny blankets. “They’re doing great!” one of the nurses announced, beaming at the new parents. “Everything looks perfect.”

Jack’s eyes lit up as they approached, and he turned back to Maryse. “Look at them,” he said, pride swelling in his chest. “We made those little miracles.”

Maryse couldn’t help but smile as she watched him fall into that instant connection with their children. “They’re our world now,” she said softly.

She leaned back against the hospital pillow, she couldn’t help but smile at Jack, who stood by the bassinet, completely mesmerized by the tiny babies they had just brought into the world. She watched him, his eyes wide and full of love, and felt a warmth spread through her chest. All the pain and stress they had just endured felt like a distant memory. Before the exhaustion pulled her under, her mind wandered back to the whirlwind of the past year.

From the dizzying heights of success with her music career to the unexpected news of her pregnancy, it had all felt like a beautiful, chaotic dream. 

Their late-night talks, the way he made her laugh when she was feeling down, and the countless times he had gently reminded her of her strength—it all played like a montage in her mind. The stalker incident, the Super Bowl performance, and the challenges of preparing for two little ones felt like a lifetime ago. Yet here they were, parents of two, ready to take on whatever came next.

She glanced at Jack again, who was still transfixed by the babies, his expression a mix of awe and pride. That sight filled her with warmth, and as her eyelids grew heavier, she felt a sense of gratitude wash over her. They had fought through it all together, and now, with their family finally complete, she knew they could handle anything.

***

AN: EVERYONE SCREAMMMMMM!!! Noah & London are hereeeeee ;) a day after Jack's of course poor maryse haha please let me know what you think and if you like their names 🫶

Tag List

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[fashionteahouse]

out of your league - paul lahote x reader

People kind of feared him. People knew of his hot headed ways. But you, minded your own business. Sure you’ve seen him around school, whenever he did decide to come. But you would be lying if you said you didn’t have a small crush on him.

The first time he spoke to you, he came into school late. You only shared one class together, history. He asked you for the answers for a worksheet that the class had to do. You let him copy. You just didn’t want any problems. Plus, he never really bothered you.

You would see him around the neighborhood sometimes too. Mostly playing basketball in the court by the park.

One day, you decided to take your freshly bought book, Scott Pilgrim, with you to the park. You liked to sit on the swings or the benches to feel the refreshing air.

Next to the park was the court, and there he was, playing basketball with his friends. You also recognized your friend’s, Kim, crush, Jared, on the opposition team playing against Paul.

They were already sweating and the tension was thick. The game was a was good game. The grunts and scuffle of the tennis shoes hitting the black pavement filled the air.

You decided the swing and opened your book to what you left off on. You loved this book because of the adventure aspect. You sometimes would playfully think about how it would be like if your boyfriend fought seven of your ex boyfriends to win your love. You liked how you didn’t have any ex boyfriend to begin with. That’s what made the story fun.

You hear a grunt that snaps you out of fantasy land. It was faint, which made you turn your head to its direction.

A faint view of Paul grabbing the ball that went over the fence. The ball rolled and Paul was fuming because his team was starting to fuck up. He ran back and him seeing you made you realize you were staring at him the entire time, watching him. He looks away and enters in resuming his game with such determination.

You didn’t know how you felt about that interaction but you liked how you didn’t know just yet. You got up and talk towards the benches instead. You open your book and forgot which page to resume from since you didn’t notice to save the page when you closed it.

You lazily read through trying to pay attention to what’s going on in the book but your mind wanted to know whether or not Paul wins his game.

“Who cares about his stupid game.” you thought to yourself.

With such shame, you pull out your phone and began surfing the net since you’ve gotten a bit bored. You didn’t want to just skim through a book you knew you wanted to appreciate.

Sounds of guys shouting made you look over and see a group of guys jump up and bump each other. But it was in a celebratory fashion. A bunch of “let’s gooo” and “yeahs” were uttered from their throats.

You only saw Paul shake his head with disproval but the guys were trying to pass it off as he’s being overreactive. Even trying to cheer him up but he already made distance between the group. They go another way with the game forgotten and you didn’t know Paul was close until he sat at another bench. Looking completely exhausted.

You tried your best to pretend like he wasn’t there. Maybe if you stayed still, he wouldn’t look your way. You didn’t know why you felt nervous.

“What’s the point in bringing a book to a park if you’re not gonna use it.” he spoke.

Your head pops up and he’s just sitting there staring at you, expecting your answer.

You just shrug and furrow your eyebrows just a bit. He snorts, “Could’ve just went to the library. How were you gonna get peace here?”

“I don’t know. It was peaceful. And then it wasn’t.” You said blankly.

“The game definitely wasn’t. You should know that.”

So he did notice you watching him. You kinda felt embarrassed but you didn’t want to sweat in front of his presence deciding to keep your cool.

A nervous chuckle helps you think of an answer ,”Yeah. You were pretty mad that you were losing. Did you win?”

He shrugs and stares plainly. “What do you think?”

You look at the sky, deciding what to do next.

You just pick up your book and go to the swings. You came here to read a book. Those plans weren’t going to change just because someone interrupted.

You retry your mission of getting sucked into the book’s plot and the swing’s chains are now being twisted from your purposeful turning.

“Scott Pilgrim? My cousin showed me that movie.” Paul announced and flops on the other swing.

“Oh yeah?” you reply politely and he nods once to confirm. You nod in thought and go back to your book while the storyline of the book is still fresh in your brain.

You turned the swing into a direction to where you now face your back towards him. The wind swirls, drifting your hair a bit but not overwhelming.

“Where are you going to college?” he asks you.

“Not going to one.”

“Why?” he asks.

“I have everything I need here.” It was true. You didn’t like to brag about yourself, but you had an online job that let you work, while you focused on your art. College will always be there. Right now, you were focused on having fun with your craft without the academic cloud hovering.

“The hell could be here in Washington?” he asks perplexed.

You burst out a chuckle. “You would be surprised.”

“If I could get out, I could.” He says in a playful tone.

“You should if that’s what you want.” You suggest. You were a strong believer of freewill.

“If only it were easy.”

You didn’t know what to say to that. So you opted to saying nothing. You decided to slowly unwind the chains and decide to go. The atmosphere changed. It wasn’t as fresh as it was when you first came. The scenery started to get old for that day.

You stand up and walk in confidence, with your destination in mind, to the beach. There was still hours to the day. Maybe the walk will help you get into the groove of reading again.

“Where you going?” He asked.

“Just… heading out.” You tell him.

“Alright, let me walk with you.”

You awkwardly continue to walk but he’s walking without hesitation as if he knows where you’re going.

That’s how you two sat on a log. You two just watched the waves as if you two were trying to figure something out.

“You want to know what’s crazy?” He asks softly.

“What?” you continue.

“I’ve never talked to you before but you’re nice to be around.” he meant.

You just blink. “Thank..you?” You didn’t mean to make it sound like a question and look at him.

He tears his eyes away from the waves in front of him and meet you halfway with sight.

“No, I’m serious.”

You nod and look at the waves some more.

“It is getting dark soon. I walked further than I was supposed to so I’m going to head back.” You announce.

He is standing instantly and narrows in on you. “We can hang at my place. Plus, I’ll drive you home.”

You look up with a quizzical smile and say, “Hang out? What would we do? We have nothing in common.”

He just shrugs and starts walking in the direction that would be his house. Not looking back to see if you’re coming or not.

You decide to join him. You get to get a ride home.

The walk is surprisingly quick. You try to have a uninterested look on your face. You never judged someone’s house, even if it looked different than your own.

“You want me to take my shoes off?” you ask.

He flicks him arm, letting you know to don’t worry about it.

You follow to his room and you were surprised. He had an interesting room to look at.

“You play chess?” you ask surprised.

“I play a lot of games. You trying to play?”

You sit on the edge of his bed and he sets up the pieces where they’re supposed to go.

He was in charge of the white pieces on the board.

Playing against him was different the people you’ve played. Usually, people slipped up or would sloppily sacrifice their piece just for the sake of winning, but not Paul. It was almost as if he knew which move you were going to make. Even making you on the edge of your seat trying not to let your important pieces get taken.

After he won by checkmate twice in a row and cackled your sore loser attitude.

“Okay, are you still taking me home?” You ask to get him to stop teasing.

“Now you’re ready to go home. Please!”

You just roll your eyes, “I’ve been ready ages ago.”

“Let me use the bathroom.” he says and you gather your belongings and outside of his room was like night and day. Literally. It was so dark out you checked the time to make sure it wasn’t too late.

The car ride was filled with music shuffling.

“You want to pick a song?” He asks.

“Pass. My music taste is all over the place.”

“Just put something on, will ya?” and makes the phone land in your lap.

You play a song called, Out of Your League, cringing a bit because it’s totally random but it was just the song you thought to put on.

As soon as the song was over, your house was now on Paul’s side.

“I appreciate you for the ride.” you politely tell him.

“Yup.”

“Um. Bye.”

“Mm. I don’t like the word bye. Tell me you’ll see me later.”

[lamentationsofalonelypotato]

You Call It Madness But I Call It Love

Chapter 27: Take Me Back To The Beginning

Pairing: Soldier Boy x f!reader, Reader POV

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

Word Count: 13.3K (I tried to cut it down I promise 😭)

Warnings:  I'm gonna label this one 18+ because it's Soldier Boy. Homelander is a freak AGAIN,  A little bit of Oedipal Complex (It's Homelander the man is a walking Greek Tragedy), Graphic depiction of death, Dark thoughts, References to Past Trauma,  Angst, Cursing, Sexual References, Family Problems- A LOT of family problems, Homophobic comment (It's Soldier Boy), Past Trauma, Death Mentioned, Blood mentioned. 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

Main Masterlist

A/n: It's that time y'all! The final battle is finally here! This chapter was a doozy to write, there were so many things that needed to be wrapped up, but I really have loved writing this series and I really like how everything came together.

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

READER POV

The building is just as cold as you remember it, the hallways are silent and empty as if they'd been cleared for this exact moment as the three of you make your way into the depths of Vought Tower.

I wonder if Homelander was the one who did it, or if someone else realized what was coming.

There was an electricity in the air like the coming storm, rolling in front of Ben, Butcher, and you like a dark omen.

Homelander is going to get what is coming to him.

Any remorse you had for him left the moment that he took Lou. There was nothing human to save, nothing left to redeem, the only thing left was the sharpened, cruel creature that Vought created from your own flesh and blood.

And if you were his beginning, you might as well be his end.

Ben was walking beside you, any softness that you'd seen outside the building replaced by the cold calculating mask of Soldier Boy, you knew all too well, but this time you didn't fear his descent into the blaze, you reveled in it. For the first time in years, you were happy to see Soldier Boy again, and this time you knew that Ben was becoming this for you, for Lou, and for Rosemary.

You hoped that this time he wouldn't hold you back from doing what you needed to do as he had earlier. Though he did seem sorry for what happened while the two of you were outside, you weren't sure how eager he was to put it into practice.

Butcher seems to know where he is going, so you fall into step behind him, not concerned as to how Butcher knows exactly where he is headed. He stops outside a massive gilded door across from a rather exhaustive statue of the Seven craved from black marble.

The double doors that lead into the main conference room at Vought Tower are made to look intimidating, but you didn't feel anything but anger and fear. Not fear for yourself, but fear of what Homelander had done to Lou and to Rosemary.

Butcher pushes open the doors with one hand revealing a large room that lacks warmth. The last rays of the setting sun send honeyed light onto the black marble floors, dramatizing Homelander's stoic figure where he stands at the large floor to ceiling wall of windows at the opposite side of the room. His gaze is focused on the city below, like a proud emperor observing his kingdom and everything he owns.

He probably believes he does.

You think to yourself, eyes skating around the edges of the room looking for possible threats, but you don't see any. The wall to your left is lined with monitors and the wall to your right also has some, but instead holds a smaller pair of black double doors.

You didn’t know what kind of tricks Homelander had up his sleeve, but you were preparing yourself for the worst. Of the Seven teammates remaining he was the most formidable. You doubted that the Deep could do anything to you on dry land and you were more than happy to turn him into a tuna roll. You were a little worried about A-Train. He was fast enough to cause a problem, but you didn't know how much. Butcher had told you not to be worried about Hughie's girlfriend Starlight, mentioned that she wouldn’t side with Homelander and that she probably wouldn't be anywhere near Vought Tower. You figured that she'd probably gone to pick up Hughie from the gas station that Butcher had left him at, but you didn't know if she would come take down Homelander.

Honestly you were more worried that she would come for Ben. You'd seen her posts on social media proclaiming Soldier Boy as a terrorist and a villain, which meant that she probably wasn't your biggest fan either. You hoped that she was far away, you didn't want to kill someone who didn't deserve it or rather someone who lashed out against Ben or you because they didn't understand the whole situation.

Butcher also seemed unsure about who would be at Vought, mentioned something in passing about his old team that included the man you'd seen back at Herogasm, but you hadn't seen anyone in the building or sensed that anything unusual was about to happen other than your plan to rip out Homelander's spine and wear it around your neck like a fur boa.

"I remember the first time I stood here." Homelander says without turning around. You could see his pristine reflection in the glass, blonde hair perfectly styled and glowing in the last few wisps of sunlight. "I hadn't seen anything like New York City before, hadn't been around so many people in my entire life." His arms are crossed behind his back, the epitome of control. "They told me it was mine. That this was what I had been bred for my entire life." He glances over his shoulder at you. "I would have been willing to share it with you and dad."

"Where are Lou and Rosemary?" You keep your voice under control.

He ignores you and turns, eyes flicking from Butcher, to Ben, to you. "You are so beautiful. When I imagined what my mother would look like I never imagined someone like you. Maybe I imagined you looking a little more motherly." The feeling of his eyes tracing your figure makes your skin crawl. "But I can see why dad loves you so much. And of course why Noir was obsessed with you."

The mention of Noir makes your blood run cold. How did he know about that? Did Noir tell him?

That was another side of this whole situation that you had considered, you had no idea where Noir was. If he had stayed at the Tower or if he had cut and run when he heard that the rest of his team was being killed one by one. You hoped that it was the first option, trying to hunt him down and find him seemed inconvenient and you'd much rather just settle this now.

"Answer her question." Ben growls, the air around the two of you heating from Ben's newfound powers and the smell of ozone begins to float under your nose. He was trying to hold himself back from stepping in front of you and hiding you behind his body, that much was obvious. You could tell how much he hated how Homelander kept staring at you.

You did too. The guy is creepy enough, does he have to turn this into a Greek Tragedy? Did he see how things ended up for Oedipus?

Homelander only smiles, the same one he had back at Legend's, wide and with too much teeth. The smile of a predator before it catches it's prey, pretty until its teeth latch onto your throat.

He's very confident for someone who has no chance of taking down both of us. Then again, maybe he feels that way because he has the two people in the world who mean everything to me.

You strain your hearing to find Lou and Rosemary, but you can't hear them. There's a low buzz being projected through the building that makes it impossible for you to hear anything else.

Interesting that he's willing to handicap us even if it handicaps him as well.

"Hello William, still standing in my way and feeding them lies about me I see." Homelander tsks his finger as if Butcher is a child.

"Jealous that your dear old dad gets along better with me? Or maybe that your mother doesn't think that I'm as big a twat as you?" Butcher breezes with an easy smile.

Homelander's right eye twitches with Butcher's taunt.

"Sorry mate, does that make you angry? That your parents see me as the son they never had?" Butcher's smile grows.

You take this moment to skate your eyes around the room looking for any evidence of your granddaughter and daughter but you don't see any. Butcher was buying you time, but you didn't know how long it would take for Homelander to be done talking and you were ready to beat the location of your daughter and granddaughter out of him.

"Where are Lou and Rosemary?" Ben shouts again interrupting Butcher. "If you've hurt either of them I swear-"

"Why would I hurt my niece? I'm not a monster. She's fucking four years old." Homelander scoffs.

But hidden in his answer is the possibility that he hurt Rosemary, and it makes your blood run cold.

"We both know that you're capable of that." You respond coldly. "You thought nothing of using her as a human shield earlier."

Homelander presses a hand to his chest as if you've hurt him. "Why mother dearest, how could you say that about your only son?"

"Tell me where they are, and I will consider letting you live." You say without emotion.

Lie.

"There she is." Homelander smirks. "There's the woman I know and love. The one I met at Herogasm had so much ferocity, such rage, and pride. I think you try to hide her behind this. When you act pathetic and human." He gestures to you as if that explains things. "Because you're afraid to embrace it."

"You don't know me-"

"Well. The saying is, like father like son, but-" Homelander's smile doesn't reach his eyes. "The woman I met at Herogasm, she's something special, and exactly like me. Not to mention the woman who killed Stan is just as ferocious, and I'd like to talk to her."

"Keep pissing me off and you're gonna do a little more than talk to her."

Homelander chuckles. "Don't tease me." He has the audacity to wink.

"Don't you fucking look at her that way you sick fuck." Ben growls.

"Why? Aren't pretty things made to be worshipped?" His smirk grows. "And if I had someone like her I sure would worship her."

Ben lunges forward, to wipe the smirk off his face, but when you reach out and grab his arm, he stops. When he turns to look at you he looks like he's ready to snap Homelander in half, a fire blazing behind his eyes that you're not sure if it's because you held him back or because he's upset over what Homelander said.

With your eyes you try to say:

"You can rip him apart after he tells us where Lou and Rosemary are."

You're not sure Ben gets it, but he doesn't advance so you assume he got some form of that.

Deep down you were worried that Homelander had already handed them over to Vought or to the government for some kind of deal. It was an all consuming fear, because yes you would fight tooth and nail to get them back, but it wouldn't be easy if you had to fight the United States government to do it.

"Ashley." Homelander says, but when no one appears he roars the name again, with so much ferocity that it echoes off the walls of the round room, vibrating against the monitors, and into the hallway behind you.

A red-haired woman appears at the black double doors on the right side of the room, looking frazzled and pale. There are pieces of her hair stuck to her fashionable black pantsuit in clumps and she's wearing a pair of crimson heels that clack loudly against the marble floors. She's got a death grip on her phone so tight that you can hear the tension of her tendons in her hand.

You remember seeing her before in the background of an interview on t.v., but never paid much attention to her. Ben looks as confused as you do at her appearance, no doubt waiting for her to start lobbing fireballs or make heads explode, but instead she drags Lou through the doors behind her.

Lou looks the same as she did when Homelander took her, still wearing the same pink polka dot pajamas, except now she's holding the hand of a boy who looks maybe twelve years old with blondish-brown hair that hangs into his eyes that you're assuming is Ryan.

The woman, identified as Ashley disappears as suddenly as she appeared and slams the doors behind her.

Probably had the right idea. This entire room is about to become ground zero. Which is horrifying because now Lou is here.

The amount of relief you feel at the appearance of your granddaughter is overwhelming, fear of her being locked away somewhere evaporating as her eyes fall on you, wide and green.

"Lou." You breathe and cross the room to get to her, ignoring Homelander's gaze that follows your every move. You drop to your knees to give her a hug, but for the first time since you met her, she doesn't hug you back. "Are you alright? Are you hurt?” She's not smiling at you, she's frowning.

"Are you my grandma?"

The question makes you freeze for a moment. Obviously Homelander had told her the truth about everything and you didn't want to lie to her again. You knew this day would come, but you didn't think that she would find out this way. If anything Rosemary and you were going to tell her when she was old enough to understand that it wasn't something she should say in public.

You didn't look like a grandmother, nor did you think that anyone would believe Lou if she said it in public, but it would reveal that you were in fact Indigo.

Then again, we're probably past that. You frown at the thought, but it was true. There was no going back. You'd walked into Vought with no disguise in front of all the cameras and you certainly were going to leave your mark here tonight. You'd be lucky if Vought didn't run the story in the morning:

"Payback Strikes Back Against the Celebrated Seven"

Of course in that story everyone would conveniently forget that Ben and you were also beloved heroes, were also worshipped and elevated in society. Funny how things like that seem to be lost in translation.

"Yes." You reach up to push back her hair and she moves her head away, her dark hair slipping through your fingertips.

"Why did you lie? Lying is mean." She whispers, hurt flashing in her eyes. "Did you not want to be my grandma?" Lou looks down at her feet clad in a pair of teddy bear slippers.

"Oh sweetie." You sigh, tilting her chin up to look at you. "I did. I am. It was just easier this way-"

"Mommy says that lying is bad." Her green eyes are watery, voice quiet.

"I know. It is. But you have to understand it was a grown-up decision and we didn't want you to find out like this." This time she lets you brush her hair back from her face. "And it doesn't mean we love you any less."

Her eyes flick to Ben. Ben had followed you over, to make sure that Homelander didn't attack you when your back was turned.

"You're my grandpa?" Lou sniffles.

"Yeah." Ben forces a tight smile for Lou's sake, but you know that he's thinking that this isn't the place for this.

It isn't.

You could still feel Homelander's eyes against your back and you were trying to fight the shudder of disgust.

"Ryan say hello to your grandparents." Homelander calls from his position by the window, his voice proud and filled with  humor.

"Hello." Ryan smiles, but its hesitant and you’re happy that he’s at least able to read the room. A skill that his father didn't seem to have.

"Hi." You smile back tightly, the same smile that Ben had moments ago.

Meeting Ryan made all of this worse. You hear Homelander's footsteps as he gets closer to you and Ben mirrors his movement to block Homelander narrowing his eyes. You weren't here for a family reunion, you were here to kill Homelander and get your family back, but the thought of killing Ryan's father in front of him made you hesitate. That was something that seemed too cruel to consider, unless if Ryan was somehow shown how monstrous his father was.

Homelander holds his hands up in mock surrender. "I just want to talk this out."

You stand and push Lou behind you, refusing to let Homelander get anywhere near her again. "I thought you didn't want to talk to us anymore." You spit the words.

"I changed my mind." He forces his expression into something that looks like shame. "Maybe I got a little carried away before. But you have to understand I have been waiting to be apart of a family for such a long time and now that I have Ryan I’ve realized how important it is to have one. I'd never felt that kind of love for someone else, the kind of love that drives you to sacrifice whatever you have to save them.” He glances down at Lou who is peeking out from behind your leg at Homelander. "The kind of love you have for Lou."

He speaks like a practiced actor, his hand movements simple, rehearsed, the expressions on his face calm and collected, but you don't believe it for a minute.

"I know you said that I wasn’t your son, but I am." He says, eyes flicking from Ben to you. "I am your blood that's all that matters and now we can be a family. A real family."

"Where is Rosemary?" You ask. Lou hasn't moved from behind you.

"Please. All I'm asking is for a chance-" Homelander says ignoring your question.

"Why should we give you a fucking chance? You kidnapped Lou, you've probably hurt Rosemary or worse!" You could feel the room beginning to shake with the force of your anger, eyes shifting to purple.

"You kidnapped her, Dad?" Ryan asks in surprise.

You look back at where he was standing. Lou was still holding on to his hand and when you'd pushed her behind you, you'd also inadvertently pushed Ryan behind you too.

"I thought you said that Lou wanted to come live with us." Ryan continues looking confused. "And who's Rosemary?"

"He lied." Ben snarls, eyes not leaving Homelander.

"My guess is he does that a lot." You sigh looking at Ryan. "She's Lou's mother, your aunt. She flew after him when he took Lou. You haven't seen her?"

Ryan shakes his head.

Fuck.

Homelander ignores the question again and changes tactics, his blue eyes turning on Ben. "I understand what it's like for your team to betray you, to stab you in the back, to act like you didn't fight together, bleed together and to act like you weren't willing to die for one another. We could be unstoppable together, all of us. A family. Isn't that what you always wanted dad?" Homelander says the last part softly, enticing Ben to make that choice. "I read your file. Everything about what happened to your mother and it wasn't hard to figure out what happened with your father."

Ben's jaw clenches together and you watch his entire body tighten at the mention of his dad.

It was true. Ben had always wanted a family, always wanted someone in his life that cared for him, that he could love and be loved by, and you had made sure in all the years you'd known him that it was you. You were his family just as Ben had become your family and cared for you. It was hard to not be family to one another after all the years you'd spent together, to not care about him the way you did. It wasn't a burden to you to love Ben and wasn’t a burden for you to take up the title of family, because it was simply true.

You reach out and touch Ben's back to let him know that you’re there, feeling his muscles twitch for just a moment beneath your hand, before he glances over his shoulder at you. For just a fraction of a second you see the Soldier Boy façade drop and you see your Ben again, before something hardens in his eyes. The conversation that passes through the glance you share is absolute and quick, but he understands.

Ben takes a step towards Homelander letting your hand fall as he forces a tired sigh. "I'm sorry." He places his hand on Homelander's right shoulder.

You watch Homelander relax under the contact, the expression on his face hurts you. You didn't think it would, but Homelander looks happy and comforted that Ben was here with him. Content that Ben finally gave in.

In some ways you wished that it could be this way, that Homelander was redeemable, and that you could all be a family the way he wanted. But you couldn’t. The blood on his hands was too great and you had to stop him before anyone else got hurt.

"I'm sorry that I wasn't there, sorry that I wasn't able to teach you what I should have father to son." Ben sighs. "I think it would have helped you. I think your mother could have helped you."

"You're here now." Homelander says, looking over Ben shoulder at you, his eyes misty. You force yourself to send him an encouraging smile. "Both of you are." Homelander's voice sticks a little as he says it.

Something deep down breaks when he says that, because it’s the same thing that Ben and you had said to each other outside. As much as you wanted to hate Homelander, to push him away, another part of you was beginning to unravel, the part of you that wanted to accept him as your son. But you couldn’t because he didn't deserve that. Homelander was the monster that Vogelbaum created, there wasn’t a shred of human decency left and that meant Ben and you had to make a hard decision.

You wonder if Ben really did feel that way or if he was just doing this because he knew you wanted him to.

Ben continues to smile at him. "It would have helped you not to become a sniveling weak pussy starved for attention."

Homelander's smile falters. "Weak? But I'm your blood. Your son-"

"I know." You try to ignore the emotion that bleeds into Ben's voice when he says it. "And you're a fucking disappointment."

"What-" Homelander doesn't get the word out before Ben tackles him back away from you and Butcher leaps over the table to help him.

Ryan stiffens behind you as they do this and you look at him. "Dad?" Ryan whispers.

Lou gasps and touches the end of your shirt in fear, watching Homelander fight Butcher and Ben back, his eyes glowing an ominous red.

You open your mouth to say something to her and Ryan, but you feel a sharp pressure on the back of your neck and hear a high pitched snap.  You turn your head to look to your right and see Black Noir standing there, a broken syringe that holds a clear liquid in his right hand. The tip snapped when he had tried to press it into your body, unaware that your newfound power meant that nothing could break your skin.

"Ryan, please take Lou out of here. I don't want her to see this." You say calmly, not looking away from Noir, who lowers the syringe slowly in shock.

"But-" Ryan begins to say.

"Do it now." You order turning your body to face Noir. "Hello Earving. Long time no see."

Noir takes a small step backward realizing his mistake as Ryan pulls Lou to the doors on the other side of the room.

You hear Noir try to form a word, nothing more than an awkward click and a wheezing sound. "Sorry I can't hear you." You smile cruelly at him.

"I’d say you look good but, Ben really fucked you up pretty good didn't he?" You look through the mask with your x-ray vision, seeing just how messed up Noir is underneath. "It's a miracle that you're alive. That any of you got out of there alive."

Noir drops the syringe and pulls a knife, the blade shining in the fluorescent lights.

"You know, if the syringe didn't work, I don't think the knife will either." You begin to say, but he's undeterred.

He lunges forward sweeping the blade in a deadly arch aiming for your neck, but you catch his wrist. “If I had been there you all would have suffered.” You turn his wrist at an awkward angle, listening to the sharp cracking of bone as it snaps and Noir’s wheeze of pain.

Behind you, you could hear the telltale sound of punching and crashing, but you don’t look away from Noir, trusting that Ben and Butcher have it under control.

"Before I killed Countess I had to listen to her go on and on about how proud she was about that day, how proud she was that you all stabbed Ben in the fucking back, and honestly I didn’t mean to kill her. Though I will admit I regret not making it last a little longer. The Twins begged for mercy, tried to tell me that it was a big mistake, that Ben lied to me." You shrug advancing on him. "But Ben doesn't lie to me."

Noir tries again, kicking his foot up to hit your abdomen, but your hand closes on his ankle keeping his leg extended between the two of you.

 "He told me exactly what happened that day." You snarl, shoving Noir back from you so harshly that he lands on the ground. "You all turned on him. And honestly, you got off easy. You're lucky I wasn't there. Do you have any idea what I would have done to you if I had been there?" You smile and let out a low laugh. "Well I guess that doesn't matter, because you’re about to find out."

He scuffles back still on the ground, trying to crawl back, and reaches into his pocket for something. You were expecting a gun or a throwing knife, but instead he pulls out a notepad and a pen and you stop.

"What are you-" You begin to say, but Noir starts frantically writing with his only good hand.

He curls his ruined arm under the notepad to hold it steady as he forms the words on the page, and holds it up for you to see.

Did it for you.

"What?"

Noir drops the pad to write again.

Using you.

"Who?"

Him.

"Ben?"

Noir nods frantically.

Only way.

Wow he is so much worse off than I thought.

Then again, when Ben broke your heart you did think that too for a little bit. That all the years spent together had been a lie and that he was manipulating you and using you because he didn’t want to face the silence alone. It reminded you of the thing your mother shouted at you when you gave Howard back the ring and left home:

“You really think that disappointment will ever love you? Care about you? You are nothing to him, just another plaything. And the day he finally tosses you away, don’t bother coming back here.”

It makes you hesitate again and Noir sees it as an opportunity to write more on his piece of paper.

Set you free.

"You thought that the only way to free me was to send Ben to fucking Russia?"

Noir nods.

"I wasn't some fucking damsel in distress. I wasn't locked up in a tower by some dragon. I wasn't trapped-

You were.

"No I wasn't I chose to be there-"

Not happy.

"I was happy Earving."

I am better for you.

Your jaw snaps together, looking past the mask and into his scarred face. The expression in his eyes has shifted now, to something softer, something vulnerable and earnest. You remember what Stan said about Noir going through your apartment when you weren't there, stealing pieces of your clothing, and stealing your jewelry.

I did everything for you.

Noir reaches into his pocket and pulls out something that glimmers in the light. It takes you a moment to recognize it, but it's your pearl necklace, the one your father gave you when you spent your first birthday away from home. He holds it out to you and you take it from his hand. The beads are just as you remember, maybe a little yellowed with age, but still in good condition. Soft and supple against your fingertips, warmed from where they were in Noir's pocket.

Said I could have you.

"Who?"

Stan.

The name of the man you killed makes your blood run cold and for a minute you feel bad for Noir, feel bad that he believed what Stan said. Stan who told Noir whatever he could into manipulating him to do his bidding.

Stan knew that he was obsessed with me, knew exactly what to say to make sure that Noir would do what he wished. And Noir believed that I was something that Stan could give away. I didn't belong to Stan, didn't belong to anyone but me.

That was the problem with Stan after all, that he thought you were a commodity to be sold. That everyone else in the entire world believed that you were nothing more than a puppet to be used and disposed of whenever they saw fit. It was the same attitude that drove Stan and Vogelbaum to take your genetic material.

But then you left. Tried to find you. Couldn't find you. Why did you hide?

You watched Noir's shoulders slump as if it was painful for him to go through the past forty years not knowing where you were.

Could have helped you.

 A chill of disgust traces its hand down your back. You wondered how long he had been stalking you and wondered how many things he still had from forty years ago. The pearls were quickly icing in your hands, a symbol of the girl you used to be, the one who walked around Philadelphia and saw the world in color, saw the good in people. You knew that she was gone, long gone. Not after everything that you'd been through in the past week, finding out about what Vogelbaum did to you changed you, finding out what happened to Rosemary with Charlie changed you into someone different.

But you didn’t hate who you had become. You glance behind you at where Ben is fighting Homelander, ducking beneath the blows that Homelander tries to land, dancing around him.

I love you.

When your eyes trace over the familiar words and see the earnestness in Noir's eyes behind the mask. A part of you breaks for Noir, understanding that his obsession with you maybe did stem from good intentions but the descent into madness that drove him to do the things he did was dark and consumed him quickly.

"Did you know about Homelander?"

Noir was still sitting on the ground looking up at you and when you ask the question you watch him drop his head to his chest in shame.

Yes.

You move the pearls to your front pocket, considering your next move. "I saved your life before from Ben, not because I loved you but because I didn’t think it was right for him to hurt you. I didn't think that you deserved to lose your life over a film role.” You murmur with a sigh “But maybe if you'd gone about this the right way I would have given you a chance."

Do it now.

"No." You shake your head.

But I love you. I'm here-

The next word is just a scribble now as you fling your hand out and Noir's body flies back into the concrete wall. It cracks around him as you increase the pressure and he begins to fold in on himself.

"If you really loved me Earving, you wouldn't have let them do that to me." Your voice sounds hollow, but you know that it's the truth. “You would have tried harder to find me every day, to tell me what they fucking did.”

“Did try-“ He wheezes in a broken voice, barely audible.

“Should have tried harder.”

"Please-" The word is only a shadow of what it should be, his injuries making it difficult to form it, and through the mask you see a single tear tracing the side of his scared face.

"Ben would have ripped them all apart if he knew what they did. But you didn't, you sat at Stan's table for forty years and did absolutely nothing. You don't get the privilege to beg for mercy. Not after the things you did to Ben, and after the things you kept from me." There’s a purple outline glowing all around him, weaving around his torso. Your hand closes, the subtle glow of purple around his body tightening more and more, his screams sounding more like muffled wheezes, different than the shrieks of pain that Stan released in his final moments. And you continue to close your hand until there's nothing left, but a ball of flesh, tissue, and bone sitting on the ground where Noir used to be. Blood flecks the floor, forming rivulets that run like rivers over the pristine black marble like the roots of a tree.

You take in a breath, trying not to go into the darkness again that surges up with Noir’s death, the same darkness that dragged you under when everything happened with Stan, but you right yourself and turn to look at where Ben is fighting Homelander.

Ben is shaking his head and rising from a pile of debris, while Homelander floats in the air holding Butcher by the throat, looking down at him with a sickening smile.

"Goodbye William." Homelander turns and throws him against the window. It shatters with the force of Butcher's body being thrown against it and his body disappears from view into the air outside of the building.

Homelander turns to look at Ben and you. Ben has a cut on his cheek from Homelander's laser vision and takes a shaky step forward, but he stands proudly, putting himself between Homelander and you.

“Dad why did you do that?" Ryan asks. "Butcher was my friend."

Your gaze flicks to where Ryan and Lou are peeking around the door way that leads to another part of the tower and you're suddenly afraid that Lou saw what you did to Noir, but she's only looking out the shattered window in horror, tears in her little eyes. She liked Butcher, thought that he was funny.

"He was standing in my way son. And we don't let anyone stand in our way do we? Even our friends." Homelander's hair is hanging in his face from the fight, suit ripped away from his chest to reveal the black bodysuit underneath, one of his golden eagle shoulder pads is missing, and he has a prominent bruise on his cheek.  "See isn’t that better. No more Butcher to spread lies about me. Now we can all talk like a family.”

"Wouldn’t be too sure of that you narcissistic cunt." You hear Butcher’s voice say.

Rosemary floats into the room, supporting Butcher with one of his arms wrapped around her shoulders. She's still wearing the exact same thing she was when she followed Homelander, but now the dark sweatpants and t-shirt are ripped and riddled with what look like bullet holes. Rosemary's hair is wild around her face the hair tie that held it long gone, and she has blood flecked on her arms that you’re sure isn’t hers.

But she's there and she's alive.

You weren’t going to ask her what happened, but the wave of relief you have with her appearance obliterates the weight on your shoulders.

“We aren’t a fucking family.” Rosemary grits her teeth together, spitting the words back at Homelander.

"Mommy!" Lou says happily pulling away from Ryan to go towards her mother, who is closer to Homelander than you wanted her to be.

"How did you-" Homelander sputters.

"Get out of that pathetic excuse for a trap?" She snarls, green eyes flashing, looking more like Ben as she touches down in the room, helping Butcher to his feet. "It was easy. But you and I aren't done."

"I think we are." Homelander's eyes glow bright red, letting lose a bolt, it glances off her arm, but Rosemary crashes into him, grabbing him around the wrist to bring him down against the ground so hard that it rattles the other windows in the room.

But as she tries to bring his body against the marble floor again, Homelander breaks free and rises from the ground to fasten his hand around her throat, his eyes still glowing a sharp red that cuts through the room.

"You’re really pathetic." Homelander sighs. "I expected more, but I suppose you have no training or no practice controlling your powers."

She spits in Homelander's face and his gaze turns murderous.

"Let her go." Ben snarls, his chest beginning to glow, and this time you know that he won't stop, that he won't hold back from hitting Homelander full blast.

Homelander ignores Ben, focusing on Rosemary. "You think that you’re more powerful than me? You're not. I am the oldest after all." Homelander's voice is eerily calm. “You are nothing. Insignificant. You waste your life caring for other people and it makes you weak.”

“Leave my mommy alone!” Lou shouts and kicks Homelander in the shin.

Homelander looks down at her, his eyes still glowing.

Oh shit.

“You know, I thought you were cute at first, but you’re really just annoying.” He sighs kicks out with his foot and before you can do anything Lou goes flying out the opening in the window with a blood curdling scream.

“No!” You shout as her body vanishes just as Butcher’s had only seconds ago. You feel your body take off the ground to chase after her, but before you make it out the window, Lou comes soaring back in her little fists clenched tightly at her sides.

“That was mean.” She states indignantly.

Your eyes widen in shock, feet touching back down on the ground. She can FLY?

“Wow. I kinda expected more than you only being able to fly seeing as you’re supposed to be so powerful but I guess-" Homelander begins to say.

Lou waves her hand a purple glow coming from around her fingertips and the large table in the middle of the room jerks off the floor and slams into Homelander like a freight train. A loud “ooof” comes out of his mouth as he drops Rosemary and flies back against the wall of monitors.

“Mommy are you okay?” Lou says hugging her mom tight.

“Yes sweetie.” Rosemary says hugging her back, but even she seems as stunned by this turn of events as you do.

Yes Rosemary had said that Lou was going to develop powers, but you didn’t think it was going to happen like this or this soon. Then again you weren’t well versed in how long it took for supe children to develop them. Rosemary had developed hers when she was one year old, but you were hoping that maybe you had a few years before Lou developed hers.

“How did she do that?” Ben murmurs to you.

“I have no idea. It’s not a power I was born with or Rosemary was born with. Same with the flying-“ You whisper back. “She didn’t touch Rosemary before she did it, but-“ A horrible thought comes flitting into your mind.

The truth was you’d never used your powers around Lou, neither had Rosemary. Lou didn't know that either of you were supes. She’d never had exposure to super powers before today, hadn't watched them on t.v or been around any other supes which meant that she was experiencing all of this for the first time.

And that’s why they’re manifesting right now.

“But what?”

“She saw me use telekinesis to fight Noir. She saw Homelander fly." You murmur.

I receive powers through death, Rosemary through touch, and Lou through sight.

Holy.

Fucking.

Shit.

She could have limitless power, more than any of us, more than any supe that ever lived. No wonder Charlie was obsessed with her power. All she has to do is see a supe use their powers and-

The fear of Vought and the government comes crashing over you all over again, because you knew that they wouldn't let Lou go free, not when her ability was something like that, something that made her indestructible and unstoppable.

They'd run experiments on her, do whatever it took to try and gain that power for themselves, because who needed an army of supes when there was just one who was able to do anything?

“Are you saying what I think you’re saying?” Ben leans towards you.

“Yeah.”

“Fuck.” Ben mutters.

“You can say that again.”

Homelander rises from the ground brushing off his clothes with a snarl on his face eyeing Lou and Rosemary before he finally turns himself towards Ben and you. "I don’t understand why you're doing this."

"Us?" You scoff trying to shake off the shiver of fear that came with the revelation of Lou’s gift. "You’re the one who kidnapped an innocent child and just tried to throw her out a fucking window."

"You should thank me!" He snaps, eyes gleaming darkly in the light. "I unlocked her abilities. Something that neither of you had been able to do. And now she really is growing into her potential." His eyes flick to where Ryan is standing by Butcher. Butcher's hand is on his shoulder. "You really turned into a disappointment too. I tried to do all of that with you and all you did was kill your fucking mother!"

Ryan inhales sharply, and Butcher's hand tightens on his shoulder. "The only disappointment here is you." Butcher's eyes narrow as he stares at Homelander. "Ryan is not a disappointment to me and he wasn't a disappointment to Becca! And it's not his fault what happened to her."

"Oh right Becca." Homelander rolls his eyes. "You've really got to get over her. She wasn't anything special. Practically brainwashed Ryan into believing he wasn't special. When he comes from a practically god-like bloodline. Judging by Lou's powers I'd say that Ryan got the short end of the stick."

"We are not gods." You spit. "Can't you fucking see that? We are what Vought created. We live, we bleed, we die, that's it. Nothing more, nothing less."

"It wasn't supposed to be like this." Homelander looks furious. "You were supposed to be my family, supposed to love me!" He looks from Ryan to Lou to Rosemary and then finally back at Ben and you. "Somebody has to like me best! Someone has to love me! I'm your blood! Your son! Your first born!"

"She's said it before and I'll say it again." Ben states from where he's standing next to you. "You might be our blood, but you're not our son."

The manic look on Homelander's face makes you anxious. He was like a feral animal backed into a corner. He knew that he had lost and you knew that there was no way to tell how he would react to this.

“Do you have any idea what I could do to you?” Homelander’s voice is more of a growl now as he begins to advance on Ben. “I am the most powerful super who ever lived. I am a god. And you are nothing compared to me.”

You step up beside Ben preparing for what comes next. “You’re nothing Homelander. You’re just a sad little boy who never grew up and became a hollow shell of a person that Vought filled with macho bullshit until you turned into a monster.” You say cooly. You were ready to fight him again, to kill him, because you knew he would never stop, that he wouldn’t leave any of you alone unless he was dead.

“I am not a monster!” His eyes are dark. “You think you’re so high and mighty? You’ve killed more people than me and at least I do it quickly. Did you enjoy it?” He smiles wide. “To watch the light fade from their eyes? To crush them into nothing while you sat back and craved their deaths?”

“The people I have killed I have killed to protect my family. I don’t do it for sport.”

“I don’t understand why you won’t just accept me! I’m your son! I’m not some fuck up disappointment! I’m Homelander! The greatest supe who ever lived. You should be proud of me! Proud to be my parents.” His eyes narrow. “Do you have any idea what I could give you? I have built an empire from nothing. Dad, you could be on top again, a household name, respect, power, money, women, anything you wanted and you’re really going to throw all of that away? For her? For them?”

Ben's eyes skate over Lou and Rosemary, and flick to you before he levels his gaze on Homelander once more.

“I have everything I need.” Ben’s voice is low and gruff squeezing your hand tighter in his as he speaks.

You feel your heartbeat stutter for a second, because Ben had said and done the one thing that you never believed that Soldier Boy ever could. After eighty years, Ben had chosen you just as you’d chosen him the night he asked you to give up everything you knew and dive into the unknown with him. And you felt the last shred of apprehension about him staying in your life crumple up and burn, because you knew that he wasn't going anywhere and that he was going to love you and stay with you for the rest of your life. If you weren’t in this situation you were sure that you would be crying.

“Fine. If you don’t wish to be apart of it, then you’ll burn with the others.” His eyes begin to glow bright red as he prepares to charge Ben and you.

You brace your body for the coming fight, dropping Ben's hand.

Everything slows down. Homelander's feet leave the ground as he starts to fly forward to kill you, the heat from Ben's chest burning the air around you, and the beating of your own heart thunderous in your ears as you feel your eyes shift to red.

But the attack never comes.

A blinding flash of golden-orange light hits Homelander in his left side, there's an unmistakable smell of burning flesh and hair, and Homelander's body is knocked off course through the wall full of monitors. There's a scream somewhere and you turn to see Rosemary, kneeling over Lou's body that lies on the ground.

And you understand. The attack didn’t come from Ben, it came from Lou. Lou who saw Ben use his powers, Lou who had the ability to replicate abilities through sight, and Lou who was so little that you were unsure what something like that would do to her.

"Lou." You gasp racing over to where Rosemary is cradling her little body to her chest.

She looks okay, paler than normal, her breathing is uneven, and you can hear the frantic beat of her little heart, but she does not open her eyes.

"Louisa?" Rosemary says, stroking the back of her head, looking into the face of her daughter, using her full name for the first time in years.

She doesn't move, stays limp in her mother's arms.

No. I can't lose Lou. I've lost so much over the years.

Tears spring to your eyes as you fall to your knees, reaching out to touch her arm. Her skin is so warm it almost burns the palm of your hand, but you don't remove it.

"Lou please. Wake up sweetie." You say, voice thick with emotion.

Lou stays as she is.

Ben's hand comes down on your shoulder and you lean into his leg, shuddering as tears begin to trickle down your cheeks.

Rosemary is beside herself, sobs shaking her shoulders, cradling Lou to her chest. "Please don't leave me." You hear Rosemary whisper.

You suddenly flash back to the day on the beach that you took the bullet for Ben, when your blood turned the sand to mud and Ben held you so tight to his chest that it almost hurt, and you thought you heard him say the same words as you felt yourself began to drift off into nothing.

Ben pulls you up against his chest, tucking your head into the hollow of his throat, his arms wrapped tightly around your waist as he looks down at his daughter and granddaughter. You shudder into his chest, choking back a sob, arms gripping the front of his suit.

"Mommy?" You hear Lou's little voice murmur.

You pull away from Ben's chest to see where Lou is still lying, her eyes blinking open, but it seems like too much effort.

"Yes sweetie?"

"Can we go home now?" Lou says. "I'm tired."

"Whatever you want honey." Rosemary sighs in relief, hugging Lou closer to her.

"I want grandpa to come with us." She breathes into Rosemary's shirt, wrapping her little arms around her mother's neck. "And grandma and Ryan." Lou says the last too so quietly that you don't think that you heard correctly, but she quickly falls asleep.

"Okay." Rosemary's eyes are closed, and she's petting the back of Lou's back.

You exhale, slowing down your breathing, still holding tight to Ben's supe suit. Ben's eyes aren't on you though, they are focused on the giant hole in the side of the building that Homelander disappeared into.

Homelander comes stumbling through holding his head. His supe suit hangs in burned tatters on his shoulders, but his skin looks unscathed. There's a large lump on the side of his temple, and he squints at Ben and you as if he can't recognize you.

"Hello." Homelander says it hesitantly. "Um. I'm sorry I don't know where I am. Do you live here?"

Holy fucking shit.

"Um." You stutter.

"Do you know who I am?" Homelander continues taking a shaky step towards where you're all standing.

"Dad are you okay?" Ryan asks.

Homelander's blue eyes flick to his son. "I'm your dad?"

Butcher is on Homelander before you can stop him, tackling him to the ground and landing a punch against Homelander's nose.

There's a sickening crunching noise and a high pitched wail from Homelander, as the nose breaks beneath Butcher's fist and blood floods down Homelander's face.

He's human now, but he doesn't know who he is. Your eyes skate across where Homelander lays under Butcher until your eyes catch on the lump on his right temple. He has brain damage from when he landed, he hit his head, doesn't remember any of this, any of us, any of who he is.

And before Butcher can land another blow you grab him by the back of the coat and throw him across the room. He checks himself mid-air and lands in a crouch, his coat billowing out behind him like a cape.

"Just hold on for a minute." You say.

"What the fuck are you doing?" He shouts, fist still covered in blood.

What am I doing? The thought was also going around in your head. You had come here to kill Homelander, to make him pay, but seeing him like this, unable to tell who he was or where he was, made this feel wrong. You couldn't put your finger on it, but it felt evil to kill someone who didn't know the reason why they were going to be executed.

"Don't touch him." You say, standing between Butcher and Homelander. Ben and Rosemary are watching you like you're crazy, but you don't let Butcher get close to Homelander.

"Why did you do that?" Homelander cries, holding his gloved hand to his nose to stop the bleeding. Tears are slipping down his cheeks from the pain.

"Ryan give me your jacket please." You hold out your hand for Ryan's red jacket who is looking at his father in total disbelief. "Here." You give it to Homelander. "Tilt your head back and press this to your face."

He does what you say, but he's still watching you like he doesn't completely trust you.

The feeling is mutual.

"You're kidding right? He's still a psychopathic maniac-" Butcher snarls advancing on you. Ben steps forward to stop him.

"I'm not going to let you kill him in front of his child and it-" You glance back at Homelander. "It's different now. He doesn't know who he is, doesn't know why he's here-"

"You don’t think he's fucking faking?" Ben shouts, glaring back at where Homelander is still standing, and for the first time you see genuine fear on Homelander's face.

I mean he is a good actor, but I don’t think that he's acting.

"I don't think he is."

Ben pinches the bridge of his nose. "Look sweetheart I know that he might be having a little bit of memory loss, but he's still Homelander. And I know that he is technically our son but this isn't like starting over. You can't redeem him this way."

"You're my parents?" Homelander asks looking at Ben and you suddenly confused. "But you're so young?"

You ignore him. "I'm not trying to redeem him and I'm not saying that he doesn't deserve to die or that we shouldn't kill him. I just think that we shouldn't kill him now when he's like this."

Ben narrows his eyes at the man who used to be Homelander. You can see the gears working inside of his head as he mulls over your logic, but you knew it meant that you had a shot of convincing him.

"Ben he's human now, you saw Butcher break his nose. He can't fake that-"

"That doesn't matter he's still the same person!" Ben sighs as if you're annoying him. "The same person that hurt Rosemary, the same person who kidnapped Lou."

"I know he's the same person, but it feels wrong to do this, to execute him for something that he can't remember. It's like killing a little kid."

"Fuck." Ben mutters it more to himself than to you as he tries again to see your logic.

Honestly, it hard to see it yourself. You had killed a few people over the years, didn't feel remorse when it came to the safety of your family, but this was different. Homelander had killed people, threatened, and tortured others but he didn't remember it. You hated that it made you guilty when if anyone deserved to die it was him.

"Fine." Ben holds up a hand. "Fine. We help him jog his memory then we kill him."

"Okay, yes that's all I'm asking." You agree.

"Wait a minute, I'm not going to agree to any of that bullshi-" Butcher begins to say, but the large doors at the back of the room open and a group of people walk in.

You recognize Hughie right off the bat, one girl as Starlight from her livestreams, the man from Herogasm who tried to gas Ben that Butcher identified as MM, but the other two are unfamiliar. One is a supe, her black hair straight and hanging around her face, but the other is a man holding a canister of some kind in his right hand with cropped black hair who smells like how Ben used to when he would shoot up and smoke whatever he could get his hands on in the 70's.

Well this is either going to go badly or go badly.

"Who are they?" Homelander says, his voice nasally from where he's holding the jacket to his face.

"What the fuck happened?" Hughie asks, looking around the room at the destruction.

"Well-" Butcher begins to say.

"I turned him human with whatever the fuck is in my chest. You're welcome." Ben lies.

You swallow the lump in the back of your throat. The last thing you wanted was for them to know what Lou was capable of. Rosemary is standing now behind you, holding Lou in her arms who sleeps quietly, curled into her mother.

"But how did you-" Starlight asks.

"I held him down telekinetically." You shrug. "Wasn't that hard."

"Huh." She frowns. "But you didn't kill him?"

"He hit his head." Butcher explains coming to stand beside you. "Can't remember a bloody thing."

"And you believe that?" MM sputters. His eyes haven't left Ben and you know exactly what he's thinking about, the night his grandfather died.

"She does." Butcher nods his head in your direction. "And she doesn't want to kill him if he can't remember why he's a fucking cunt."

MM's eyes flick to you. "Who are you?"

"You're Indigo right? The supe from the 80's who vanished?" Starlight asks.

"Mhmm." You hoped that they weren't here to fight you, but the shiny silver cannister in the shorter man's hand says otherwise. "But all of that doesn't matter now. It was a long time ago. The only thing that matters here is that Homelander is human and that no one died."

Her eyes flick to the ball of flesh in the corner that was Noir then back at you. "No one?"

"No one who didn't deserve it." Ben clarifies gruffly.

You could feel the tension in the air between the group of people standing in front of you. Ben was mirroring your protective stance in front of Rosemary, Lou, and Ryan. You weren't sure what was going to happen, but you didn't want to put them in the line of fire.

"We don't want any trouble, we're just going to take Homelander and leave." You say diplomatically.

"Who's Homelander?" Homelander says still obviously confused. "Is that me?"

Everyone ignores him.

"Wait where are you going to take him?" Hughie asks.

"I have a friend. She knows how to handle supes. She'll find a place for him." Your gaze flicks to the other female supe who hasn't said anything since she walked into the room. You didn't like that you didn't know what her powers are and did not know what to expect if she chose to fight you.

You also hadn't spoken to your would-be friend in over forty years, but you figured that she still was able to pull the same strings she had done in the past for you.

"A friend?" Butcher sounds skeptical.

"Yeah. So if you wouldn't mind letting us through-" You take a step forward preparing to push through the group of people.

MM pulls his gun. "We can't let you do that."

"Why?"

"Well for one Soldier Boy is a terrorist. He's killed people." Starlight's eyes narrow when she looks at Ben. "He's a nuclear bomb with a short fuse, who knows who else will get hurt. Not to mention he's murdered people."

"The only people I murdered are the people from our old team, everyone else was an accident." Ben replies gruffly, looking down the barrel of the gun, unfazed.

"Doesn't matter. It's still murder." The man with the gun states, his eyes narrowing at Ben.

This is not going to go well.

You sigh. You didn't want to kill them, but it was quickly becoming apparent that they weren't going to back down.

"We can do this the easy way or the hard way." The other man says in a faintly French accent, the dark haired supe beside him tensing as if preparing to spring.

"And you don't want to fight us." MM narrows his eyes at you.

Ben chuckles under his breath. "Trust me kid, it won't be much of a fight."

He's really not helping his case.

"Oh really?" Starlight's eyes begin to glow a dangerous gold, challenging you to get in her way.

You snort before you can stop yourself. "Your eyes glow, that's cute." You smirk at her, feeling yours shift to bright purple. "Mine do too."

"Annie wait." Hughie says, placing his hand on her arm. "Just let her talk for a minute."

"Really? You want me to listen to this psychopath? You see what she did to Noir-" Starlight, now Annie, gestures back to the blood stained wall and what's left of your old friend.

"If it's any of your business, you would know that he deserved it. And he started it." You say simply. "But it’s not."

"So what? You're telling us to just let you take Homelander?" She spits, eyes still glowing. "And let you leave with Soldier Boy?"

"You really think you can stop us?" Ben takes a step towards Annie, but you hold up your arm to stop him.

"I've honestly had a really bad week and we don't want to fight." You emphasize. "But we will if we have to. And trust me you really don't want that to happen."

"Then come willingly." MM says without lowering his gun.

"You know we can't do that. The last thing I’m going to do is let you lock Soldier Boy up again in some fucking lab. He's been in there long enough.” You reply.

"I'm not going to let you walk away with a ticking time bomb. He's killed people." Annie looks at where Ben is standing slightly to your left.

Like hell you're gonna take him and lock him in a cage.

"He's in control now. And I'll keep him in check."

"You expect us to trust you?" She scoffs. "You, who also have killed who knows how many people over the years."

"Could be worse." You shrug. "But the truth is none of you can stop us, sure maybe you can slow us down for a few minutes, but it won't end well for any of you. And I'd rather not kill any more people today in front of my grandchildren." You raise an eyebrow.

Annie's eyes shift back to where Rosemary is watching her warily, still cuddling Lou to her chest, and you can feel Starlight hesitate for just a second.

"Look Annie, can I call you Annie?" You let your eyes return to their natural color and wave your hand in what you think might be a friendly gesture, but your patience was wearing thin.

"No."

"Annie." You clear your throat. "The things I've done, I've done for my family. I think that maybe you can sympathize with that a little bit. And Soldier Boy well-" You glance at Ben, who is still staring down the barrel of the pistol with a stoic expression. Honestly you knew he was waiting for you to say the word to take down the group of people in front of you. "He's trying to be better and I'm going to help him, but I can't let you put him in a prison cell somewhere or in a cage or a lab."

“I can’t just let you disappear with him.” Starlight’s gaze is firm, unyielding.

You were willing to kill her if that’s what it took, but honestly you were exhausted. Emotionally. Not to mention you didn’t want to have to use the one favor you had but you were going to have to, to make your friend deal with Homelander. You hated owing her favors, they never ended well.

“We won’t disappear.”

“Why should I believe that?”

"You don't have to, but I don’t owe you anything Annie. No explanations, no nothing. Please just be thankful that this is all there is." You look at the faces of the people around her and stop on Hughie, before shifting back to her. "Do you want their blood on your hands? Because I don't. So please let us go and I promise that we won't be a problem."

"You're so sure that it's going to go your way. That you're going to kill all of us. You might be a supe but you don't know that you're going to-" MM begins to say and you finally snap.

Your eyes shift back to bright purple, energy pulsing out from your body as you unlock the anger, rage, betrayal, and hurt you felt the night you almost destroyed Legend's backyard. The bodies of the people standing in front of you lock up as your powers take control, weaving across their limbs, and shrouding them in the warm purple glow from your abilities, forcing them to their knees with their hands behind their backs. The only one you didn’t do this to was Hughie who is looking at you like you're some kind of monster.

And maybe the old you would have thought that too, but the new you wasn't phased.

Annie's body is glowing now, trying to fight the compulsion of your telekinetic abilities, but you know that she can't break it.

"That's how she knows." Ben says with a smirk. You can almost hear pride in his voice.

"Please let them go." Hughie asks you.

"I will. But first we're going to leave. Rosemary, you, Lou, and Ryan go first."

She walks around the people with Ryan in tow who looks back at Butcher for a moment, before he vanishes through the doors. "Ben take Homelander."

"Like fuck I'm going to leave you-" You turn your glowing eyes on him.

"I will be right behind you, now go."

Ben grits his teeth together, waiting another minute, but finally grabs Homelander around the arm and tugs him from the room glaring at you the whole time and muttering something under his breath.

You glance at MM. "I'm sorry for your loss, I am. I know that nothing can make up for what he did and I know that none of you want to believe me when I say this but, he's changed and he's trying to be better." You sigh. "I didn't want it to be like this."

"Wait you're not going to-" Hughie's eyes are wide and you feel Butcher take a step towards you as if he's going to stop you.

"No. Y'all don't deserve that. And I like to think that I'm still a good person. But-" You let out a breath. "I swear on my life that we won't disappear. I swear that I will do my upmost to help him and make sure that no one else gets hurt. And I'm sorry that it turned into this, but I hope that you believe me." Your expression hardens. "Because the next time you come and threaten my family or me again, I won't be forgiving and you won't walk away."

You drop the hold you have on their bodies when you make it to the elevator where your family and Homelander waits for you and you hope that they've chosen not to follow.

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

"So, what do I owe you for this one?" You ask Grace Mallory, as you stand on the dirt road, surveying the Upstate New York countryside. The fields on either side of the roads were filled with waist high grass that rustled in the wind blowing from the East, wicking the sweat on the back of your neck.

The sun was rising on the horizon and it had taken most of the night to get out of the city to meet her there. It had been a long drive, but the car you'd stolen was working, for now. Rosemary, Lou, and Ryan, were asleep in the back seat and Ben were standing at your side. When Mallory had received your call she didn't sound surprised. You knew that she probably figured you would need her especially with the revelation of Soldier Boy's reappearance. She knew that you had unfinished business with him and that he'd try to find you.

She looks different than she did the last time you saw her years ago. Her hair is now more gray than blonde, pulling free from the severe bun at the back of her head. Her dark colored suit is sharp, pristene, and freshly ironed.

You'd met her in the weeks that followed Ben's supposed death, when Legend and you were planning your disappearance. You didn't know why she helped you make a fake ID and smuggle you out of the city, but she had. The favor you owed her had been collected when Rosemary went off to college, a little supe problem that Mallory's team couldn't handle. Off the books of course. You hadn’t been recognizable and you knew that no one would be able to find you.

"I'll send you my bill." Her smile is tight-lipped, but it's still there. You knew she hated supes, and sometimes you think that she tried to hate you, but you were too much alike.

"The same I'm guessing."

"Maybe." She shrugs watching the other officers escort Homelander into the vehicle.

His nose didn't look much better, it was swollen and purple because no one had set it, and he was wearing a pair of gym shorts and an oversized t-shirt that said "Ask Me About My Cats" on it. It was all you could find at the gas station Ben had stopped at in the middle of nowhere. Technically all of you had to change, especially Rosemary who's clothes were still riddled with holes and with blood splatter. You had a few splashes of blood from Noir, but not nearly as much as her. You knew that the two of you would talk about what happened to her soon, but not right now.

A bird soars overhead and joins another on the power lines hanging above the street, squawking as it settles down.

"Figures. Can't we just call this a favor for an old friend?"

"I guess I should be thanking you. Taking down Homelander, that's pretty impressive. Can't believe Butcher let you walk away with him like that." Mallory says, pressing her lips into a tight line.

Her eyes flick to where Ben is standing beside you. He hadn't said much since he pulled up, still trying to take in everything that had happened last night. You knew she wasn't ecstatic about seeing him again, the last time she saw him she'd told you about after you'd helped her out with her little supe problem and she'd asked you to join her for a beer. You didn't drink it, but you'd sat with her anyway.

When she'd gotten out of the car as you pulled up you'd heard him mutter "is that captain lesbo?" under his breath and it was the first time you'd genuinely laughed since everything happened at Vought tower.

Honestly, you felt kinda heavy on your feet. The stale gas station coffee had done little to boost your energy level and neither had the protein bar that Ben forced you to eat because he said you needed to eat something.

I better get a long vacation after this.

"He wasn't on board, but I convinced him. His team also took some convincing." You frown remembering exactly what you'd had to do to let you walk away, but you didn't feel bad about it. You knew that it was the way things had to be to keep your family safe. "You're not going to tell him about this are you?"

"Maybe. Not for a while though. I'll give him some time to cool down, have a cup of tea, let things settle." Mallory taps a text message on her phone. "It definitely changes things though."

"What does?"

"A cure for being a supe." She eyes Ben for a second. "Word gets out that's not going to be good."

"Believe me I know." You sigh.

You were trying not to think about the revelation of Lou's powers. You hadn't told Mallory that Lou was the one that took down Homelander, nor would you ever. You'd take that to your grave and if Butcher knew what was good for him so would he. You'd destroyed all video evidence on your way out of the Tower, but you were still afraid that someone, somewhere knew something that they shouldn't. Lou had woken up for a little bit on the drive and seemed more like herself after she drank some chocolate milk and ate some dry cereal, than she had when she used her powers earlier.

She just needs to get used to it. We all went through that when we got our powers. But things are never going to be the same though.

Ben nudges your arm with his shoulder as if he's trying to reassure you that he's there and you're not going through this alone. When you glance up at him, you see the corner of his lips twitch into a smile for just a half-second before going back to his stoic expression.

They really aren't going to be the same.

"Don't worry. I'll try to keep it on the down low as long as I can." She shrugs.

Homelander waves once at Ben and you as he is placed into the black Tahoe. The entire trip upstate he had tried to ask more and more questions while Ben drove, but you didn't want to answer him, didn't want to form a bond with him, not when he was acting completely different. You didn't want to get attached, because one day when he remembered who he was and what he had done you were going to kill him.

Ryan hadn't tried to answer his father's questions. You honestly were surprised that he had come with you willingly, he didn't know any of you, but he didn't complain. Plus you'd bought him a pack of state capitals and abbreviations flashcards at the gas station and he'd busied himself with running through the flashcards as fast as he could.

"Do you think he's really forgotten?" Mallory asks you.

"I don't know." You reply honestly. "I think so. But he was backed into a corner, and this may have been his only way out. He didn't like that we weren't accepting him."

"Hmm." Mallory exhales out a breath. "Just makes all of this more difficult I guess."

"It's always difficult." You sigh just as heavily.

"Yeah. Seems like it."

"At least the fucker doesn’t have any powers." Ben adds. "What are you going to do with him anyway?"

"Lock him up, see if they can jog his memory." Mallory examines Homelander as he looks through the darkened windows of the Tahoe at the three of you, still smiling. "I'll let you know if it comes back."

"Thank you Grace."

"Sure. You owe me though."

"I know." You pull absentmindedly on the end of the bright pink shirt that you had to change in to at the gas station, because your other one had Noir's blood on it. "Try to give me a little time first okay?"

"Of course." She reaches out to shake your hand and then shakes Ben's. Mallory turns to walk towards her car, before she stops and turns around. "What about Ryan? You want me to take him off your hands too?"

Ben glances back at the car where Ryan is fast asleep, his head leaning against the window, hair fanning out against the glass. "No. I think he'd be better with us."

"With Homelander the way he is, Ryan should be safe now." You look back at Grace. "Rosemary has an extra bedroom in her apartment, she can take him."

"You sure your cousin can handle a supe with his kind of powers?" Mallory raises an eyebrow referring to Rosemary as your cousin as she always does. Though you believed she knew better and just never said anything.

"Yeah. I think she's got it. Plus Ben and I live in the city too. I have an extra room in my apartment, but I just need to clean it out before he can stay with us. Ryan will be safe and maybe he'll be able to have a normal life." The thought was comforting. You didn't know too much about Ryan's background, but thought that maybe he would benefit from having a normal schedule in his life and have a normal life away from being a supe. Of course you were already thinking about ways Butcher could be in his life. It was obvious how much Butcher cared about him and how much Ryan looked up to Butcher.

You were going to call him when you got back into the city. You also supposed that you could have told him about Mallory, but when you and Mallory started working together you had both decided to keep it to yourself, saw that it was better this way.

"Alright." Mallory turns back to walk towards the car. "See you in ten years." She jokes.

When the car pulls away and drives down the street, Homelander waves at Ben and you again as you stand there leaning against the hood of the SUV you stole to get out of the city. It was easy to steal cars when all you needed to do was telekinetically turn it on.

"You didn't tell me you knew Captain Lesbo." Ben says.

"Don't call her that." You snort. "I owe a lot to her, she helped me get away from Vought."

"Why?"

"No idea." You lean your head against Ben's shoulder, listening to the cawing of the birds and feeling the wind pull and tug at your hair as if trying to ask you to play. It was a nice day, warm, but not too hot.

"Tired?"

"Mhmm."

Ben presses a kiss to the top of your head, holding you closer to him for a few precious seconds, his arm squeezing around your shoulders. "Come on Sweetheart. Let's go home." He murmurs into the top of your head.

"Home?" You murmur looking up into his green eyes, cupping his bearded cheek.

Ben's eyes are bright in the sunshine, the same color they were the day you painted him at the park all those years ago with paint splattered fingers and skirts. But it doesn't feel like any time has passed. It still feels like him and you walking the streets of Philadelphia together with warm pretzels, him crawling through your window to escape the rest of the world, him and you soaking up the sunshine along the bank of a pond, him and you drinking sour beer in a bar and singing all the way home, him and you dancing in a ballroom with the lights twinkling above, and him and you and falling asleep in the same bed bodies entwined. He's still your Ben even after all these years. You knew every smile line, every frown line, every freckle, every dimple, every dip and curve of his handsome face. His arm is still heavy around your shoulders, comforting and familiar.

"I'm already there Ben."

Ben brings his hand up to hold your cheek, the rough pad of his thumb tracing along the curve of your cheekbone. You were more beautiful than he remembered, leaving him breathless each time you smiled at him. His eyes trace the frown lines, the smile lines, the scrunch between your eyebrows, the smile on your face, and down to the parts of you that you believe are imperfections. Someone so familiar to him that he was sure he would never forget, and yet looking at you always felt like the first time, like he was a drowning man and you were the first breath of fresh air. He still saw the pieces of you he knew growing up, the girl whose hair caught fire in the sun when you painted him by a pond that was probably dry and gone, the girl who smiled at him every time he crawled through her window to escape the rest of the world, the girl who refused to let him be alone, the girl who protected him and defended him, the girl who saw all the parts of him he tried to hide from the world, and the girl who made him feel loved for the first time in his life. "Good, because I'm not going anywhere sweetheart, for as long as I live, I promise to be here."

"I'll hold you to that Benjamin."

"Forever?"

"Forever."

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

A/N: Whew! Big chapter. Lots to take in I know!! But also really fun last moments that I just loved writing. I'm not gonna lie I was tearing up a little bit in that final scene. These characters have just meant so much to me to write. There is one more chapter coming! I know this one kinda felt a little bit like a wrap up, but the Epilogue is coming next. Stay tuned!

As always, thank you so much for reading and for all the love and support! If you'd like to be added to the taglist for this series let me know! I know that there's only one chapter of the series left, but I will transfer it to the One-shot fics I have planned for them. 😊

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[ikilledyvette]

(Part II of my seriously condensed 9-1-1 fic is here! Hope people enjoy, even though it's all a bit rushed!)

Part I

Sunday afternoon, Father’s Day. It’s always a hard day for Bobby, but usually, working helps him get through it. Today has been ... worse, and not just for him. Bobby finds Eddie on the couch, staring blankly into nothing. Bobby sits down beside him, a silent invitation to talk. Eddie doesn’t always take him up on it.

Today, Eddie says, “He hasn’t called,” and Bobby reminds him the day isn’t over yet. Eddie asks, “What if he doesn’t call?” and Bobby reminds him about tomorrow, and the day after that, and the day after that. 

“Every day you’re both alive is another chance to make things right,” Bobby says. “Don’t give up on tomorrow just yet, Eddie.”

Buck comes by then, and Eddie takes off to give the two some space. Buck says, “So, I had dinner with my parents the other night.” Bobby asks how it went, and Buck says, “Yeah, not great. They had, uh. A lot to say about me, you know. Going through a gay phase, or something. Wanting attention. Getting too old for, I don’t know. Making stuff up, I guess.”

Bobby nods. Cautiously, he says, “Sounds to me like they still don’t know you very well.”

Buck huffs a quiet laugh. “Yeah. Thing is, everything they said ... it’s all stuff I’ve thought too, you know? Like, I’ve always done stupid things to get people’s attention. Their attention, Tommy’s. Yours. And if ... if what I’m feeling, who I am, is ... is real ... how could I have not known before, right? And I, I do know how I feel about Tommy—I like him so much, Bobby, you don’t even know—”

Bobby knows. Everyone knows. Buck’s joy is not subtle; it shines through him, a thing to behold.

“—but sometimes I still—” Buck breaks off and sighs. “Well, maybe that’s why I reacted so badly last night. Cause sometimes, I worry they’re right.”

“They’re not,” Bobby says immediately.

“How do you know that?”

And Bobby hesitates, not sure Buck is going to want to hear this right now. But still, he says, “Because I know you, kid.”

“Yeah,” Buck says, smiling a little. “You do. Bobby, I’m. I’m sorry.”

“You don’t have to—”

“I do. Cause that night we talked about Tommy? You didn’t ask me to, to explain myself, or suggest maybe I wasn’t thinking things through. You didn’t need me to prove anything. You just accepted it, Tommy and me. You accepted me.” Buck shakes his head. “I told this to Maddie once, but sometimes it’s easier to lash out at the person you know is always going to forgive you. My parents, that’s not them, never will be. But you, uh. You’re safe.”

Bobby swallows a little at that. He wants to be that person for Buck—but Bobby know he isn’t, can’t be. He’s the reason his family is dead; he’s the reason so many people are dead. 

“I know I hurt you,” Bobby says. “If I hadn’t left the way I did, Gerrard would never have been captain, and—”

“You think this is about Gerrard? Maybe you don’t know me as well as you thought.” But Buck’s voice is teasing, lessening the sting. “Yeah, I mean, working under Gerrard was ... rough, for a lot reasons. But that’s not ... Hen was the one mad at you for that.”

Bobby is aware. Hen had forgiven him pretty quickly, but her attitude towards Bobby on his first day back had been ... cool, to say the least. Bobby understands why, had prepared himself for Hen’s anger, potentially Chimney’s, too. They both went through a lot, working under Gerrard the first time around. Bobby had expected them to be upset.

He’s not sure why he hadn’t expected Buck to be.

“I’m not mad about Gerrard,” Buck tells him. “I’m mad that you lied. You—you were saying goodbye all day, only we didn’t know, I didn’t know. And you just—you were just going to leave?”

“I didn’t want—”

“You didn’t want us to change your mind,” Buck says, now visibly upset. “You—you said goodbye, Bobby. I didn’t realize it then, what you were doing, but—if you were gone, if you left, and I could have done something to stop it, stop you from, from—"

And Bobby realizes suddenly that Buck isn’t just talking about Bobby quitting.

“Hey,” Bobby says. “Listen. I’m not going anywhere, okay?”

“For how long?” Buck asks, and it’s not mockery this time. It’s pleading. Anxious. Young. For as much Buck has been through, for as much progress he’s made over the last seven years, Bobby is struck every now and then by how young Buck still is.

“That’s not up to me,” Bobby says and points up, skyward, at the man upstairs. “And listen, Buck, I won’t deny I was ... I was in a pretty dark place a couple of months ago. I should’ve been more honest about that. But I’m here, and I mean to stay here as long as I can. Okay? I’m not going anywhere without a fight, I promise.”

Buck inhales, a deep, shuddery breath, and Bobby hugs him, and Buck hugs Bobby back. 

“I’m sorry,” Buck says again. “I think, maybe. I think I’ve just been really scared.”

Bobby hugs him a little tighter and says, “I’ve got you. I’ve got you, kid.”

Footsteps on the stairs interrupt them a few minutes later. “Not to break up this long overdue moment,” Chimney says, “but Buck, you’ve got another visitor.”

Buck turns with a little dread, expecting his parents and not sure he’s ready to face them just yet—but it’s Maddie. This time, it’s Bobby and Chimney who disappear downstairs to give the Buckley siblings some space.

Maddie tells Buck that their parents are flying home. “I told them to go,” she says. “And not to come back.”

“Chimney told you,” Buck realizes, resigned and more than a little annoyed.

“Of course, he did,” Maddie says. She’s slightly exasperated but mostly worried. “Why didn’t you?” 

She thinks he’ll say something about not wanting to ruin Maddie’s relationship with their parents or Jee Yun’s relationships with her grandparents, and Buck does lead with that. But mostly, Buck’s ashamed of how he petty it was, bringing up Daniel. “I didn’t want you to think that I, I resented him,” he says. “I really don’t, Maddie. He was just a kid, and he never got the chance to grow up and, and I wish I could’ve given him that chance. I wish I could’ve met the person he would’ve become.”

“I know,” Maddie tells him, and reminds him that it’s not his fault; it was never his responsibility to save Daniel. Buck says he doesn’t blame their mom for slapping him after what he said, and Maddie, steely, says, “Well, I do. For that, and also for how they talked to you—no, it’s not okay. What if Jee grows up and realizes she likes both boys and girls someday? I don't want Mom talking to her like that. Do you?"

Buck recoils a little, and Maddie nods. “Would you be okay if Mom ever hit Jee Yun?” she asks. “Even if she said something terrible? Even if she deserved it?”

“She could never deserve it,” Buck says, knowing what Maddie’s doing but unable to keep quiet, not when his sister looks so upset, not with the ghost of Doug so heavy in the air. He hates to think of how many times Doug must have told Maddie that she was to blame for everything he did to her. “But Maddie, I don’t think Mom or Dad would ever—”

“Maybe not,” Maddie says, “but that doesn’t make them safe. They screw up, and they always feel bad about it, but they never really apologize. They never put in the work. They just ... make excuses and expect that we’ll forgive them, but I think I’m done with that now. I’m done with relationships where it’s only my responsibility to try harder, to smooth things over, to say the right thing, to always forgive. Maybe someday, if Mom and Dad actually work on themselves, but for right now ..." Maddie shakes her head. "Enough is enough.”

Buck gets that, he does. But he admits he isn’t sure he’s ready to cut off his parents yet, isn’t sure he wants too. He still wants to keep trying, and Maddie says that’s okay. What matters is, they still have each other. And she won’t try to change his mind if he doesn’t try to change hers.

Buck offers her a pinky swear. Maddie smiles and hooks her finger around his.

*

Meanwhile, downstairs, a phone rings.

“Christopher?” Eddie says, and takes a few steps, turning away from everyone. 

It is Christopher. He calls to wish his dad a happy Father’s Day, but also to say he loves him, and while he’s not quite ready to come home yet, he still wants to come home, and maybe soon.

“I miss you,” Christopher tells him. “I don’t want to miss you anymore. But you have to stop lying to me.”

“I can do that,” Eddie promises.

“And go back to therapy.”

Eddie laughs. “Already on top of that one, bud. Maybe ... we could go together, sometime, when you come home?”

“Yeah,” Christopher says. “I’d like that. I love you, Dad.”

“Love you too, Chris,” Eddie says. He hangs up, takes a breath before turning around, and announces, “Christopher called!" as if everyone—including Maddie and Buck, leaning over the balcony—weren’t badly pretending not to eavesdrop.

Everyone cheers and rushes Eddie. 

“What did I tell you?” Bobby asks him. “What did I tell you?” Hen asks, too, and Eddie says, “Yeah, yeah,” to both of them, with wet eyes and a shaky, hopeful smile.

“This calls for champagne!” Chimney announces. “But since we’re all on duty ... cheap coffee and leftover Ding Dong, Gerrard is Gone cake it is!”

—All in all, it’s the best Father’s Day the 118 has had in a long, long time. 

(And that's it! Apologies, fellow Tommy fans, that he didn’t make it into Part 2—but you know. If Tommy’s at the fire house, who’s flying the plane? Actually, Tommy’s too busy babysitting Jee Yun, and—to both Buck and Chimney’s horror—introducing her to all the worst Star Wars movies. She loves them.)

Tag List @lavenderleahy @v88sy

[theshippirate22]

hi welcome to my essay

is this based solely in my insane brainrot? yeah probably. i’m doing it anyway

THE TIME TAYLOR SWIFT CONFIRMED ANDERPERRY LORE

This is Josh Charles

If you don’t know who he is, that’s cool. No one does. If you do know who he is, you’re probably gay, depressed, or both. Probably both.

And this is Josh Charles in 1989, in the critically acclaimed, cult classic film Dead Poets Society

Does he look familiar? Well, if you’re big on pop culture and/or a Swiftie, he should

Because THIS is Josh Charles in 2024

in Taylor Swift’s Fortnight music video

But who’s that standing next to him?

It’s Ethan Hawke

Who ALSO starred in Dead Poets Society (1989)

Kind of weird right? But whatever

UNTIL you remember that Fortnight is the first track off the latest Taylor Swift album

called The Tortured Poets Department

Now, the premise of the music video is that Taylor was in love with Post Malone’s character but only for a fortnight and losing him after loving him is what drove her into madness basically, so she’s been imprisoned in this asylum called The Tortured Poets Department where Josh Charles and Ethan Hawke are doctors that are experimenting on her to help her get over her love for Post Malone. Note that Post Malone is also there and is another one of the doctors.

Canonically in Dead Poets Soceity Josh Charles’ character Knox Overstreet is in sort of this awkward situationship with a girl named Chris Noel, who’s “practically engaged” to this idiot called Chet and it's assumed that after everything goes down at the end of the film, Knox stops pursuing her and Chris marries Chet to live out her horrific 1950's housewife prophecy.

Similarly, Ethan Hawke’s character, Todd Anderson, is in this tragic queer-coded homoerotic friendship with main protagonist Neil Perry (played by the lovely Robert Sean “Bobby” Leonard) that never manages to come to fruition because of Neil’s untimely death via suicide.

So back to Taylor. Obviously she's a patient in The Tortured Poets Department being treated for her hopeless love for Post Malone. She says she even took the "magical move-on drug" but "the effects were temporary," which implies that what Josh and Ethan are testing on her is this drug, this cure-all for lost romance, and they haven't quite figured it out.

Which makes perfect sense, when you think about what happened to Knox and Todd. They had these short-lived perfect loves with Chris and Neil respectively that ended before anything could ever happen. Love cut too short, just like Taylor and Post Malone. Which is wild when you realize that means TS basically just confirmed anderperry.

Not only this, but in the movie, the boys are encouraged to write and enjoy poetry thoroughly, and while all the boys take it to heart, Knox and Todd are the ones that are frequently seen actually writing poetry. Knox uses it to try and win Chris over, as well as working through his feelings for her, while Todd uses it as a guilty pleasure sort of thing that he's seemingly embarrassed by (which I could talk about for 25 pages but I'll spare you.)

So basically, just like Taylor, Knox and Todd are also tortured poets. Which means not only are they the doctors trying to come up for a cure for their own maladies, they're also patients in the Tortured Poets Department

THEY'RE JUST AS CRAZY AS TAYLOR.

If that seems too big a stretch, remember that Post Malone is there. From his bridge we see that he's going through the same thing as Taylor except on the opposite side, and he's also seen in the poetry room with Taylor, confirming that he himself is a poet as well, and in the lab he's also a doctor. So Josh and Ethan are patients just as much as Post Malone is, who's just as much as Taylor.

All four of them are locked in together, trying to get over these lost loves they are mourning.

By deliberately choosing not just Ethan Hawke to cameo, but also Josh Charles, and not say Dylan Kussman or Gale Hansen, or even MAIN STAR Bobby Leonard, it draws a direct parallel between Knox and Todd's characters, and therefore between Chris and Neil, and therefore, Taylor Swift has basically confirmed the ongoing implication that anderperry was the metaphor all along.

[scotfraweek]

It’s here guys! The long awaited list for ScotFra Week! Thank you to those of you who voted on the poll/form

I hope you guys like the list I created. I had to really think this through and really decide how I wanted to organize the Themes/Prompts in a way that would not only make sense but that would be interesting and bring out your creative and imaginative ideas to the event.

Now without any further ado, here they are

🌹Day 1 - October 20

Soulmates / Reincarnation

“Maybe we make it in another universe/life”

“Have we met before?”

High School Sweethearts

Differences Attract

❤️Day 2 - October 21

Humanverse VS Fantasy

“We can build something new, for us.”

“Have you ever wondered, of what could’ve been?”

Long-Distance Relationship

🌹Day 3 - October 22

A/B/O or Pirates/Merfolk

“I was here first!”

“Is this what you want?”

Unplanned Pregnancy

Jealousy

❤️Day 4 - October 23

✨F R E E D A Y✨

Anniversary

🌹Day 5 - October 24

Horror / Supernatural (In honor of Halloween)

“Why is there so much blood?!”

“So everything you said was a lie?”

There was only one bed

Serial Killer/ Haunted House

❤️Day 6 - October 25

Artist/Fan or Detectives

“There was a slight miscommunication”

“You’ve never done this before, have you?”

Love = Weakness

Rivalry

🌹 Last Day - October 26

Angst/Hurt or Post Apocalypse

“Do you remember when…?”

“I trusted you!”

Character Death/Still Alive

The End of the World

🌹 Of course if you guys would like, you can mix and match. If a prompt from a different day fits your idea for one of the Themes, you are more than welcome to use it. You also can use more than one prompt if you wish as well!

❤️ Art, fics/one-shots and moodboards are all welcomed. Anything that you can use to express your imagination and creativity

✨How to submit your works✨

Just tag the account @scotfraweek as well as the #/ScotFraWeek2024 with your submission/post

✨R U L E S✨

Yes, there are rules guys… please follow them

I will not tolerate any bashing of other Hetalia Characters even if it is for the sake of your idea. Please be respectful of the other characters, I don’t want any fan-wars bc someone’s blorbo was bashed

Try to keep politics and actual life events to a minimum, no need for there to also be any actual hate/fighting during the event amongst participants.

I will say this only once, please to not use other artist’s/writer’s work to enter the event. All work must be solely yours. If someone calls you out for plagiarism, I will NOT be defending you, you’re on your own for that

Please, please, PLEASE, and I can NOT stress this enough, but absolutely no AI can be used for your submissions. Once again, all works must be unique and original. If your work requires AI, then it is NOT original. I will not reblog your work if i get the slightest hint of AI work, and believe me, I can tell

Please keep comments on other participants work friendly. Respect the other participant’s submissions for the event. If you do not like someone’s work for whatever reason — Block the user. I will not stand for any hate/bullying in other people’s post because their work did not meet your expectations. This also goes for spectators who will not be submitting work of their own.

Finally, have fun! This event is about showing love and creativity for the french bastard and his ginger himbo hubby. Bring out your creativity and your best suit!

Late submissions will still be accepted up to 3 days after the event is over!

‼️If you feel like another participant’s work is breaking the rules or is offensive towards you or anyone else, be sure to let me know so proper actions will be taken

📫The account’s inbox will be open for any questions or even ideas that you have in regards of the event!

💔I genuinely do apologize, I had truly intended to have this out a few days ago, but … things happen. I hope you are not too mad or upset with me

🤍 Can’t wait to see all your guy’s works next month, see you then!

@hetaliacalendar if you wouldn’t mind reblogging for a little signal boost pls 😭