#but now SHE is not reading my directions and doing things wrong and getting mad and HE is not reading her emails before sending

[six-of-ravens]

this client is strongly giving me the impression that the only Americans who can read are the like 10 I interact with online

[worldlxvlys]

running

part seven of the CRUSH series

bsf! matt sturniolo x reader

warnings: angst, cursing, mentions of sex

a/n -> read the previous part for context !!

ever since the day he apologized, matt had been acting weird. there was a very obvious tension between us, but neither of us said anything about it. his brothers on the other hand, were quick to point it out.

“ok, what’s up with you two? did you fuck again, or something?” chris asked, earning a quick hit and an incredulous look from nick. matt just rolled his eyes, answering with a brief “no”, before turning in the direction he came from.

he was distant and quicker to anger than he usually was. it seemed like the smallest things set him off, he was just so mad. his recent attitude has made me quite distant myself because being around him wasn’t very enjoyable.

he had his moments where he seemed like his usual self, but for the most part, he was miserable. of course i was aware that this was partially my fault, as right after our conversation about the night we slept together his entire demeanor changed.

i felt terrible, and i wanted nothing more than to help him feel better. but i tried to figure out what was wrong, and he just pushed me away. i wanted to be there for him, but he was a grown man at the end of the day. if i did or said something to upset him, he needed to communicate what that was.

so for the past week, we didn’t hang out unless it was with his brothers. we barely spoke two words to each other, and he couldn’t even look at me on the rare occasion that we did. i tried not to let it get to me, but he was supposed to be my best friend. now he couldn’t even be around me ?

MATT’S POV

just when i think i can’t possibly make things worse than they already are, i prove myself wrong. i somehow managed to completely drive y/n away, and now i couldn’t even look at her.

every time i saw her, i felt the shame and guilt eat away at me. i’ve treated her terribly for the past week, and now she couldn’t stand being around me.

at first i just wanted a little bit of distance, because i knew that the second i felt her soft fingers on my face or watched her plump lips pull into a smile, i would be gone. she’s constantly running through my thoughts, and i have no way of stopping it.

every day chris made these sly comments about how i should make a move on her before someone else did, and that pissed me off. his words constantly rang through my ears, and it made me paranoid.

every time she smiled at her phone and typed away at her screen, which was happening a lot more often recently, i got more and more annoyed. i did my best to push it down and ignore it, but it always seemed to make things worse.

whether she was talking to someone or not, she was growing more and more distant by the day. i found myself missing her when she was in the same room as me, which made me realize just how bad i let the situation get.

i decided to go over to her house to talk to her, knowing i had to clear the air. and that’s how i ended up here, standing at her doorstep anxiously, trying to gain the confidence to knock.

before i could force myself to do it, her door swung open. i must’ve looked like a deer in headlights, my eyes widened as she caught me off guard. she let out a chuckle at that, “i saw you on the doorbell camera, i thought i’d just make this easier for you”

well that’s embarrassing. “you saw that whole thing?” i asked, hoping it wasn’t true. when she nodded her head in response, i closed my eyes shaking my head slightly as i cursed myself. “it’s ok, matt. it was cute” she spoke, a small smile on her face.

i felt my face heat up while i prayed she didn’t notice the deep shade of red that my face turned at the comment. “come on” she motioned to the inside of her house, choosing not to comment on my flustered state.

READER’S POV

when i moved to the side to let matt in, i caught sight of a small paper bag in his hand while he passed me. he led the way to my room, pushing my door open and making himself comfortable on my bed.

“i was thinking we do a movie night?” he asked hopefully, emptying the bag of its contents; an array of different candies, snacks, and a drink for each of us.

whenever matt and i had a disagreement, our way of calling a truce was to have a movie night. we would take the time to talk it out and end off the night with cuddles and a movie.

“sounds perfect” i told him, grabbing the remote and moving to sit across from him. i passed him the remote when i felt my phone buzzing in my pocket. i pulled it out, opening it to see a text from the guy i’ve been talking to for the past week.

dylan 🤠

hey beautiful ;)

what are you up to ??

y/n ⭐️

abt to watch a movie with matt !!

“what movie should we watch?” matt asked, but i was barely able to register his words as i read the next text.

dylan 🤠

matt is your best friend right ?? i thought he wasn’t talking to you ??

y/n ⭐️

yeah movie nights are kinda like our way of calling a truce yk ??

dylan 🤠

ohhh i get u

y/n ⭐️

wbu ??

dylan 🤠

oh yk just texting this girl rn

a lil nervous tho ngl, she’s drop dead gorgeous

wayyyy out of my league

“hellooo? you gonna sit there and text all night or are we ever gonna talk?” matt’s annoyed voice pulled my attention away from my phone.

“hold on, i’m talking to someone right now. just give me a sec” i spoke, looking back down to my phone.

y/n ⭐️

who could you possibly be talking about 🤨

dylan 🤠

your mom :)

y/n ⭐️

that wasn’t funny

dylan 🤠

i laughed

y/n ⭐️

well that makes one of us

i watched as the three dots moved on the screen, before my phone was roughly pulled out of my hand. “what the fuck, matt ? give it back” i yelled as he moved it out of my reach.

i quickly moved over to him, climbing over his body to reach for the phone. he was quick to throw my phone onto my carpeted floor, grabbing my wrists before i could move to get it.

“who was that?” he asked, looking up at me. “none of your damn business” i answered. “considering you’re too busy looking down at your phone to talk to me, i’d say it is”

i let out a dry chuckle at that, “now you wanna talk ? that’s new. usually you just bottle up your feelings and throw a hissy fit instead of telling me what the issue is” i spoke, glaring down at him. my phone vibrated on its spot in the floor, but i ignored it.

“why are you trying to pick a fight?” he asked, eyebrows furrowed. “i’m not, this is what it looks like when you act like an adult and talk about things. i know that might be a little foreign to you” i jeered, his face dropping at the comment.

when i heard my phone vibrate again, i went to go pick it up, but was stopped as matt’s hands gripped onto my waist firmly, pulling me down onto his lap.

“look, i obviously hurt you and i’m really sorry for that-” he started, stopping as my phone continued to vibrate on the floor. “who the hell is blowing up your phone like that?” he started, starting to become annoyed again.

“it’s no one” i answered.

“who is it?” he posed his words as a question, but it sounded more like an order.

“nobody”

“why are you lying?” he asked, receiving a sigh from me. he just wasn’t gonna let it go.

“it’s just this guy i’m talking to” i answered. before i could even process what was happening, matt had flipped us over so that he was the one one top.

“what’s his name?” matt asked, his hands tightly clenching the sheets on either side of my head. my eyes trailed down to his tatted arm, watching as it flexed when he shifted his weight onto it.

“his name doesn’t matter” i answered, willing myself to look anywhere but at his lips. it was tempting, the short distance between us making it hard to focus on anything else.

“is there anything you can tell me about him?” matt asked.

“yeah. he’s not confused.” i answered without thinking, the words slipping out before i could stop them. “he’s made his feelings for me clear” i finished.

“his feelings? he’s only known you for…what, a week?” he asked, tilting his head at me. “he knows what he wants matt” i shrugged, “do you?” i asked.

the question seemed to catch him off guard, as he didn’t utter a word. instead, his eyes dropped down to my lips for a split second, jumping back to my own eyes quickly.

“don’t do that” i stopped him, “don’t look at me like you want to kiss me. we both know you don’t” i told him, turning my head away from him.

he was quick to place his hand on my cheek, moving my face so i was looking at him while he spoke. “why would you think that?” he asked, his eyes softening.

“why would you keep running away from me if you did?” i asked, trying my best not to show how hurt i actually was. i blinked back the tears i felt beginning to form, taking a deep breath.

matt picked up on my shift in mood, immediately moving to sit next to me. “fuck, i’m sorry. i’m sorry” he whispered repeatedly, pulling me into a hug. “it’s not on purpose, i swear. and it’s definitely not your fault, the last thing i ever wanted was to hurt you” i cried silently in his arms, his hands squeezing my waist tightly.

he pulled away to look at me, wiping away my tears with his thumbs. “is there something wrong with me?” i asked, needing an answer to the question i’d been asking myself constantly throughout the week. why? why was he avoiding me like the plague? what did i do to deserve this?

“of course not. this is my fault, it’s not you. i’m just confused and i have no clue what to do. i don’t know what i want, and i didn’t know how to deal with-” he stopped abruptly, like he was about to slip up and say something he didn’t want me to hear.

“i just didn’t want to hurt you while i was figuring out my shit, so i distanced myself from you. i know it was wrong, but i didn’t know what to do. and then i realized you were talking to someone and it just made me so mad, but i shouldn’t have taken it out on you”

“you’re jealous? matt, it’s not like he’s replacing you. he’s just a new friend” i pointed out. “i’m right here, i’m still your best friend. and you can always talk to me about anything. you know that, right?” i asked.

“yeah, i know. but are you sure you’re just friends? you said he has feelings for you” matt spoke, looking down as he spoke the last sentence. “is he the only one?” i asked bluntly, tired of beating around the bush.

matt’s head snapped up at the call-out, his lips turning upwards into a small smile. “i-” he was cut off by his phone ringing in his pocket. he looked like he wanted to continue, but i stopped him, “just answer it, it’s ok” i nodded to him, watching him pull it out.

“it’s chris” he sighed out, before hitting the answer button. while he spoke to chris, i heard my own phone vibrate on the ground. i glanced over to matt, who was fully engrossed in his conversation, before grabbing it off of the floor.

i opened it to several unopened texts from dylan, but the last one is what stood out to me;

dylan 🤠

hey, you home? i’m at your door ;)

what the fuck? he knew i was home, i told him that matt and i were having a movie night.

i glanced over to matt, as he hung up the phone. “he was just asking if i wanted anything from target” he informed me, putting his phone down.

he noticed my widened eyes, his face filling with concern, “what’s wrong?” he asked, walking towards me and placing a gentle hand on my shoulder.

“um, my….uh-” i was cut off by the sound of the doorbell ringing. “here, i’ll get it for you” he spoke, walking out of the room before i could stop him.

“wait, matt-” i started, a few feet behind him. by the time i caught up to him, the door was already open, matt and dylan were face-to-face with each other.

“hey, i’m dylan. you must be matt” he almost seemed amused at matt’s confused face.

“hey, baby” he spoke to me, earning a cold stare from matt as he realized who the man in front of him was. his jaw was clenched tightly as he turned his gaze to me, his eyebrows raised.

shit.

hehehe

masterlist

tag list: @lustfulslxt @flowerxbunnie @sturnssx @mattslolita @its-jennarose @sophssturn @bernardsleftbootycheek @queen161718 @cupidsword @imwetforyourmom @nickmillersn1gf @mattsneezing @chrisstankyleg @sturniolobltch @bethsturn @bernardenjoyer @mbbsgf @rac00ns-are-c00l4 @ssturniolo @blueeyedbesson @mxqdii @sturniolowhore @readerakayourname @defnotayonna @urmom2bitch @rootbeerworshiper @starsturniolo @hearts4chriss @theyluv-meee @carolinalikesthings @itzdarling @chrisstopherfilmed @judespoision @sstvrnioloo @littlebookworm803 @nicksdrpepper @chrisloyalgf @robins-scoop @fandomhopped @chr1sgirl4life @bbglmfao @55sturn @nickgetsmewetter @meg-sturniolo @yamamasjumpercables @vanteguccir @ineedchriscock @junnniiieee07 @breeloveschris @luverboychris

[mbsneur]

Last Room Pt.5

Alexia Putellas x Reader

Summary: you hate Alexia but your best friend Salma wants you to get along well with her

Warnings: Fluff,Smut

please read this text before going to the story

please don't be so strict with me but rather write to me what I can do better or what you wished were different. also tell me if you find the story too long or too short.. Also write to me if you liked it. My requests are always open (and English is not my first language so don't be mad at me) and if you have any ideas for the future about who I should write please tell me… the topics I will choose by myself unless you have a request for one or two people I will Read everything.. in the next survey I will take a few ideas from the old survey and new ones…. now read and I hope you like it <33

The next morning you woke up first thing. You opened your eyes slightly. You saw Alexia sleeping peacefully next to you, one of her arms lying lazily on your stomach you need a moment to fully wake up and reflect on the last night a slight smile nestles on your lips and butterflies gather in your stomach. You wanted to check what time it was so that it wouldn't be noticeable and you'd still show up for breakfast on time

You try to pull away from Alexia's arm slightly and she lets out a loud grunt. You feel her slowly waking up and she pulls her arm from your stomach to turn to the other side. You hear her smack her lips softly. You reach for your cell phone 8:05am Luckily it wasn't too late, you thought, since you didn't set an alarm last night

You turn back to Alexia and press yourself tightly against her back. You slowly kiss her hairline

"ale we have to get up, we'll be picked up soon and we still have to have breakfast" you whisper between small kisses

She turns completely towards you in your arms and presses her face against your neck

"We'll get up in 5 minutes please" She says in a moaning tone

The next few minutes you spent scratching Alexia's entire back and head and simply enjoying her closeness

“Alexia, come on now, we really have to get up,” you say, slightly crying, and try to push yourself away from her strong arms

Alexia grunts and lets go of you. You climb over her and out of bed. You go to your suitcase to pick out some fresh underwear and clothes. You feel Alexia literally undressing you with her eyes

“Why are you staring at my ass” you say with a laughing voice and turn around to Alexia

Alexia just shrugs her shoulders and pretends she wasn't looking

“It’s just that your ass fits perfectly in my hand and I have thoughts about it” she winks at you

You roll your eyes playfully and disappear into the bathroom. You brush your teeth, wash your face and tie your hair into a loose ponytail. You have chosen black sweatpants and a basic shirt

When you came out of the bathroom, Alexia was already getting dressed. She was wearing shorts and a black shirt. She smiled at you and came closer to you to stroke your cheek

you bless it with a small smile and shortly afterwards she disappears into the bathroom

You sit down on the bed to take a quick look at your phone

*3 messages from salma*

fuck 9:00am

Salma: where are you?!?!

Salma: did you kill each other or why don't you answer me

Salma: I understand, it was a hot night ;) just hurry up

you answer salma

y/n: Salma, we're almost ready, she just needed a while in the bathroom just wait in front of the door xx

5 minutes later Alexia came out of the bathroom, slightly stressed. She quickly packed the rest of her things into her suitcase to get things in order

"Alexia can you listen to me for a moment"

You say, trying not to stress her out more

“What’s wrong” she says looking directly in your direction and watching how perfectly your lips move

"You have to promise me that you'll behave and we have to act like we still hate each other okay?"

Alexia meets you with a small pout and pulls you close to her by your hips and starts kissing the side of your neck

"I'll behave"

She says laughing because you know full well that Alexia can't behave

You give her a quick kiss and pull away as you scurry past her and she slap you on your ass

“Alexia Putellas Segura behave stop touching me I’m serious” you roll your eyes and let out a small laugh

She trots behind you and you take the room card. When you open the door you are met with the familiar smile of Salma

“Have you had a good night?” Salma jokes lightly

"No, I'm still mad at you, it was sheer horror, I made her sleep on the floor, she's so stressful, she tried to talk to me the whole time."

Salma laughs at you, you playfully hit her on the shoulder. You know full well that she's going to tease you about it for the next few weeks and you're already dreading it

You all have arrived at the elevator and Salma presses the button. Alexia is standing almost next to you and watching you. You look slightly to the side and when Salma looks away you give her a small smile. Alexia is impressed by how well you can lie. Alexia didn't even have to comment

When you reach the bottom floor and go to the buffet, Alexia takes a plate and walks past you. Her fingertips gently stroke your ass. You flinch because you didn't expect the sudden and risky touch

You gently slap her hand away to put her in her place and look at her angrily. She gives you an evil smile. She would have liked to stay in bed with you much longer

You put your breakfast together and just decided on porridge with banana and strawberries and made yourself a cafe. You sit down at the table where Salma and Alexia are sitting

"So we'll be picked up soon and have our make-up put on and our clothes on then we'll go to the event and then we'll fly back this evening" Salma says and looks in your direction. She probably already told Alexia when you were gone

Alexia kicks and pokes you with her feet the whole time and her foot keeps wandering up to your middle. You inconspicuously close your legs. Alexia looks at you with a playful dark look. She just doesn't have enough of you

Alexia looks innocently at her hands as if her foot wouldn't wander between your legs

"I'm going to get a new cafe"

Salma says and goes towards the Buffet

1 second after Salma left, Alexia's hand is under the table between your legs as you blink, her bottom lip is laughing between her teeth

you fidget with your legs and protest against her hand, she pinches you lightly and hits your clitoris

"Alexia, stop it, you really have to behave"

She rolls her eyes in annoyance and removes her hand. She acts like a horny teenager

Salma came back with her cafe and the three of you finished breakfast. About 30 minutes later you were picked up and driven to the location

The trip was relaxed, everyone was busy with themselves and doing their own thing, Alexia was listening to music, Salma was studying for university and you were just swiping around on your phone

After a 40 minute drive you finally arrived. You were warmly welcomed with a glass of champagne and three nice ladies who would do your make-up and dress you

You were shown your clothes. You had a dark blue long dress with a deep neckline that had glitter particles in some places and black heels. You knew that Alexia would fight not to look at you with her mouth open

You were given a long, thick bathrobe over your outfit that you chose this morning

"hey I'm camilla and I'll take care of you, you're y/n right?" The tall blonde woman said to you, meeting you with a friendly smile

“Yes, that’s right I’m pleased to meet you” you smiled back

She placed a large bowl of fruit in front of you to snack on

"Do you have any specific ideas about what I could do or do you want to leave it to me?" she asked

"No I'll leave it to you, I think you know what you're doing" you said

So she started to put make-up on you, not so heavily but still beautifully. She worked with a little concealer, bronzer, blush and highlighter. She did an eye look that highlighted your eye color perfectly. She put a light red tone on your lips with gloss

She made light waves in your hair

After 1:30 hours you were ready and all you had to do was put on your dress. Camilla helped you with that. When you looked at yourself in the mirror you couldn't help but be amazed, the dress fit your figure perfectly and framed the shape of your breasts perfectly

"Woah thanks Camilla, I've never looked so good before" you said, pleased with her work

She smiled slightly at your compliment

You took your handbag, put the most important things in it and wanted to leave the room to check on Salma and Alexia. Alexia was already standing in the hallway. You saw her and your jaw dropped. You fought to get your eyes in order before someone saw you Sees she was wearing a white halterneck dress and her hair was tied in a perfect bun

When she saw your figure, her eyes immediately began to sparkle. She came towards you and you looked around to see that there was no one around

"Do you want to kill me, you look so good oh my-mierda"

You laugh, slightly embarrassed at her, her eyes wandering all over your body, admiring every inch

"Ale you also look amaz-" you were interrupted by a door banging open loudly

You take a step back in shock

"Alexia, my god, how many times have I told you to leave me alone, you're incredibly annoying," you say loudly and annoyed in a way that Salma could hardly miss

Salma laughed as always at your childish behavior

"Chicas let's finally go then we'll have it behind us and stop fighting" said Salma, slightly annoyed and laughing, and went ahead

Alexia walks past you "your tits look good too baby" she whispers to you with a smug smile

These words make your legs go weak and your thoughts become confused. You take a deep breath and run after them. The way to the festival was a short walk that you took with two security men

When you got there you walked over a red carpet, took photos and gave a few interviews. The afternoon was quiet. You had a lot to do with standing on stage and saying something small about the Nike company and talking to friends that you had for a long time you haven't seen anymore

When the food came you looked for your name that was on the tables. Alexia's name was on the sign next to your sign what a coincidence

salma and alexia‘s friends were sitting opposite you like Lucía García and Mariona Caldentey

They talked throughout the meal about football and stuff that Mariona is now playing in London and general things.

"How come you and y/n are sitting together? Was there something you agreed on?" Mariona asked laughing

You pretend you didn’t hear Mariona’s question and Lucia’s laugh

"I don't know she'll probably always be mad at me but unfortunately we couldn't choose our seat so I'll have to sit here" Alexia said and you felt a big hand squeeze your thigh tightly

You didn't want to look over. You couldn't even confront Alexia and tell her to stop

fuck

Alexia's hand goes to you. You're glad that she doesn't have a chance to get under your dress. She continued talking to Mariona and Lucia as if her hand wasn't almost on your pussy

“y/n hello, are you even listening to me” Salma interrupts you from your thoughts

"y-yes" you stutter and want to pull your leg away from alexia's hand but she grabs it hard and pulls it back

Salma continues to tell you about Spain's World Cup celebration. You hope that this evening will be over soon

Alexia's hand just lightly strokes your thigh and after about an hour and a few wine glasses, a brown-haired man comes onto the stage

"I would like to thank you for turning up in such large numbers this evening and getting to know more about Nike and their athletes. I would like to end the evening with this. The bar is still open for those who want to stay a while and I wish the rest of you one Have a nice evening," said the man in a friendly manner and the room began to clap

It was now evening and Salma looked at the clock

"Unfortunately we have to go, our flight is coming soon and we would like to go home today" Salma said, looking at you and Alexia

Alexia removed her hand from your thigh and looked over at you briefly to take in your beauty. Alexia stood up first to say goodbye to the rest

Salma and you did the same. You all hugged and made your way back to the place where your makeup was done because you had to get your bags and wanted to wear something comfortable. You put on your sweatpants from this morning and a fresh shirt

You hurried because it was a 50 minute drive to the airport. You got in the car and were driven. You didn't talk much to each other because you were slightly drunk and just tired

At the airport you checked in your luggage and took a short detour to a shop where you could buy water

When your flight was called you made your way to board

It was a plane where there were only two seats and an aisle in between

Salma offered to sit with you so you didn't have to sit with Alexia but you protested and wanted to give Salma the seat to sit with Alexia. Salma found it a bit strange since yesterday you didn't even want to sleep in the same bed with her and now even wanted to sit next to her

Salma didn't want to discuss any further because she was tired herself and so she just sat down on the 2 seats alone. You sat down on the other 2 seats by the window and Alexia next to you

You got blankets from the flight attendants because it was a bit cold on the plane. Alexia put the blanket over your legs

You tried to relax and actually wanted to sleep a little. A few minutes passed. You had already been in the air for 30 minutes

You suddenly noticed Alexia's hand on your leg again. You immediately looked over to her to give her a warning look

"pshh baby you've been teasing me so much all day today and I'm not allowed to touch you"

She says quietly, sliding further and further towards your waistband You looked at Salma, luckily she fell asleep

Alexia's hand continued to run along the waistband of your pants and you let out a small, heavy noise. You didn't take your eyes off Alexia

“you have to be quiet you understand y/n just trust me”

Alexia says and breathes against your lips that are so desperate for her kisses. Her hand slowly slips into your pants and you whimper. You press your face into the side of the seat to suppress the noises that Alexia elicits from you

You grab Alexia's arm to push it further into your pants. She moves over your underwear and caresses your whole pussy

Your mouth is open and Alexia looks forward so as not to show anything. She now starts to make precise circles around your clitoris. You whimper and nibble on one of your fingers to suppress it as much as possible. Alexia stays in this position until she herself What's certain is that you can stay quiet

Alexia stopped to push your underwear to the side to have more access to you. With her other hand she pulled the blanket a little higher and held it tight

She strokes along your folds and spreads your wetness all over your clitoris

“Alexia please I need more” you said quietly suppressing any noise you made

Alexia went further down with her middle finger and slowly ran it between your folds. She dipped her finger into you, eliciting a small moan from you

She started pumping slowly into you. Your breathing became more irregular and Alexia slowly came closer to you

"You're doing so well just be a little quiet“

you looked at her and watched her lips closely as she said all the good things to you while pumping her finger into you

"You looked so good in your dress, you know that actually, I would have loved to drag you into the nearest toilet and fuck you"

"Mmm did you like it you made me so wet at the table" You say quietly, stuttering because you're afraid you could moan at any moment

Alexia's chin carefully rests on your shoulder

“I need another finger,” you said sheepishly, embarrassed by how common you were on a plane next to the woman you were supposed to hate

Alexia accepted your request and slowly ran her ring finger through your folds and added it to her other finger. You gripped the armrest slightly and stood up briefly

Your head falls deeper into the seat. You take in every feeling, even more intense than last night. Alexia's hot breath close to your skin makes you weak

"You're so wet is that all for me?" she whispers to you

you try to look at her you start to whimper desperately you are so desperate for Alexia's touch

"Just for you, everything you do turns me on you kept my nipples hard all evening ale“

You moan softly and now put your hand on your mouth. Alexia starts curling her fingers and becomes a little faster

"Do you want it like that mh?"

"my clitoris Alexia I beg you" You say with your hand in front of your mouth

"did you really want me to fuck you today or why did you choose this dress" She says in your ear in a rough voice

"I didn't want to upset you I'm just desperate for you please touch my clitoris"

After that sentence Alexia pressed her thumb hard against your clitoris which made you twitch violently. She pressed large circles on it

"fuck alexia just keep going" You whisper quietly afraid that anyone will hear

Alexia gets faster and you're a mess. Alexia knows how to make you come she did it enough times last night

Your eyes roll tightly into the back of your head. You find it hard to suppress the moan. You whisper quietly. Alexia's lips are tight and her circles around your clit become more precise, causing your hips to sway slightly

Your walls cling tightly around Alexia's thick fingers. She fucks deep into your tight pussy. You're afraid that someone might hear the sound of your wet pussy because Alexia doesn't stop going faster

"You're driving me crazy Bebita the way you hold back your moans is driving me crazy" she tells you and you just nod because you don't know how to deal with all these feelings your breath is stuck all that comes out of you is a soft moan

Your stomach walls contract and your pussy becomes tighter. Your hips slam into Alexia's hands and she pushes them down again

"Stay calm Bebita you'll be too loud" Alexia says with a bit of fear in her voice

After a few minutes and strong thrusts, you nervously tap Alexia on the arm

she looks directly at you "ale- l'm close"

She wants to see you when you come, she doesn't stop looking at you, she pushes deeper into you

you let out silent moans and your legs start to shake slightly. you grab her arm that is inside you so that she doesn't have a chance to stop pumping into you

You start to tense up and come hard on Alexia's fingers. You scratch deep into her arm. The orgasm shakes your whole body

"psh psh stay quiet please" alexia says nervous

her fingers slow down and your body begins to relax

you breathe hard and she slowly removes her hand from you and comes up from the ceiling her entire hand is glistening with your juices she knowingly puts her fingers in her mouth and rolls her eyes until you hear the sound telling you to buckle up

fuck. You're glad the flight is over.

i hope you liked it <3

[helloledena]

Uh-oh... I'm falling in love~

Synopsis: Kakashi though he had everything under control, especially his feelings. But one ninja from Village hidden in mist was enough to change that. Oh how wrong he was...

Pairing: Kakashi x Reader (but in Kakashi's pov 🙂‍↕️)

Content: fem! reader, slow burn, strangers to "something" to lovers, light smut, mention of depression, lot's of thoughts, lot's of confusion.

Word count: 8.3k (😬)

A/N: Kakashi's character is so complex and hot and hard to write and hot and tragic but hot, so yeah, love him so much *.*

pervert.

When the saleswoman at his favorite bookstore gave him a raised eyebrow, all Kakashi could do was smile while scratching the back of his head in a manner that reeked of humor.

"I understand why you wanted to read Make-out Paradise… but now even the other two books?"

"What can I say, it really drew me in."

"And.. you say you've read it..."

"Yes, I've read it three times already, I think it's time to find out what happens in the sequel, don't you think? Hahaha" he let his body wiggle a little, and his free eye rolled up into a smile.

"Pervert," the girl muttered as she slid off the counter and went to get more books.

The ninja tiredly scanned the other books on display on the counter. The well-known novel "Life of a shinobi: Honor or Death" caught his eye. With a soft sigh, he picked up the book, turned it upside down, and began to stare at the wall clock that didn't actually work.

He would never admit it out loud, but reading an erotic novel, in which the most exciting thing is actually the various lovemaking positions, had become his new favorite way to distract himself. The distraction from the dead bodies he was cleaning after massacre several months prior; from the feeling of total guilt of allowing Itachi, the boy with soft eyes and always a calm expression on his face Itachi, to go and slaughter everyone in his clan; from death of his friends..

Not to speak of it, he realized that nothing calmed him as much as re-reading the same book with the light and warm plot. The fact that he could relive what he knew would end well gave him a sense of comfort that he hadn't experienced in a long time. Life was bearable again. Just a bit. Just a little bit more, he didn't want to kill himself.

"Your books,"  mumbled the saleswoman into her chin, still clearly under the impression, as she quickly took the money from him "enjoy the rest of your day."

"Thank you. Be sure that I will. Ha! I mean... not in that way..." the now blushing girl looked at him as if he had gone completely mad. He felt his own cheeks slowly warming up "well, anyway... I'm going now. You! You have a nice day... really nice day..."

His smiling aura slid at a moment as he left the shop. He put the third part of “Make-Out” in his shoulder bag, while opening the second one as he walked slowly in an unknown direction. What is he gonna do now? Maybe he should go to get some ramen? But he failed to keep Obito's promise, he couldn't save Rin from death, his father wasn't there to see how much he had progressed. Perhaps he could go back to that cursed rock again. Yeah, that seems like better idea.

"Kakashi!!!" he heard Gai shouting for him from a distance "my eternal rival!!!! Come! Let’s see who can drink more sake before nightfall!!"

But he just continued walking, looking at the first page of the book. He reminded himself that if he does not get involved no one would die because of him. If he doesn't intervene, it wouldn't hurt as much if someone from them died. If he doesn't get involved, perhaps those damn stubborn people would finally realize how truly awful person he is.

When he reached the next corner between streets, he was about to run the rest of the way, but a melodic voice froze him in his tracks.

"Are ninjas in this silly village not taught manners?" He turned and saw a girl leaning against one of the buildings at the corner. How, in the hell, hadn't he noticed her presence before? He decided to let his visible eye wander into a something that seemed like smile.

"I really don’t know what you’re talking about…"

"Pfft" the girl continued to lean her head against the wall, staring at Kakashi with a smirk on her face; her relaxed body language contradicted the words she spoke to him, as if she wasn't intimidated in the slightest "The famous copy ninja Kakashi Hatake, known to all bounty hunters, his name written in more bingo books than can be counted... Yet, you appear to be even more of a creep than the old man who wrote that perversion you're reading"

Kakashi felt strange at her words, gripping his kunai knife tightly in the pocket of his pants. Was she an enemy? He quickly surveyed the area suspiciously as he seemed to be merely searching for a more comfortable way to stand. Hidden Mist Village headband... what the hell?

"Well.." now he was looking cautiously in the direction of the girl "you talk about manners, and you didn't introduced yourself... very hypocritical, don't you think?"

"Hmmm" the girl smiled again, and then pulled out a scroll from her pocket that opened in front of Kakashi "I have permission. And besides, I'm done with my work for now, so I’ll be leaving today. I was just wondering if you really are as cold hearted as everyone says..."

"And?" he looked away from the scroll, returning his gaze to the book that he still held open in his left hand "are they right?"

"I can only say that I'm disappointed" he felt the girl shrug her shoulders "well, see you next time, pervert."

He just hummed. Before he turned and continued walking towards that cursed, stupid rock, he heard the voice again.

"Oh, and did you hear," he looked and she was smiling very widely; something hot filled his stomach "that now the 4th part is being written? I mean, the creepy old man... you already know who I'm talking about."

She winked and disappeared from his sight as silently as she had come. As he continued to observe the now empty space where she had been a second ago, he felt feverishly lucky that he had not learned the girl's name. And if something happened to her, her name would not appear before his eyes in his nightmares.

mercy.

It was the 4th day of the chunin exams and Kakashi couldn't sit and wait any longer. The link with the birds that were relaying information about the happenings had been cut since Orochimaru had magically appeared, then disappeared. He felt nervous. He felt nervous and noticed that it came out in the way he peeled an orange, in the way he would grip the doorknob when he left the room to get some air, and in the way his leg bounced every now and then.

Perhaps he shouldn't have been so harsh with Iruka a few days earlier, saying that his students were now warriors. But he knew that if he had shown even a fraction of the insecurity he felt, his decision would not have carried the authority that now have. So because he wanted his ego to remain intact he left the company of the other jonin, who would probably feel his nervousness at any moment, then climbed onto the roof of the Hokage building and let the sun caress him.

They have the best chance to survive in the shinobi world if they ruthlessly face every obstacle. They have the best chance to survive in the shinobi world if they ruthlessly face every obstacle. I did not send them to their deaths. I did not send them to their deaths. Kakashi repeated those sentences to himself more than he would like to admit.

With big sigh he opened the 3rd book of Make-Out and stared blankly at the pages.

"Hahahaha, wait, wait, you're still reading that nonsense? How long has it been? 4 years?"

His smile curved beyond his will, though she didn't see it because of his mask. He didn't hear her when she got closer to him, like few years prior. How wonderful...

"And who are you?" he looked at her now with his head tilted to the side.

"Oh, that hurts, you know" said the girl with a sneer in her voice, sliding next to him "I know I'm not that *ultra famous* like you are, but we've already met. Plus even I have a target on my head now. These criminals' bingo books, blah blah" and Kakashi was aware of that. When he was in the Land of Waves on a mission with his team, about a month ago, he took Zabuza's bingo book with him. As he flipped through the pages he saw a familiar face, although for a moment he was slightly unsure if it was the girl he met a few years ago. The scar on her cheek was new...

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Name: y/n

Rank: unknown, approach with caution

Village of Origin: A Hidden Mist village, Land of Water

Known Techniques: water manipulation, blood manipulation

Orders: wanted dead or alive

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

"Ah, many new faces lately..." he cooed while watching over village in those quiet moments. How the hell she keep finding him when he is alone? And he didn’t have much alone time since becoming leader od Team 7.

"By the way, your kids are holding up well there, as far as I could see" - now he looked at her "if I hadn't seen other things in my life, I would say that they are very young. But we both know it could have been worse. They'll finish the obstacle... they had that crazy determined look in their eyes about half a day ago."

"Search birds are not working for 3 days now."

"Ah well, we "watermen" don't use birds for surveillance. That's what you should have learned at your sweet little academy."

"The fact that you're not on the organizing team for this exams and yet have your own means of monitoring shouldn't surprise me?" Kakashi knew more than he asked. The ninja of the Village Hidden in the Mist were not at all interested in the official ninja ranking that the other villages held so dearly. They were ruthless warriors, deadly as soon as they left the academy, probably even then at chunin level. Now this is simply gathering information… he was aware of that from the moment the first registration from that village for the chunin exams in the last 7 years came. Only Kakashi wanted to know why…

"You know" the girl now closed her eyes and laid so still for a few minutes that the copy ninja thought she fell asleep "even though the rest of the ninjas in my village are furious because of what happened to Zabuza, I'm very grateful to you. I mean, I really wasn't the least bit touched by anything that happened to that... that.. him. But the way you treated Haku's body…"

Kakashi felt his stomach acid rising in his throat. Haku... another mistake of his. Another victim of chidori that shouldn't have been. Haku had a soul as pure as snow, Haku should have escaped... Haku shouldn't have ended up like Rin.

"In any case" now she opened her eyes, slightly teary, keeping Kakashi rooted in place "you showed mercy that our village has not experienced in a long time. Thank you for that. Especially since it was a boy who was kind."

Kakashi let out a soft breath although to his ears it was almost as loud as a scream. No one had ever seen him that way. No one had ever called him merciful... He felt dizzy... what the hell was this woman doing to him...

"Didn't you say last time that you made sure I'm cold-blooded like everyone says?"

"I think I actually said that I was disappointed. And by disappointed, I meant that I was expecting someone with a dirty aura, and I got something completely opposite."

Kakashi hummed, now loking at the village. But still feeling her eyes on him.

"And didn't you say you don't remember me?"

"Huh. Tushe."

stupid distraction.

Ever since he saw y/n at the time of chunin exams, Kakashi actually, even 6 months later, hasn't stopped seeing her. It turns out that y/n has actually been in high demand in the Lands of Water since last January, with a huge bounty on her head. Words circulated that with her blood manipulation, she forced the Mizukage's own brother to cut himself bit by bit with his blade until he died by his own hand in a pool of blood. Rumor has it that she left a letter written in his blood which said that his death was compensation for the rape of the girls from the Village Hidden in the Mist, one of whom is her cousin. Since blood revenge is completely justified in the villages of more southern longitude, the Mizukage made all the criminals of those villages duty to kill y/n on the spot or bring her alive. That's why she is in all bingo books.

He hadn't heard much about on whose permission she was in Konoha before, but when Tsunade came back and became Hokage she gave y/n asylum and declared her an auxiliary force. It turns out that during the chunin exams, she helped the village a lot in monitoring the enemy even though she didn't have to and therefore Tsunade befriended her very quickly.

What Kakashi really couldn't understand at the begining was how everyone got close to her so quickly. He found himself pretty often following y/n as she moved around Konoha, looking for anything that would make his suspicion justified. He watched when she stops by the market for fresh fruits and veggies, or talks to Kurenai in the street with a big smile, or when she practices her water control by the stream next to half a kilometer from the memorial stone. He wished he could just stand next to her and feel the warmth radiating from her up close again as she squirmed when she talked.

Which was out of the question now, sure, because she didn't want to talk to him anymore. But it certainly didn't stop him from being attracted to her warmth. Of course, it wasn't like that for the whole 6 months, it even seemed to him that she enjoyed being in his company for the first month. She kept popping up, each time making no sound as usual and going on and on about how Naruto had gotten stronger, how Kakashi needed to be more gentle with Sasuke, how maybe it was better for Sakura to learn 1 on 1 new techniques to help her reach personal, not someone else's potential. She told him how in her village she liked to go to the banks of the harbor early in the morning and look for children who were fishing by themselves and to use her "magic" to pull out a few fish. They would laugh and call y/n princess of the sea. With a very serious expression on her face she listed endless crazy reasons why Kakashi could wear a mask and swore in front of everyone present (even though they were actually alone) that one day she would find out what his face looked like. And when she talked she was beautiful.. actually, she was always beautiful. He mostly listened in silence, allowing the warm feeling in his chest to grow little by little with each of their conversations. He realized that he began to take the path to the memorial stone more often where there was a better chance of her jumping out. Once, she even came along with him as far as the stone itself, bowed and stood quietly for a while before whispering "at least you have a place to mourn your loved ones."

 However, that huddled routine that Kakashi looked forward to more than he'd like to admit stopped 10 days after Sasuke disappeared, and he ran into her for the first time after the failed mission. "You shouldn't blame yourself, you did everything you could" she was silent for a few minutes "I don't think you really could have stopped him.. you said yourself that Sasuke was stubborn. If you managed to bring him home, the question is whether he would still want to be a part of the team...". When Kakashi was still silent and tried to turn and leave she spoke again "When I lost my cousin I couldn't sleep for days, I blamed myself and wanted to die. But I realized that what was happening to us was inevitable, if she had survived then maybe the Mizukage would have sent his guards and...” “You trying to cover your guilt with failed excuses shows what person you are like.. I will not live in such a miserable field” when the anger came out of him with that sentence Kakashi realized how wrong he was and tried to speak again, but a cold "I got it, go bathe in guilt if that's what you want" cut him off with eyes that glared at him. Y/n left after that and didn't speak to him again to this day.

So he was left to watch her from a distance. In moments when he felt lonely he blamed her. He often let his frustration get the better of him and then tried to talk to others about his doubts and pin his ugly feelings on y/n. Unfortunately for him, everyone loved her, starting with Gai who was finally getting a talkback about the flower of youth and someone with whom his passionate level would be similar.Kurenai finally felt close to a female ninja and laughter could always be heard from Tsunade's office when she was in. Genma showed a closeness to her like he hadn't with anyone in a long time... Kurenai even mentioned that they went on a date after some difficult mission. Which is perfectly fine and didn't leave Kakashi choking on a feeling he hadn't felt before at all. Hot again, but not in a nice way, it even felt a little like anger. And now he was standing in the Hokage's office wondering how a ninja with chakra that was impaled on a water core could cause so much fire.

"Well Kakashi, it's time for another S-rank mission" Tsunade smiled at him, holding sake in her left hand. It was already dusk and her paperwork work was due in about an hour, so her advisors weren't in the room "I hope you had enough time to rest."

"And if I said I didn't, it wouldn't change the situation much" he wasn't looking anywhere in particular while keeping his hands in his pockets. He was on the last mission for a full 3 weeks. Of course he was chakra exhausted. Of course he felt tired. Of course he wanted to do nothing but sleep, read Make-out, and visit the memorial stone. And check out what y/n is doing…

"You know yourself that the level of missions has increased since the death of the 3rd Hokage and the destruction of the village. All our enemies strike us now because they're hoping to catch us in weakness. Unfortunately we don't have enough jonin to cover the steady increase in S rank missions...so there is no time for long breaks. This one is especially hard, so you'll get an escort."

"Ah, escort..." now he was looking at the ceiling, how interesting tiles... "didn't you say that sending couple jonin rank ninjas on a mission is a waste of resources? That it should be done only in exceptional cases? Or you've actually started caring about me? In that case my heart is about to break…"

"This is an exceptional case, Kakashi" Tsunade got up from the chair and sat on the table directly observing Kakashi "the fact is that many jonin go on missions with their genin and chunin and they consider it a kind of vacation, because all those missions are B rank at worst. However, that privilege has been taken away from you since Sasuke escaped and Naruto went to train who knows where with Jiraiya" when she noticed that Kakashi would not respond to her remark she sighed deeply and continued "since this mission involves going into enemy territory you will take escort."

"Enemy territory?"

"Land of Waves to be precise. Y/n was already notified this morning that she has been assigned an S rank mission and will need to be your guide and support."

"Y/n?!" Kakashi felt his anger spreading through his body, so he tried with all his might, fists clenched in his pockets, to calm his breathing; he spoke very slowly and quietly "y/n has a huge bounty on her head in those villages. Or did you miss that? They will kill her as soon as she gets close."

"The scroll that was stolen is very important to Konoha, Kakashi " she held the tip of the nose with her eyes closed "y/n knows the risk and she accepted it. It was her duty at the end of the day" as she looked at him determinedly "as it was yours to take orders from the Hokage. You have a mission to complete, and for efficiency you'll bring a guide with you, who, if I must remind you, is also a jonin who does S-rank missions. You will take care of each other."

"You can't send her with me" he couldn't stop his legs from getting a little closer to her "you can't send her there, it will only be a big distraction."

"The decision has been made" she handed him the scroll looking at him resolutely "the deadline for the mission is 1 week. If you do not return by then, help will be sent to you. All the details are in the scroll, I expect a successful report when you return. That's it, you can go."

"But, Lady Tsunade –"

"That's it Kakashi" a small crack was heard from the wood of the table that cracked under Tsunade's pressure "you can go."

Damn it he thought.

i’m so sorry.

"Of course you're late" y/n looked at Kakashi leaning against the wall of village gate, her bag on the floor between her legs.

"You won't believe what an infestation of angry geese was in front of my house" he smiled at her, scratching the back of his head.

"Yes, yes. Move then..." she just walked away leaving him standing there for a few moments staring at her. He wondered if she knew where he was going before every mission. He wondered if she could see through his acting with that haunting gaze.

-

After few hours passed, in not so pleasant but endurable silence, air was getting colder. Kakashi felt his fingers slowly tingle, frantically trying to warm them in his pockets.

"Fuck.." muttered next to him y/n holding a finger in the air that was covered in water and her chakra "fuck, fuck."

"What's wrong?" he asked quietly, observing their surroundings. They were around 25 kilometers away from Konoha for a pretty short time because they were running most of the way wanting to reach the border of Land of Water by evening. It's only about an hour to the small town. They were currently in an open area and Kakashi desperately wanted to get out of the way as soon as possible.

"Once every few years Land of Water gets a period of so-called „false winter“"y/n blurted out through her teeth, keeping her gaze still on the water that was wrapped around her finger "you see? There is a thin layer of hoarfrost gathering on the surface. It's not cold enough to freeze, but maybe, in 2 days, it will be enough."

"And what do those winters look like? Should we expect snow?"

"Probably not. The problem with this winters is that they are very cold and wet. On the other hand they never last more than a week. But people freeze to death because winters come so suddenly, so we have to be very careful. And of course, to return home as soon as possible."

"Clearly..." Kakashi spoke in a moment, swearing at his fate. This mission probably couldn't get any worse.

He watched y/n wipe hands on her pants, and warming the hand she had attached the water to by slowly blowing into it. He couldn't resist the urge and slowly put his hand on her shoulder. She looked at him with a look that almost brought him to his knees. Honest, clean, which allows the color of her eyes to completely come to the fore.

"Don't worry" he said quietly, now in some incomprehensible fear of not scaring her further, and with a huge desire to slowly dance his fingers on her face... to get rid of every concern "we will finish this mission successfully. Everything will be alright."

"Mhm" the girl in front of him uttered a falsely cheerful voice "and even if something happens, you won't have to swim in pool of pathetic excuses so I'm not even worried about you" she slipped out of his touch with the speed of an eye blink "it's time to go and find a room if we don't want to sleep in the cold."

"Y/n..." he tried

"Come on" she interrupted him already ready for a new round of running "don't lose sight of me."

-

When they arrived at the room they had barely rented as it was the last one in a shack at the very end of a famous town, within reach of a Village Hidden in Mist, Kakashi thanked every exalted being that existed for the 2 large separte beds in their room. As he made the beds, placed the maps on the floor of the room, took the food out of his bag, he listened to the sound of the shower coming out of the bathroom and suddenly he felt terribly hot. Although he had never been intimate with a woman... or anyone really, out of constant fear of getting hitched and that person dying, Kakashi actually often felt very lustful. It had appeared in flashbacks before, when he saw a pretty girl at one of his missions, when he passed a public women's bath, when he was reading his books... however he had never wanted something or someone so much that it made him act on that lust. The present moment, on the other hand, was driving him completely insane. Yes, he thought y/n was very very beautiful and her strong character was surprisingly attractive. He thought her smile was as sweet as honey and there was nothing warmer than her beautiful disposition. And yes, sure, one time when they happened to be together in a bar with mutual friends, not talking to each other of course, he got surprisingly turned on by one look at her bare legs. Although now he thought that that arousal could not even be considered arousal because what he was feeling right now was 10 times stronger. When he realized that if he continued like this he would either go crazy, or unwillingly go and do something.. with her, or cum within a full minute Kakashi went into deep concentration considering the mission.

After a few minutes y/n came out in a plain t-shirt and shorts, no bandages on her arms and legs so now he could see a lot of small cuts on the lenght of her arms. He felt that she could see that he was looking at her and he just kept his eyes on her waiting for her to speak.

"We have very hard endurance training as kids" y/n muttered noticing Kakashi is staring at her "they're not as gentle with us at the academy as they are with you. Especially if you are female."

"I understand" he looked at her with full attention "it must have been difficult for you."

"Of course it was" she threw herself on the bed with a sigh, letting her wet hair fall on the pillow "although we don't talk much about it. What happened happened."

"Does it bother you that I saw?" he left the question floating in the air. Her thighs were dripping with water that she hadn't wiped off. He wondered what it would feel like to run his lips over them.

"No" she fell silent a little and looked him directly in the eye "even though I don't agree with you about some things, I believe you. I've seen how you treat others. You always put someone else's life before your own and I really appreciate that. So the result is that I'm not ashamed of who I am right now. At least not in front of you."

Kakashi's legs walked on their own towards the bed where y/n lay. He wanted to comfort her, he wanted to kiss every cut on her body, he wanted to show her that she can show her vulnerable side. When she saw him coming towards her y/n sat down in a meditation pose leaving room for the ninja to sit on the other end of the bed which he did. When some time had passed Kakashi removed the headband from his other eye and looked at her with both eyes open. He noticed how the girl in front of him was trying like hell not to stare at his sharingan now, her eyes darting left and right as she paid attention to both eyes.

"I'm so sorry" mumbled Kakashi "I'm so fucking sorry for what I said the last time we spoked. If I could, I would do everything differently."

She watched him quietly. Then uncertainly reached out a shaky hand and touched his scar just below his eye which made Kakashi wince. What the hell was he thinking?! If she wanted to, she could have dug out his eye and taken it to the enemy!

"Sleep. Tomorrow is a tough one" he spoke harshly when, without looking at her again, he stood up and went to take a shower. Then hating himself, he entered the room again and saw her pretending to sleep with slightly red eyes from crying.

regrets.

The next day, they were already passing few small communites, moving through the Land of Waves. They only had a few more hours of walking left before they entered the Village Hidden in the Mist, and darkness was already slowly falling. Both of them had bought long coats on their way out of the city, so that the cold, which was slowly but surely getting into their bones, could be endured. However, Kakashi was feverishly aware of one thing – this all seemed too easy. They hadn't encountered a single ninja so far, there was no sign of anyone noticing who y/n was and the road was passable without control.

"Probably because of the cold " y/n mumbled trying to gather the cold mist into droplets on her palm when Kakashi shared his worries with her "I told you people doesn't handle it well enough in these parts."

"Hmm" he watched as the mist and chakra slowly danced and merged at the tip of her palm, making water "it would certainly be good if we didn't linger here for much longer. Considering how in demand you are here and how cold it can be."

"It's good that we left most of the things in that hut" now she let the water slowly drip from her fingers "being overloaded would only slow us down. And since sleeping in any hut here is not an option because of our bountys, and sleeping outside is not because of the cold, we can only finish the mission tonight and return to the hut tomorrow night."

"Sure thing, lady" he hummed.

-

It was the dead of night when they were half a kilometer from the base, which did not seem protected. Guards were probably inside because of the cold, Kakashi thought. The fog enveloped them and honestly suffocated him slightly even with the mask he always wore. When the wind blew, it would whip his face and make him shake for a moment. It was very cold. He watched as y/n looked at the white rabbit with small cut on right ear in confusion, crouching. He took out his kunai sorry little guy.

"No" she spoke quietly next to him "white rabbits are not always a distraction... don't worry."

"I hope you didn't trick me...trust me i will find out and it won't end well for you."

She glared at him, tilting her head to the side... a sarcastic smile moved to adorn her lips.

"How are you not ashamed?" she whispered, but because of the silence of the night he heard her very well "I sacrificed myself for your village in this half year than for mine my whole fucking life" she poked him in the chest with her finger "I was more polite to you than you deserve. And I would have fucking killed you in your sleep last night if I wanted to."

"You remained as fiery and hot as the last time I saw you" spoke a voice from the shadows behind them. Kakashi lifted his headband and grabbed the shuriken in his pockets. However a stiff y/n caught his attention more.

"Y/n" the copy ninja cracked "y/n what's going on?!"

"Shino..." she whispered confusedly looking into the darkness. How the hell do these swamp ninjas manage to be so damn quiet??

"What's up beautiful," out of the darkness, where y/n was looking, a tall ninja came out with the band of the village hidden in the mist hanging around his neck. His entire body except face was covered in bandages and a blade similar to Zabuza's was attached to his back… this is not good "you know I missed you."

"You tried to kill me" Kakashi watched y/n holding outstretched hand in front of her, chakra on the surface of her palm trembled slightly "I trusted you and you tried to kill me."

"Princess" a sneer was heard in his voice, he raised both hands above his head as if he wanted to show her that he did not want to hurt her "business is business, nothing personal."

"I loved you and you tried to kill me" her voice trembled as she turned her hand upwards and the ninja fell to his knees still with a smile on his face, his blue eyes sparkling in the moonlight

Kakashi tried to use the Sharingan to quickly assess the situation, but realized that there was nothing to be gained from it. The fog was too thick, the night was too dark and he didn't fucking know what to do. Should he summon Pakun? Should he kill the asshole on the spot?

"I see you still like bad boys, princess. But you yourself know that in the end you are regretted by everyone, in the end everyone sees how weak you are." Shino spoke with difficulty on his knees, a grimace on his face, probably due to blood manipulation "you still chose none other than Kakashi of sharingan. I'm impressed" he was looking at Kakashi now, a dirty smile returning to his lips "you know the redwater brothers want you dead ever since you killed Zabuza... that wasn't nice of you Kakashi."

"Ah, business is business, isn't it, nothing personal" Kakashi smiled with his eyes.

"Hah" Shino looked at y/n again "honestly, I never even loved you. What has to happen happens."

Then several things happens at once. Kakashi saw the ninja on his knees turning into water with his sharingan, and heard rustling behind them. Fucking water clone.

"Fucking shit -" Kakashi whispered furiously under his breath, quickly turning on his heels and activating chidori. A few seconds passed before he stood behind y/n shielding her back and pierced the spot where Shino's heart was with his chidori. The ninja fell from his hand, along with his blade with a dull thud. Kakashi turned to look at y/n who was looking at him with wide eyes and felt a searing pain in his chest. With a low curse he fell to his knees as he realised that he was almost cut open in half.

"No!" y/n shouted as she quickly knelt in front of him with her hands glowing with chakra "Kakashi, Kakashi, keep your eyes on mine."

Is this it? He thought as his head reeled. Although his eyes seemed to be open, he saw nothing. He only heard the soft sound of chakra vibrating somewhere nearby and shallow breats. Maybe some whimpers. But he wasn't sure.

"Kakashi! I will never talk to you again if you die now" a distant soft voice cracked "I can't lose you. I don't want to lose you."

"I l-lied" he spoke quietly, not sure if she heard him at all, but he tried anyway "you are very brave... so brave it scares me... So, of c-c-course you are not week. Of course you're not a dis-straction. Of course I don't regret going here with y-you."

"Look at me, I'm begging you."

The last atoms of power Kakashi focused on what appeared to be y/n's face. When his vision sharpened a little he saw a smile or a twitch, he wasn't quite sure, and the beautiful color of the eyes that he had come to love so much.

"You are so beautiful."

lavander.

When Kakashi woke up in a dark room that smelled of lavender he was sure he was dead. He tried to blink hard a few times and shake the sleep from his eyes before he managed to sit up. His mask was still there, though he was dressed in plain clothes and covered with a thick blanket. Although he was warm, the air in room was cold. He realized that he was in the hut where he and y/n had left their things before they went to the Land of Waves. When he turned to the right he saw lavender in a pot and a small letter. He took the letter and began to read.

By all accounts you should wake up before I’m back. I left medicinal herbs, tea and food on your table. Don't even think of touching the bandage. I managed to sew up the wound completely, but it's better that the bandage soaked with medicinal water stays until I return, just in case. Of the flowers in the local flower shop, there were only lavenders because of the winter, I hope you are not allergic. Hehe. I went to get that stupid scroll and finish the mission so I'll be back soon. Don't follow me. You lost a lot of blood and strength. Please wait. I'll be back, trust me.

P.S. I didn't peek under your mask. Pinky promise.

-

Those few hours in which Kakashi drank all the tea, ate all the food and thought about the best way to go after her, felt like days. He realized with great amazement that y/n had somehow managed to heal entire wound which now only itched, not hurt. He felt very exhausted as he looked out the window at the rain falling wrapped in a blanket. It must have been terribly cold outside. How many days did he sleep? How is y/n? Is she hurt? What if they catch her and kill her? What if she's already dead? How many days has she actually been out of the hut? If she is dead he will kill everyone who is responsible. But he is responsible... He let his guard down and let that jerk almost kill him and that's why y/n is out there alone now. He won't be able to live with himself if she's dead. He was too tired. He will rest for only half an hour more and then he will leave. Towards her. Yes, that sounds like a good idea.

Knock knock.

Kakashi stood up with his heart pounding. They found him. But if they found him that means they will wait there for y/n to come back and then kill her easily. He took the kunai, opened the sharingan eye and cautiously approached the door. He wouldn’t let that happen. When he flung open the door he saw y/n with gentle eyes watching him, a scroll in one hand, a Shino’s blade in the other. She was wearing a normal ninja uniform and was soaked to the core. Y/n smiled widely at him but fatigue was very visible on her face. Her body was shaking uncontrollably from the cold.

"Oh thank heavens, you're awake" it came as sigh from her lips "I didn't want to drop any of this on the floor. Sorry if you had to get up. Everything went smoothly. Mission is complete."

He quietly helped her inside, took the things from her hands and put them on the floor. When he went to turn on the shower so that somehow hot water would warm up y/n he realized that there was no use because the water had frozen in the pipes.

"The shower doesn't work" he rasped and realized that it was probably the first thing he had said in days "change into something dry. We need to warm you up."

Kakashi then placed 2 blankets over each other on his bed and pulled y/n who was now only in a t-shirt and shorts (because that was the only thing dry) into bed with him. He hugged her tightly, limbs completely intertwined, his hands rubbing hers, trying to bring some warmth back into her body. All this with full awareness of how she was lying next to him in just shorts and a t-shirt. He fought the growing erection in his underwear, thinking about anything but the woman in his arms that he wanted more than anything else.

"I thought you were going to die" she spoke quietly against his chest, probably more to herself than to him, but he certainly heard her very clearly.

"You saved my life, Thank you" he mumbled against her hair.

Now she cocked her head hard and fast locking her eyes with his, fire in them, just the way Kakashi loved it.

"If it wasn't for you, I would be dead" she snapped angrily, holding his gaze with hers, now he kept his sharingan eye open "I just did one tolerable, but miserable thing."

"You are extraordinary. Really. I’m all heald now thanks to you. When I woke up today I felt like whole new person. Thank you" he lightly touched her cheek with his hand "And I don't know if that went through your crazy little head, but the last thing I want is to let people I care about die while I'm just watching from the sidelines. That very much includes you."

As if momentarily embarrassed, she looked away from him and brought her head back to rest on his chest. She breathed deeply.

When he noticed that the normal temperature was slowly returning to her body and the shivers stopped being so strong Kakashi let out a soft laugh.

"I don’t believe a thing you say,"

"What?" y/n cocked her head again looking into Kakashi's one open eye with a confused expression. That made him grin even wider.

"I don't believe you didn't look under the mask."

The girl in his arms scoffed looking at him with mocking eyes "My curiosity is big, but not so much that I want to play dirty. If i really wanted to see what's underneath I'd make you show me yourself."

"And?" Kakashi felt his breath slowly run out of anticipation "do you want to see it that badly?"

She looked at his mask silently then studied his open eye.

"You want to show me?" she asked quietly, and he just continued to watch her, with an unknown glow. She slowly removed both hands from the blanket and ran her fingers to the top of his mask. Her hands were shaking slightly and Kakashi realized with something, ah here it is again, very warm in his stomach that she wasn't shaking from the cold this time. Y/n slowly removed the mask from his face as he watched her carefully. When the whole cloth was finally removed, she sighed deeply. A soft smile graced her lips.

"Ah, what a disappointment" her gaze circled all over his face "nothing of the huge lips and horse teeth."

Kakashi felt his lips curl into a smile. He hugged her a little tighter.

"You are so beautiful. Gorgeous even." she looked him in the eye and now he was terribly, terribly hot all over. No one ever addressed those words to him. His body just moved closer to her until her lips were only inches away from his. He felt her breath brush his lips. He was waiting for her to do something… anything.. to give him the green light. Because no matter how much he wanted to, he couldn't move on his own. Such tender and fragile moments were not frequent in his life, and suddenly he was terribly afraid of breaking this too. However when y/n pressed her lips to his all worries were quickly erased from his mind.

They kissed deeply and slowly as he ran his hands all over her body. He made sounds he didn't know he was capable of, but realized that nothing compared to her sighs and moans from the kiss. He slowly moved from her lips to her neck which he had been watching for so long as they talked months from now, taking deep breaths.

"How perfect you are" he murmured as she melted in his arms. She ran her hands first over his shoulders, then his back, finally letting her hands go under his shirt. He moaned burying his head deeper into her neck.

"Kakashi..." came out of her mouth like a plea, as if it was too much for her.

"I know y/n, I know," he breathed a big, hard sigh as he held her hips tightly so she wouldn't move against him anymore. It was very clear to him that she felt how much he wanted her. And he now wanted her to show her how much he wanted her "can I touch you?"

She looked at him with a warm look and red cheeks, then nodded briskly.

He let his hand dance from her neck, over her stomach, down to her lower abdomen where he pressed his hand firmly.

He kissed all over her hands, all the little cuts he'd seen just a few days before.

"Perfect. So fucking perfect. Lift your hips for me pretty girl" he whispered softly.

When he took off her shorts and realized how wet she was, he almost cummed In his pants at that moment.

He just touched her enterance briefly and she moaned leaning into his touch. Nothing has happened yet and he was so fucking turned on. Turned on by her smooth skin, maddening smell, her sighs, moans... This is 100x better than any erotic novel. He slowly kissed her clit, than licked it experimentally. Y/n closed her eyes and left her hands flying to his hair, hips bucking up to meet his mouth.

'Look at me, let me see you" he darkly whispered against her pussy, looking at her with his both eyes. He then licked and sucked her swollen clit, eyes never leaving hers, making her moaning mess.

"Fuck Kakashi, fuck" she cried pressing one hand against her mouth, than changing mind and letting that hand grip on his hair too "i need you now. Please."

He stopped for a second watching her.

"Are you.. -"

"Yes, yes, and don’t you fucking dare to leave now."

"Sure thing pretty lady" he smiled against her heat.

He took his time, exploring every exposed piece of skin now that he took her t-shirt off too. He blinked open the sharingan again and he was so damn happy that he could predict how she would react to every touch. He looked at her; sprawled out underneath him, with her face flushed, lips swollen.

"Have I ever told you that you are perfect?" he had that boyish smile now, looking at her lovingly.

"Pervert" she grinned while kissing him quickly.

"Ah yes" he left few kisses to her neck again "I remember you calling me that a few times" he put his fingers on her clit making her to squirm with embarrassment.

"Please Kakashi" her voice was so fucking sweet "I need you. Please."

"Need you too" he mumbled against her lips "so much. My beautiful girl."

Then all he could feel was her. She clouded all five senses and he felt like he was going insane. It was over far too quickly.

"Madness" he whispered in her ear and nuzzled her neck, thrusting deep and steady "you are madness."

He gave a few last thrusts and reached down with his hand to help her finish. It wasn’t long until she was writhing and whimpering underneath him.

He kissed the top of her head before he pulled her into him protectively, feeling sleepy. Enjoying the feeling of her skin flush against his, her sweet smell and now steady breaths he felt his body completely relaxing.

As he slowly drifted off to sleep he asked quietly against her hair "do you want to go out sometime?"

[guiltyreverie]

Hiya

Saw that you were looking for some request to help get you out of your block (I hate when that happens) so I was wondering if we could get a Zoro x F/GN reader with the prompt "Holding your hand under the guise of not getting lost in a crowd" The swordsman isn't as touchy as Luffy but I think he'd find a way to get that physical touch.

Thanks 🌴

Hey anon, thanks dear for the request 🫶🏻 I love this idea!! It has me all 🤭 giggling and kicking my feet. Also I hope you��re satisifed with this 🤍

Crappy Love Confessions

Pairing: Zoro x gn!reader

Tags: grumpy x sunshine, established relationship, Zoro thinks he’s being slick but you got him all figured out, slight insecurity/jealousy

Warnings: none, just fluff

Writing prompt: “Holding your hand under the guise of not getting lost in a crowd”

Summary: You arrive in a new town and you end up exploring it with your boyfriend by your side

A/N: I mostly wrote this in the middle of my lectures - I hope the person behind me had a blast reading this 😭 and ngl as much as I love grumpy men, they’re lowkey so hard to write (BUT I WELCOME THE CHALLENGE)

Word count: 1.5k

Loud chatter, salesmen shouting and advertising their products filled the air, the smell of various restaurants, children running about - the tunes of a new city filled your senses and you stare around in awe; almost every time it‘s the same deal and every single time you‘re still amazed by this feeling.

Luffy‘s hand met your back and finally pushed you off the boat. “Come on, y/n.“, he was drooling and you looked at him in amusement, “I smell meat!“ - he was already gone - a chuckle escaped your lips at the antics of your captain.

“Cutie-chan“, Sanji gasped dramatically and he grabbed your hands to check if you‘re alright, “are you-„

Zoro‘s grumble interrupted him and the both of them are about to butt heads again; you‘re ready to intervene and prevent the town from getting destroyed by these two but Nami was faster.

“Don‘t you guys have things to do.“, she pointedly stared at Sanji, since he was the one that needed supplies and ingredients for the next few weeks.

Sanji is about to make a flirty remark but stops himself when he sees Nami‘s glare, she pushes him off the deck and Zoro towards your direction, then proceeds to hum around about ‚not having too much fun‘ and your cheeks flush slightly; nonetheless you grin at her and shout back “no promises.“

Zoro looks at you, or well, more like scowls at you and if you didn‘t know any better you‘d think he was mad at you.

Your head tilts slightly to the right - inaudibly asking what‘s wrong.

“It‘s nothing“, he tenses up, and you can see something is bothering him in his eyes - now you could go about this in two ways, either you pester him and force him to tell you or you respect his boundaries and let it be.

You figured he‘d eventually tell you himself once he‘s comfortable enough and let it go, instead you focus on the rumbling town in front of you and smile and start walking, you knew Zoro would follow you either way so you don‘t bother calling out to him.

The both of you check out the shops, while you grab some utilities you also check out the snack vendors, all while Zoro is right behind you following every footstep and holding your bags for you on one arm and the other empty for, probably any worst case scenario he can imagine.

When you see a sword shop out of the corner of your eyes, you smile and turn towards him: “Do you want to check it out?“

He glances at you, then at the shop, he seems to contemplate it, overthink it even; you let out a sigh and step towards the shop: “Come on“, you nudge him, “it‘s at least worth checking out.“ and nudge him into the shop.

You stand beside him, observing him fondly while he checks everything out in deep concentration and gets anything he needs; when you’re ready to check out and leave the store you notice a small dagger - perfect to replace the one that broke recently.

You test out its feeling around your grip and its secureness and smile to yourself in satisfaction - you’ll get this one.

What you fail to notice is your boyfriend staring at you in admiration - for someone so kind you were deadly when threatened - in fact it’s the reason he was so drawn to you in the first place. All you needed was two little daggers and no one stood a chance against you, your bubbly self would disappear and it would almost seem like you had been replaced with the best assassin to walk the earth.

When you glance back at him satisfied with your choice, your breath halts for a moment; the way Zoro was looking at you right now? It almost made your face flush in embarrassment, his eyes were filled with endearment, admiration and something else you can’t pinpoint right now - he always had a hard time vocalizing his feelings for you but he didn’t have to, you always knew how much he cared for you without saying anything.

You clear your throat in an attempt to dissipate the butterflies in your stomach and smile at him: “You got everything?”

He keeps staring at you mesmerized: “yeah, i got everything I need.”, your face flushes slightly and the butterflies you tried to dissipate earlier come back, he didn’t mean just his sword supplies - not with the way he was staring at you.

“Alright.”, you nod and make your way to the cash register and pay up.

Zoro is already outside, leaning against the wall, while waiting for you, when you get out he promptly gets up and walks beside you, he seems to contemplate something, you were about to ask if there’s anything else he wants to check out when grasps your hand. Your face flushes when his large calloused hand wraps around your smaller softer one and you grin brightly - the warmth inside you only growing bigger and bigger.

He looks away, his voice slightly hoarser than before: “I can’t risk getting lost.”, you raise an eyebrow in amusement, his blushing ears clearly betraying his actual thoughts.

“Sure.”, you smirk clearly unconvinced by his reasoning.

Now the both of you walk together, your hands intertwined and you hum happily looking for your next destination.

The both of you walk around more until it’s late in the evening; your feet hurt from walking around all day and you decide to finally go back to the ship.

“Zoro”, you pout, the sting getting worse and worse.

He sighs slightly then proceeds to let go of your hand before he kneels down in front of you: “Hop on.”

The warm feeling in your chest, once again, consumes you - god you love him - you get on his back and wrap your arms around him while he grabs the back of your thighs and picks you up.

Fondly you kiss his cheek: “Thanks, dear.”

He ‘hmphs’ slightly and grumbles: “you’re too light, do you even eat?”

“Y’know I always finish Sanji’s food”, you grin, “you just lift abnormal weights.”

He tenses up slightly when you mention Sanji: “Don’t mention his name.”

Your eyebrows furrowed in confusion, Sanji and him always fight but he usually didn’t react this badly at his name being mentioned; finally, it clicks in your head and you manage to connect the dots.

“Is this about this morning?”, you lean your head on his.

“I don’t like when he’s being close to you.”, he sighs.

You smile and hold him tighter: “I don’t care for him, in the same way I care for you. No amount of flirting from his side can change that.”

“It’s not that. I trust you, it’s just..”, he seems to gather his thoughts, trying to put them into words and you let him - he needs to realize just how important it is to let you in. His jaw tenses up and he clearly seems uncomfortable being vulnerable, even if it’s you he's talking to. “It just makes me think that I can never be as vocal as him; He doesn’t mind crappy love confessions or public affection.”

It takes you a few seconds to even process his words - was he insecure?

“Zoro”, you motion for him to let you go and you quickly step up before him, grasping his face, “I don’t want crappy love confessions or public affection or anything else, I want you.”

“Ok but what if me being me isn’t good enough at one point and you want to do better - you certainly can, if you want to.”, he looks at you, the uncertainty finally clear in his eyes and it pains you, leaves you wondering for how long he had been harboring such thoughts.

“No, fuck that, I don’t want better, because there is no better.”, you bite your lips slightly, “ for me? You’re the best pick, Zoro. I love you, the way you are and I want nothing more than for you to keep being yourself and it’s not going to change any time soon. You hear me?”, you hold his face once again and genuinely look at him, he needs to believe you, trust that you won’t leave him.

“I’m just being stupid, aren’t I?”, he smiles at you a little stunned.

You smile and shake your head: “No, not stupid. Human.”

He raises an eyebrow slightly at your choice of words but accepts it nonetheless. He kisses your forehead earnestly and once again kneels for you to get on his back.

You grin and hop on, hugging him tightly.

He clears his throat: “I love you, too, by the way.”, your grin brightens - and he says he isn’t the type for crappy love confessions.

Together you guys walk through the bustling town back to the ship, the warm sunset fitting the atmosphere inside your chest.

[godmadeaterribleerror]

Chapter 17 - Make My Chest Stir

Series Masterlist

Author's Note: Happy fake season 5 premiere. Now are you ready for some SAD? Chapter Title from Pavlove by Fall Out Boy

Word Count: 21.9k

Chapter Summary/Warnings: You want to go home. Usual Warnings, and also just so sad.

Read on A03!

Chapter 16 - Chapter 18

It had been one month, one week, two days, five hours, thirty-seven minutes, and thirteen seconds since Ben had lost Her. Failed Her. Held Her and heard her voice say his name. 

The Thing kept time for him. It had forbidden him to forget for a single second that She wasn’t there. Because of him. She was gone, he’d broken his promise, and now the Thing’s only job was to look for Her in corners—in strange shadows and oddly placed objects that might be Her—and beat every part of Ben bloody with an anguish for Her. To remind him, as another second passed, that he had failed Her. That She wasn’t at his side, where she belonged. That She had trusted him, and now she was in danger. 

The first week had almost killed him. He’d barely slept—and when he did nightmares of Her, just out of reach and screaming, would carve into his chest as the drums overtook him—so he’d wait until he was about to fucking collapse and then do it on the couch. Never on the bed. He didn’t go into the bedroom except to get to the bathroom. And every time he did, he had to fight the sick feeling in his body that She wasn’t there. He’d almost wrecked the apartment in wrath as well, smashing two chairs against the wall and shattering the TV. Then he’d been furious with himself for losing his fucking control, because She’d be upset the TV was broken. 

How the fuck is that helping anything, Benjamin? She’d cross her arms and glare at him. Then make him clean it up while She watched, cross legged on the couch. Still not really that mad at him, because Ben would grunt and glower at Her but do it all the same. Then he’d steal Her chocolate from the cafeteria in a silent apology, and even though she’d already forgiven him She would smile at him and tease him for being a grump as he watched Her eat.

She was haunting him. Ben knew Her too well, She’d planted herself so deep in his every thought that She was everywhere. Not just scattered through the apartment—clothes in drawers he had to pretend he couldn’t see, unfinished books on tables, and an empty coffee mug in the sink—but plaguing his every move. He couldn’t eat or cook without hearing Her frown at instructions and ingredients. 

What does “crisp up the edges” mean? Like, burn lightly? 

Ben had to stop cooking. It was wrong when Her voice was there but he couldn’t kiss the top of Her head or wrap his body around her own, hugging her into him as they both frowned at the stupid recipe.  

As such, at first he’d only left the apartment to get food—stalking back immediately after because if the Pussy Brigade kept looking at him with fucking pity he’d kill them all and that would defiantly make Her pissed—and to attend briefings. Boring, pointless fucking briefings where Butcher would say they still didn’t have a lead—at that point they didn’t know anything except that She was with Homelander and Vought said she was in “recovery”, so nobody had even fucking seen her—and Ben had to find another way to live with himself. With how he’d failed Her.

The Pussy Brigade had been pissed with him. MM’s glares had become somehow damn angrier than before, Annie and Hughie kept fucking sighing, Frenchie looked at Ben like he was about to rip everyone’s heads from their shoulders at the smallest word in his direction, and Butcher and Kimiko were acting like Ben was the fucking asshole. Like they weren’t the ones sitting on their fucking asses, and Ben was slowing them down. He had been attending their stupid fucking meetings and managing not to kill anybody when every single fucking one ended the same way, with Her not any closer to coming home. So every single one of them could go fuck themselves until She was. 

Then he’d been called to the dining hall for another meeting, and found only MM and Annie waiting for him. 

“You need to talk to her sister,” MM snapped. “She needs to know what happened.” 

“No.” Ben’s grunt was meant to be final. He didn’t want to talk to Violet. He didn’t want to be reminded of Her, he already had to see Her perfect face whenever he opened his phone. He had no desire to see her in all the similarities and mimicked expressions on Her sister’s features, or hear her in the way they both always spoke with a frantic pace, as if the words might get away from them. 

“We’re not fucking asking-“ 

Annie had stopped MM with a hand, looking at Ben carefully. “She’d want her sister to know.” 

She would. She’d be pissed Violet didn’t already know. But Ben couldn’t. “One of you pussies fucking do it then.” 

“It has to be you,” Annie had said Her name gently. “She would want it to be you.” 

Ben had wanted to kill Annie. To tell her she had no fucking clue what She would want him to do, but she was right. Ben had to do it. This was a fitting fucking punishment for failing Her.

They’d called Violet. Annie had wanted Ben to see her in person, but MM had decided it was too dangerous. So they’d called her, using MM’s phone. 

She’d asked Ben what the hell had happened, and he’d told her. 

The line had gone silent for a long, painful minute before Violet spoke again.

“You’re going to get her back.”

Even though it felt like the words were clawing at his throat, Ben had parroted what he’d been telling himself since he’d lost Her. “Like I fucking said, we have to kill Homelander-“ 

“I don’t give a shit about Homelander,” Violet had snapped. “You’re going to get her back.” 

“You think I don’t fucking want to?! You think this isn’t fucking killing me?” Ben had almost roared into the phone. He knew he’d failed, he didn’t fucking need this. Nobody needed to tell Ben he’d lost Her. He’d never be able to goddamn forget it if he tried.

“I know this is fucking killing you. And I don’t goddamn care.” Violet’s response had been cold. Furious. “She’s my sister, and I want her back. And if you care about her even a quarter as much as I think you do, you’ll want her back too. So go get her back.”

It hadn’t been a question or a plea. It had been a command. Ben was going to get Her back. Fuck Homelander, fuck Butcher and MM and Mallory. Ben cared about Her, more than he’d ever cared about anything, and if he didn’t get Her by storming the Tower he’d rip the world apart until he found Her and brought her back. Brought her home. 

Violet had hung up the line, Ben had chucked MM’s phone back at him, and turned to stomp back to his room. To get his shield and fucking bring Her home. He’d spent a week doing it the team’s way, fucking sitting on his ass like a pussy, and that was fucking it. He’d get her back, his way, no matter fucking what. 

MM had stopped him. Planted himself in Ben’s path with a glare. 

“Move.” Ben had hissed. There wasn’t fucking time for this. He had to do something. Get Her back right goddamn now. 

“Stop being a fucking child,” MM’s words had been blunt. Furious. And Ben’s vision had gone red. 

“The fuck did you just say to me-“ 

“You’re being a whiny, pathetic, sulking child.” MM hadn’t flinched, and Ben had been certain he had a death wish. “I sure as hell understand why Violet’s angry. But she doesn’t know what the fuck she’s talking about. We’re going to get her back, but when it’s safe.” MM had said Her name, and Ben had almost broken the teeth in his own mouth. “She’s strong. She’s smart. She wouldn’t want us to compromise the mission for her.” 

Of course She wouldn’t want that. She was always fucking throwing herself in the line of fire, taking bullets meant for everyone else because she could. But she shouldn’t fucking have to. Ben didn’t give a shit how strong She was, she shouldn’t keep fucking doing this to herself. He couldn’t keep fucking allowing everyone to just let her do this to herself. 

“I don’t give a single fucking ass’s ballsack.” Ben had hissed. MM needed to be crystal fucking clear where his priorities were. Not with the Pussy Brigade, not with the mission. With Her. Always with Her. “I’ve already fucking wasted too much goddamn time pussyfooting around for you-“ 

“This isn’t for me, you dense motherfucker,” MM was still in Ben’s way, and Ben had been more than ready to fucking move him. “Or for Annie, or Hughie, or even fucking Violet. It’s for her.” 

“Fuck you, you don’t know what the goddamn hell you’re talking-“ 

“She hasn’t broken out,” it was Annie who spoke, and Ben had turned on her with a scowl. “She’s still there-“ 

“I’m well fucking aware-“ 

“For a reason, you fucking asshole.” MM’s sneer had been cold. “We all know how strong she is. She could’ve broken out-“ 

“Her fire wasn’t working.” Ben’s fists had been curled at his side, and he’d felt fucking sick. “It just stopped. She can’t break out, she fucking needs me-“ 

“We haven’t damn seen her. We don’t know even if she’s in the fucking tower or not. And no matter what, we have to play this like she would.” 

That had halted Ben. “What in Christ’s fucking asshole are you talking about.” 

“We can’t play this like Homelander. Or Butcher.” Or you. Annie hadn’t said the last words, but Ben knew they were implied. “She’s the one who’s there. Who knows what is and isn’t possible, what precautions Vought does and doesn’t have. What they’re planning with Her. Right now we’re in the dark, but she isn’t. So we have to play this like she would, like she’d tell us to do if she were here.”

Ben had been silent, trying to find a good reason to not just fucking killing Annie and MM and storm Vought Tower to get Her back. He didn’t care about the mission or plan anymore. He just needed Her home. With him.

It’s not about us right now, Ben. Her voice had echoed in his head, gentle but firm. Don’t throw a temper tantrum, I’ll come home soon. Once this is over. Trust me. 

She’d play it smart. He’d known that immediately, that She’d play it smart. She’d play it underhanded and unfair—with sharp words and dirty tricks—but fucking smart, and She’d get the job done. At any cost that She deemed truly unavoidable. 

Ben really fucking wished She’d start realizing that she wasn’t an unavoidable cost. 

But that’s how She’d play it. She’d use herself like a weapon and then crawl back to Ben with Her guts falling from her body. She’d be planning something. Ben knew Her, he knew that she’d be planning something. But She was so fucking afraid of Homelander. There was no certainty that she was Her right now, that her mind was currently capable of finding a way out of this.

“We don’t know where she is,” MM had said slowly, and Ben had remained silent. “And we don’t have a way to get her safely, except killing Homelander. Don’t be a fucking idiot, you asshole.”

“We won’t rest until she’s back,” Annie had added, tone a hell of a lot more soft than MM’s. “I promise.” 

Ben had stormed past them, uninterested in their fucking promises, and tried to find a way around this. A good reason that he could just go get Her.

He could go to the tower. Demand Her back. 

And I’m sure they’d be super chill about that. Homelander would just hand me over and apologize for the inconvenience. 

He could just fucking kill Homelander right now. Stop waiting for whatever pointless fucking shit Butcher and Mallory were planning and kill Homelander now.

He’s not going to fight you. Not after we kicked his ass on the lawn. He’d see you and fly off.

He could bribe someone-

With what money, Pretty Boy? 

If you’re so fucking clever, Ben had hissed at the voice. Then what would you do? 

I’d play it out. I’d make a plan and then I’d play it out. 

You always shut the hell down when you’re afraid, no plans, barely even full goddamn sentences. And you’re fucking terrified of Homelander. 

Wow, I wonder why. 

“Shut the fuck up.” Ben had snapped that last part aloud, and Her laugh had carried on the wind. 

He’d sat in it, arguing with Her voice in his head for hours until his phone had buzzed on the table.

William Butcher; asshole, bother as much as possible.

Emergency. Dining hall, right now.

Don’t make me fucking drag you. 

They’d all been waiting when Ben had arrived. Huddled around Hughie’s laptop with wide eyes and mouths hanging open like fucking idiots. 

“Unless the emergency is you pussies doing a fucking circle-jerk-“ 

“It’s not,” Hughie had spoken over Ben, and his eyes had widened slightly as he saw Ben’s murderous scowl, realizing what he’d just done. “Uh, I mean you’ll want to see this. It’s important. It’s uh,” Hughie had opened and closed his mouth like a fucking fish, and Annie had taken over. 

“It’s her. It’s-“ 

Annie said Her name, and might have been about to say more, but Ben hadn’t fucking cared. He’d crossed the room in two steps and ripped the laptop up from the table. Ignored the protests of the group as he’d stared at the screen. 

They had been watching some fucking cable channel, with BREAKING NEWS written in bold letters on the bottom of the feed. It was a fucking interview, where a charismatic haircut in a suit was behind a desk, smiling at Homelander. Smiling at Her. 

Her. 

Alive. In public. In immeasurable fucking danger, but within an arms reach. She wasn’t speaking, just smiling and looking between Homelander and the host as they spoke. Laughing on a perfect fucking cue when Homelander made a horrible joke. 

But Her eyes were fucking empty. That wasn’t her real smile, or real laugh, and no part of Her body was relaxed. She didn’t look harmed, but it was impossible for Her to look harmed. Her hair was styled perfectly, but she never wore it like that. She wasn’t speaking, even as Homelander compared them to Romeo and Juliet and called it the best love story ever told. She hated Romeo and Juliet. She’d lectured Ben at least twice about how it was a fucking cautionary tale, a tragedy, not aspirational. She was laughing at jokes Ben knew she wouldn’t find funny, and Her eyes were fucking dull. She was sat with her hands on the table, and he could see Her middle finger, tapping slightly. 

“Unfortunately, Soldier Boy got away. What are your plans going forward to bring him to justice?” The Haircut had been asking Homelander, and She’d blinked. The only sign she’d heard. 

“Well, I was so focused on saving the love of my life,” Homelander had placed a gloved hand over hers, and She given him a too sweet smile. “That Soldier Boy managed to run away. I could’ve caught him, of course, but she needed me. So I stayed. But we’re working on a way to find him, and eliminate his threat all together. Permanently.”

The Haircut had nodded, and looked at Her. “The public is dying to know more about you and Homelander’s plans, now that you’re reunited. What can you tell us?” 

She hadn’t even opened her mouth, letting Homelander speak for Her. “Right now we’re just focusing on each other. Building a strong foundation for our future together. You’ll hear more when we’re ready to share,” Homelander had given a shark-like grin. “And it will be juicy. Right, honey?” 

She’d nodded. No words, only a nod. 

Ben had been about to smash the laptop and leave. Go fucking find Her. This was live, she was somewhere in the city right fucking now, and he’d made up his mind. She wasn’t herself, her eyes were vacant and she was never fucking silent. She needed him, and he was going to find her. 

But then She’d looked right into the camera. For only a half-second—he’d almost fucking missed it in his anger—She’d made eye-contact with Ben through the camera. And her face had morphed. Twisted into one Ben recognized for just that split moment, before growing blank once more. 

I’m okay, Benjamin. Trust me. I’ll see you soon. 

She’d see him soon. And when she’d stood up—hand clasped in Homelander’s without fingers tangled, without touching him beyond his glove—she’d been wearing green. It had been a hideous dress, fucking frills and bows and lace and one size too small. But green. 

And Ben understood. 

She was playing this her way. She was asking him to trust her. She’d see him soon. 

He fucking hated this. But She was asking him to trust her, and he did. She was still Her, perfect,  and she was wearing green.

She’d see him soon. 

Ben had chucked the laptop back at Hughie, and glowered around the table. “What’s your fucking plan.” 

“We, uh, don’t really have one-“ 

“Then fucking make one.” Ben had sneered at Hughie. At all of them. “Now.” 

Annie had frowned at him. “I mean, I don’t think that’s important, not when she just-“ 

“It’s the only fucking thing that’s important.” Ben had hissed. “If you goddamn pussy idiots want to play it like her, do it fucking right. No fucking room for error, or doubt, or goddamn hesitation. If we’re getting Her back by killing Homelander, then let’s fucking kill Homelander.”

Butcher had nodded. “Welcome back, Gov. Whatever it fuckin takes.” 

Ben had left. He hadn’t answered Butcher, because he’d have just killed him. Split his face open in fury. The pussy didn’t fucking get it. Butcher’s whatever it takes was about the job. Ben’s whatever it takes was about Her. Getting Her back, making her safe. He was a goddamn fucking hypocrite, and he didn’t fucking care. 

Whatever it takes.

Not Butcher’s whatever it takes—what Ben had once meant, a lifetime ago—where he was really saying at any and all costs. 

Her whatever it takes. Where she was saying at my cost. At my sacrifice. 

Her sacrifice was giving every part of Her. Letting Her worst fears and nightmares become reality. 

Ben’s sacrifice was going to be his fucking sanity. His peace of mind traded for the torture of failing Her. Of having to let Her do this. But she’d done it, and he’d be fucking damned if she did it for nothing. She was playing this how she wanted, and Ben knew a lot better than to stand in her way. He’d play fucking nice, and do what the Pussy Brigade told him to, because She’d come home to him. 

He’d failed his most important promise to Her. That was broken, shattered, gone into the fucking past.

Now he had to let Her do what she needed to do. And then everything would be keeping Her safe. 

She’d need to be safe when she came home. Ben had to keep himself the fuck together, so he could hold Her when she came home. So he could be Her home, and make sure she still trusted him to touch her, care for her, and- 

Ben had nearly run straight into the Kid. 

He didn’t look like Homelander. There wasn’t anything evil on the Kid’s face, anything deeply gut twisting and skin crawling. Homelander’s face was fucking wrong. Weak. Inhuman. The Kid just looked like a damn kid. He had the same blond hair and blue eyes that Homelander did, but a lot of fucking people had blond hair and blue eyes. Fucking Annie had blonde hair and blue eyes. And, to keep it damn fair, Homelander didn’t look like Ben. Homelander wasn’t Ben. So the Kid probably wasn’t Homelander.

But Ben had lost Her for the Kid. 

So he didn’t really give a shit about if the Kid was Homelander or not. Butcher had what he fucking wanted, and She had given it to him. Butcher had traded Her for the Kid. And Ben didn’t want a goddamn thing to do with either of them. 

The Kid had been about to say something. Maybe call Ben fucking grandpa again. She’d have loved that. She’d have fucking fallen over laughing and then kissed Ben’s scowl, calling him an old grump.

Something hurt deep inside Ben’s chest. He might be doing this Her way, might have resigned himself to sitting on his fucking ass and working fully with the Pussy Brigade, but he didn’t need another fucking reminder that She was gone. Not when the Thing was keeping time. Not when Ben couldn’t escape Her voice.

He’d shoved past the Kid without a word. 

It took Ben two whole fucking weeks to find a rhythm without Her. To pull his shit together for Her. 

He didn’t sleep in the bed. He wouldn’t sleep in the bed, not if She wasn’t there. He changed the sheets because she deserved them to be clean. He brushed his teeth because she’d notice if he didn’t. He fucking perfected pancakes, so he could make them when she got home. He fixed the TV. He called Mallory to fix the TV. The TV got fucking fixed, and it didn’t really goddamn matter if it was Ben or Mallory or Hughie who did it. The TV was in one piece, and She’d be able to use it when she came home. 

He found small ways to torture himself until She returned. Ways to remind himself She was gone, fucking gone and alone, while still holding Her as close as he could. Ben used Her stupid fucking flower shampoo once a week, just so he could smell her like a pervert. He watched all the movies and shows she adored and tried to learn all the goddamn million songs she loved. For such an intelligent person, She liked some stupid fucking shit. The music was slightly harder for Ben to get through, mostly because of the sheer goddamn whiplash. Bright pop to heavy guitar to—fuck him—showtunes. He managed to get one song down to a key, which brought his total up to two whole songs that Ben knew and could sing to Her. Moon River and Rainbow Connection. He’d have to learn a third, because the fucking banjo made him want to shoot himself. For TV, he could’ve watched all the movies and shows She liked because they were good—The award winning ones made by a bunch of pretentious whining art pussies—or he could watch the ones She loved because she was a fucking enigma of a woman. A low-budget film about a hot woman and the worst fucking “dread pirate” Ben had ever seen. A fucking movie about pageants and the FBI. A goddamn cartoon about talking cars and spies. Another fucking cartoon with a billion damn episodes about a family who made burgers. Another too long show about monsters and hunting them and being a self-righteous pussy all the time. 

Ben didn’t actually hate that one. He liked how much they decapitated people, and that he could almost hear Her talking through the whole thing. He couldn’t see any deeper meaning in any of this fucking dimly-lit shit, but She’d find some. And he wanted to try and look for something so that when she inevitably made him watch it, Ben could blow her fucking mind with some sort of stupid observation or metaphor. Her pretty mouth would fall open, and her eyes would widen—half with disbelief and half with delight—and She’d be so fucking happy. 

And that was where the torture part began. She wasn’t smiling at him. She wasn’t happy. She wasn’t even fucking safe. She was with Homelander. She was doing fucking everything for fucking everybody instead of resting against Ben and telling him about all Her perfect, strange, and pointless thoughts. Ben wasn’t holding Her, laughing with her or fighting with her over nothing. She didn’t even have a fucking way to know how much this was killing him. How every movie he watched and song he listened to made every part of Ben just fucking miss Her. He missed Her so fucking much. 

That was the worst part, really. It wasn’t that Ben had to put up with Butcher’s fucking lectures or Annie and Hughie’s goddamn sympathy. It wasn’t seeing the Kid or having to play nice with the Pussy Brigade and their terrible ideas. It was that he fucking missed Her. Mallory and Butcher would start fucking bitching about plans and intel other boring shit and Ben couldn’t look to the side and roll his eyes at Her. He had to eat alone—Ben was pretty goddamn certain he wasn’t welcome at dinners without Her—and she wouldn’t throw food at him or talk to him through large mouthfuls. He had to go into the bedroom to get changed and see Her clothing, still mixed in with his. Static. Never fucking moving from place unless Ben touched them. Because She wasn’t fucking here. If She was here she’d know what to fucking do with all of this, she always knew what to do, but she wasn’t. She wasn’t smiling at him with a pretty mouth and adoring expression. She wasn’t snorting or giggling at him with that same perfect smile. She wasn’t watching the world with sharp eyes that became soft when She looked at Ben. She wasn’t looking at Ben at all, except through the camera. All he had of Her were moments where the mask would drop. Where Her eyes would flash with confirmation through the screen that She was still Her, but nothing more. She never had enough time for anything more. 

Homelander was fucking parading Her around. After that first week—where nobody had even known if She was still in the damn city, or state, or country—She was everywhere. Red carpets and interviews and rallies where She’d stand, silent and empty, and Homelander’s side. Never speaking or moving, only smiling as Homelander guided her with a hand on Her lower back. She didn’t flinch when Homelander touched Her, but that wasn’t where She was supposed to be touched. She wasn’t meant to be herded around like a fucking sheep by Homelander. She was meant to be wrapped in Ben’s arms, safe and tucked into his side while she held his hand on Her shoulder. She was never supposed to be fucking silent. All She fucking did was talk, and when she didn’t it was because Ben was touching Her the right way—carefully and devotoutly—and all she could say was pleas of his name. But those were still goddamn sounds. Perfect fucking sounds. Ben didn’t even hear Her goddamn voice until around the third week, when everyone had been gathered around Hughie’s laptop in the dining hall to watch a film premiere for Fish-Boy’s movie and Homelander had dropped down from the sky with Her in his arms.

She’d looked fucking terrible. Still perfect, always perfect, but not Her. Ben couldn’t miss the slight gray lines under her eyes the makeup wasn’t covering, or the sheer fucking emptiness on Her face. She kept tapping her finger on the ridiculous fucking dress they had Her in—dark blue with lace and velvet that made Her face twitch almost imperceptibly whenever she looked at it—and Her cheek was being pulled into her mouth. That had almost been it. Ben had almost decided to just goddamn fuck it and go get Her now. She wasn’t fine, Homelander was still goddamn touching Her, and fuck it all Ben was getting Her back. 

But She’d spoken. For the first time in three weeks, one day, nine hours, twenty-three minutes, and fifteen seconds, Ben heard Her voice. It had been mechanical, over-saturated, but Her voice. 

They’d asked Homelander another useless, brown-nosing question about Fish-Boy and supporting sea animals, and he’d met them with too many teeth and cold eyes. And told Her to answer it. 

“Marine wildlife and its safety and preservation is a cause that’s very important to us both,” She’d smiled at Homelander, and it hadn’t reached her eyes. “Which is why, after the premiere tonight, me and Homelander will be donating 2 million dollars to the Timothy Foundation!” 

“We really care about octopi,” Homelander had kept talking, and She’d still been fucking smiling at him. “And squid, and ocean slugs.” 

She’d blinked, and Ben saw the words flash across Her face. 

Slugs aren’t cephalopods, you fucking idiot. 

She’d said me and Homelander. Not Homelander and I. She was tired, and being fucking used like a puppet, but still Her. They were letting Her speak now, and when the pussy interviewer had asked Her to spin so they could see her full dress, Ben had seen it. A jewel hair pin, completely out of place. Too fucking elegant, too fucking Her for whatever the hell they had her wearing. Green. 

So Ben had to keep waiting. It was fucking killing him—especially as they let Her speak more and more and he had to keep hearing Her voice speak words that weren’t hers—but he fucking pushed through. He wasn’t a pussy, he was a goddamn man, and if She could keep herself together then Ben could as well. For Her. 

But it was still fucking destroying him. 

The nightmares got worse. The longer She was gone, the less Ben slept. Half because the couch was not meant to be slept on—Ben’s legs kept dangling uncomfortably off the side and he could only fit one arm at time—and half because he couldn’t fucking sleep. Not without Her there, not when she was in fucking danger and that thought was chasing him into his sleep. His nightmares weren’t about Russia anymore, they were of Her, screaming and screaming and begging Ben to help Her. And Ben never could. He’d run and turn the fucking world upside down but he could never fucking save her from Homelander. He’d drop at Her side, give Ben a cold grin, and they’d both fucking vanish. 

And Ben would wake up with the drums tearing out of his chest. 

At one month, one long, horrible, mindless and suffering month of being without Her, the Thing became painful. It had been painful, reminding Ben of everything he’d lost and how the whole world was fucking shit because She wasn’t there, but now it was starting to grow bloody. It hadn’t gotten weaker with Her absence, if anything it was becoming a fucking monster. Stronger, angrier, more goddamn insistent to tell Ben that one fucking thing. The one he couldn’t figure out, the one he had needed to tell Her and had never been able to. It couldn’t use words, so it used memories to try and fucking kill him. To try and make Ben understand what he just fucking couldn’t. To make him rip himself further apart because She wasn’t fucking there. The Thing only offered him good memories, which was worse. The horrible ones—the images flashing in his head of Her fear and terror that would climb into Ben and make him want to kill whatever was making Her hurt—were justified. Ben had fucking failed her. And they reminded him to just keep fucking going until she was gone.

The good ones made him want to die. 

The memories of Her legs tangled in Ben’s or wrapped around his torso. Of Her smiling at him with so much joy and Ben kissing her when she laughed because it would turn into a moan and those were the two best sounds in the whole fucking world. Of Ben touching her, casually and always, and her leaning into him and pressing her head into his chest. Of watching Her—he always watched her, she was like a fucking star and he couldn’t look away—and how he’d memorized every perfect fucking detail of Her face. Of how her eyes would light up when she looked at him, and She’d tell him she adored him. He fucking adored Her. She was fucking perfect, still fucking perfect, always goddamn perfect. And every single piece of Ben that mattered, his will and resolve and care and mind and blood, was trapped in the tower with Her. Leaving only his body and the Thing, wrathful and desperate, to ache. His whole world fucking ached because She wasn’t there. 

And Ben couldn’t fucking do shit to get Her back. 

The Pussy Brigade was working on it. Whenever Ben would yell at them or demand updates, they’d always say they were working on it. They’d leave for meetings and missions that they’d brief Ben on, but never let him just fucking help. Let him bring Her home. Ben couldn’t go out in public, not after the tower, not when he’d been declared Public Enemy #1 by Vought and was a threat to America in the eyes of the general population. So he was fucking benched. 

“We’ve got another lead,” MM had been giving a briefing, and Ben had been half-listening. All these meetings always amounted to the same thing. Ben stayed behind, the Pussy Bridage found nothing, and She was still fucking gone. “It’s on Sage, old member of Teenage Kix’s might know some sort of fucking psychological weakness we can use against her.” 

Most of the fucking missions were about Sage. Trying to figure out what she was planning, what her long-game was, how they could get her out of the picture for an easier shot at Homelander. The pussy had locked down all of the Seven, and was taking goddamn precautions. Limited press, limited public appearances, all the focus on Her and Homelander’s fake fucking love story. On how Vought was trying to take Ben down for justice, to avenge Her. Fucking protect the country. 

“I don’t think she has psychological weaknesses,” Annie had frowned. “I think we need to be focusing on what her plan is-“

“Or we could just bloody kill her,” Butcher’s glare had been around the whole table, even at Ben. Which was stupid, because he was entirely in fucking favor of killing Sage. “Take her out permanently. Blow a hole in her fuckin chest that she ain’t gonna heal from.” 

“If you find an actual window for that,” MM had snapped. “Then let us know. Until then, we’re following the lead.” 

“It ain’t even a good lead, Mate.” Butcher had grumbled. “It’s fuckin useless. We’re not makin any progress chasing leads.” 

Ben agreed. He might have even spoken up and told MM that Butcher was, for once, fucking right about something, but the asshole never knew when to shut his mouth. 

Butcher had said Her name, and Ben had seen red. “Still with fuckin Homelander. And we don’t know what type of shit he’s doin to her while we sit on our asses-“ 

“Shut the fuck up, you fucking asswipe of a pussy.” Ben’s hiss had been a promise. A threat of blood on the tiles and Butcher’s brains scattered across the table. Butcher didn’t get to talk about Her. Didn’t get to say what she’d want, or imagine what pain Homelander was inflicting upon her, or even fucking think about her. She was lost because Butcher made her think she was worth less than the Kid, was worth less than all of them, was better off as a fucking pawn. So Butcher didn’t get to fucking say Her name.

“I’m fuckin defending her, Gov.” Butcher hadn’t stood down, because he was a goddamn self-assured idiot. “We’re all tryin to get her back-“

“I said,” Ben had pushed back the bench, standing with his fists clenched. “Shut the goddamn fucking hell up. You’re the piece of shit who said we had to wait. And you don’t get to fucking defend her, she’s not yours to fucking defend.” 

“But she’s yours?” Butcher had sneered, rising as well with tensed arms. “She’s your fucking woman? Your Sunshine? You think she feels like you’re fucking defendin her, when she’s trapped with Homelander?” 

She was Ben’s. Ben was Her’s. They didn’t fucking own each other, but She was Ben’s. To protect, to make happy, to hold and touch and- 

“Watch your fucking mouth.” Ben could hear the drums somewhere in the distance. “Or I’ll fucking kill you. You’re a weak, pathetic, excuse for a man, a manipulative, lying, backstabbing pussy. You couldn’t defend her if you fucking tried.” 

Butcher had been about to hit him. Ben had seen his fist curl, seen the flash of violence in his eyes, and fucking prayed Butcher was going to hit him. To throw a fist at Ben that he’d let land, to fucking feel it. Real, physical pain, instead of this never ending fucking ache. Then he’d fucking kill Butcher. It would be justified, the pussy would’ve thrown the first punch, so Ben could cover his hands in Butcher’s guts as he tore them out and nobody would say shit. He’d have proof, real fucking evidence, that he was fighting for Her. That he was doing goddamn something. 

But Butcher hadn’t hit him. He’d just glared, and Ben had stormed out of the dining hall. Back to exile in their apartment. Without Her. 

Hughie had tried to follow him. To fucking apologize.

“Soldier Boy!” His weak, nervous voice had called after Ben, and he’d felt fucking sick. He had never hated his supe name before, it had been his whole fucking life. He’d been fine with the Pussy Brigade using it, because to them he was Soldier Boy, and he got to be Ben to Her. But She hadn��t called him Ben in a month. He’d only heard his supe name. And now he fucking loathed it. 

He’d kept walking, and heard Hughie’s heart speed up as he chased after him.

“Wait, please just,” Hughie had taken a large gasp. “Holy shit, you walk fast. I just want to talk-“ 

“Go fucking talk to Annie,” Ben hadn’t turned around. “We’re not fucking buddies, Kid. I don’t have shit to say to you.” 

“It’s not about me-“ 

“I don’t fucking care.” 

“It’s about her!” Hughie had stopped running, just yelling Her name after Ben. “I want to talk about her!” 

Ben had turned. Not to talk. He didn’t have single fucking interest in talking about Her with anyone. But he’d needed Hughie to see his face when he spoke. “Don’t fucking say her name.” 

“She’s, she’s my friend too-“ 

“I don’t give a fucking flying shit what she is to you!” Ben had roared, closing the space between him and Hughie with furious, long steps. “Or Annie, or Butcher, or fucking anybody. She’s fucking-“ 

“She’s something to you.” Hughie had, in an act of bravery Ben hadn’t imagined him capable of, cut him off. “She’s something really important to you. Something more to you. I, uh, I don’t really know what, but I know she is. And I just, I wanted to ask if you were okay. With her not here. You haven’t really talked to us-“ 

“Shut the fuck up.” Ben wasn’t about to talk about his fucking feelings. Not with Hughie, not with fucking any of them. Ben’s feelings weren’t important right now, and they weren’t for the Pussy Brigade to ever fucking see. Let alone fucking talk to him about. 

“I’m, I think she wouldn’t want you to feel guilty.” Hughie had stood his ground, and Ben was almost impressed. “She cares about you. Like a lot, a kind of insane amount. And we all care about her, but she really, really cares about you. And like I said, she’s kind of more to you. So I just, I want to help.”

She was more to Ben. She was the whole fucking world to Ben. Fucking perfect, and she wouldn’t want Ben to feel guilty. She’d probably fucking apologize to him, or get pissed at him for being a dick to Hughie.

You’re being a baby, Benjamin. Her voice ran through his head. This isn’t anyone's fault. Not Hughie’s, not yours. I mean, a lot of things are your fault, but this isn’t one. 

Ben didn’t fucking care. He’d still lost Her. He might miss Her, and it might be destroying him that She was gone, but he’d see Her again. Soon. And he wouldn’t fucking break, so that She could. When she was safe. With him. 

“I’m not a fucking pathetic pussy who needs you to jerk me off about my goddamn emotions.” Ben had sneered at Hughie. “And she’s not fucking here. So don’t pretend you’d know what she’d fucking say or do or want.” 

None of them fucking knew Her like Ben did. None of them had any clue what She’d want, they barely had a grasp of what She fucking do, and they wouldn’t let Ben tell them. They knew he wouldn’t leave, not until She was home, but they still didn’t trust him. Not like She trusted him. Not like Ben trusted Her. And any care they had for Her was worth nothing compared to how She was fucking everything to Ben. How he was fucking devoted to Her, how he- 

“What would she want?” Hughie had asked, taking a slight step back but not leaving. “What do you think she would do?” 

“She’d talk to Neuman.” Ben had shocked himself with the words, because they’d fucking fallen out of him with certainty. She would talk to Neuman. And She wouldn’t bother asking about Sage. She’d look for breaks in Vought, or Homelander.

Sage is too smart to leave a leak. Her voice mused in Ben’s head. We need an in. A way to pull Homelander’s attention and trust away from her, or find a breach that Homelander is responsible for. He’s not a fan of being told what to do. You need to exploit something she can’t control or predict. Neuman worked with them both. She’d have an idea what they clashed about, and we can use that. 

Hughie had stared at Ben. “Neuman? What would Vicki-“ 

“She worked with Homelander and Sage.” Ben had echoed his imagined words of Her, saying Her name and trying not to let it hurt. “Would think chasing after Sage’s weaknesses was stupid. She’d think it’s a waste of time, especially after a fucking month with no result.” It’s the definition of madness, Benjamin. This door isn’t opening, you can’t brute force your way through it. Find another entrance. “She’d want to talk to someone reliable. Find another fucking way, that actually works.” 

Ben had left Hughie gaping in the hall, and marched away. Back to the apartment. Alone. 

Another week passed, and nobody had called Ben for a meeting. He was running out of patience. They were nowhere fucking closer to Her. He had to keep fucking watching her on the TV, watch Homelander touch her incorrectly and repulsively, watch Her smile in a way that wasn’t hers. He was kept from insanity by those small moments that proved She wasn’t gone, just not safe, but Ben was at the end of his fucking line. 

He was about to do something. Every day he’d been getting closer to doing what he should’ve from the fucking start, because the Pussy Brigade kept saying they were playing this like She would, but they fucking weren’t. Ben knew how she’d play this, he’d even damn spelled it out for them, and they were still doing it fucking wrong. 

He was going to do something. Today. Now. Ben was going to just fucking risk it, and everyone could hate him and he couldn’t give a single shit about that. He was getting Her back, his way, today- 

His phone buzzed. Lighting up with a message from Hughie. It stabbed Ben’s chest to have to read it, because he had to look at Her face on his lockscreen and see the name She’d entered for Hughie’s contact. But he did anyway. He wasn’t a fucking pussy. He could read a damn text. 

Hughie Campbell; Cocksucker, don’t be a cunt.

We’re having a meeting.

Please come ASAP. 

When Ben arrived in the dining hall, everyone was gathered around Hughie’s laptop again. He was starting to think this was some sort of fucking mating ritual of theirs, with how damn often they did it. 

“Oh, you’re here.” Hughie sounded surprised. As if he hadn’t fucking told Ben to come. “You’re uh, on time. The call hasn’t started.” 

“What the fuck are you talking about.” 

“We’re calling Neuman,” MM snapped, meeting Ben’s eyes with a glare. “Congrats, motherfucker. Looks like your idea might actually work.” 

Ben scowled, but stalked around the table. He didn’t gather in their little fucking herd—standing off to the side as they all shot him glances—but waited. They were finally fucking being half as smart as She was, so he’d put up with their weird looks and goddamn attitudes to make sure they didn’t fuck this up. 

Neuman appeared on the screen after five minutes of heavy silence. Ben immediately knew where she was. His old room, in the safe house.

For her sake, he hoped someone had fucking cleaned it before she arrived. 

“Hi, guys.” Neuman’s voice crackled slightly, but the video remained smooth. “Mallory said you had some questions for me?” 

“How are you, Vicki?” Hughie asked, apparently with no fucking sense of urgency. “Have you and Zoe settled okay?” 

“We’re good,” Neuman shrugged. “I mean, a little stir-crazy, but good. I heard about the Anomaly, I’m really sorry-“ 

“This is actually about her.” As Annie spoke, Ben’s fists tightened at this side. “We’re, uh, we’re trying to find a weakness in Homelander. Kill him faster, get her back. And we were wondering if you had any ideas.” 

“Ideas?” 

“You worked with both the cunt himself and Sage,” Butcher drawled. “You can’t be fuckin clueless as to what they might be plannin.” 

“I mean,” Neuman frowned. “I remember Sage was trying to develop a gas to use against Soldier Boy-“ 

“We got that already,” MM leaned forward, slightly over Hughie’s head. “We’re thinking more long term shit. Something we can use against Homelander, something that might make him turn away from Sage. She’s the real threat right now. We’ve got Soldier Boy to blast Homelander, but we can’t get a shot as long as Sage is keeping him in check.” 

“Huh,” Neuman’s face twisted in thought. “I’m not sure. In November, right before Maine, I heard Homelander and Sage fighting about something. Homelander had gone somewhere and not told her. She said if word got out it could ruin everything she’d planned, and he said she wasn’t his boss, he was hers, and it had been for his own health.” 

“Health?” Annie frowned. “He’s invulnerable.” 

“Mental health,” Neuman corrected herself. “He said he needed closure. That he’d gotten it, and now he could move forward.” 

“The hell would that asshole need closure about?” MM and Butcher exchanged looks. “He kills everyone he hates, everyone who threatens him. He doesn’t have a family-“ Ben didn’t miss the pause, or everyone’s quick looks in his direction before MM continued. “Or at least one that matters. No childhood, no friends, no past. The fuck-“ 

“He was made in a lab, no?” It was the French Prick who spoke up, looking around at his team for confirmation. “That is his childhood. Maybe that is what he needed to move forward from.” 

Butcher nodded slowly. “Prick is bloody obsessed with family. That was his whole fuckin thing with Ryan and-“ 

Her. That was Homelander who fucking thing with Her. And Ben wasn’t going to let Butcher fucking say it. He stormed forward, into Neuman’s view. 

“Where the hell is Homelander’s lab. Where they fucking grew him, or raised him, or any of that fucking shit.” 

Neuman gaped at him, shaking her head slightly before speaking. “It was, um, I don’t really know. Sage said he couldn’t just disappear right now, and Homelander said he hadn’t even left the city. So he was in New York, but I don’t know where.” 

“It’s a big fucking city,” MM muttered behind Ben. “I don’t think we’ve got the time to comb it for one lab.“ 

Kimiko was signing something to the French Prick. Fast, with a determined face and a lot of nods. 

“What the fuck is she saying,” Ben snapped, and could feel MM’s glare through his skull. He didn’t fucking care. 

“She said that sounds similar to where they kept her,” the French Prick said Her name for clarity, watching Kimiko carefully. “That we found that by looking for the dead scientist. That the Homelander probably was not paying his childhood home a visit for fond memories.” He looked over Ben, at Butcher. “She wants to tell Monsieur Butcher that when they made her into a monster, they tried to find weaknesses. She thinks they might have done the same for the Homelander.” 

“MM,” Butcher said, and Ben looked back to see him frowning. “Call Grace. Tell her we need any records of Vought scientists she’s got. Lad,” Hughie turned as well, blinking at Butcher. “Keep talkin to Neuman. See what else she’s got while we work this.” 

Butcher started to walk away, and Ben followed. Blocking the asshole in his path. 

“The bloody hell is your problem-“ 

“I’m going on this one.” Ben snapped. “There’s not fucking shit you can do to stop me. We won’t be in public, this is the best fucking lead we’ve gotten in a goddamn month, and I’m fucking going to check it. Make sure you pussies don’t fuck it up.” 

He thought Butcher would argue. Tell Ben to shove it, that he was still benched. But he just looked Ben up and down with a scowl and narrowed eyes, and shrugged. 

“Your fuckin funeral, mate.”

Ben let Butcher walk around him, and stalked back to the table. Sitting silently off to the side as Hughie, Annie, and Kimiko all spoke to Neuman. The French Prick had left with MM, leaving Kimiko to type her thoughts on Her phone, but Hughie always repeated them aloud for Neuman, and Ben had fucking ears. Nothing interesting happened—New Noir was weird, Neuman was pretty sure Ashley was bald, and something called a Believe Expo was happening in a week—until the end of the hour. 

“How are you guys holding up?” Neuman asked, and Hughie shrugged. 

“I mean, we’re fine. Can you, uh, repeat the thing about the Deep-“ 

“What, that he’s an octopus fucker?” Ben couldn’t see Neuman’s face, but she sounded exasperated. “You already knew that Hughie. I’ve told you everything I have, I just want to talk to my friends.” 

“We’re okay, Vicki,” Hughie glanced across the table to Ben, watching silently. “I mean, it’s rough, but we’re okay.” 

“How is everyone, with the whole Anomaly thing?” 

Ben really fucking wished they’d all stop looking at him like that. Like he was about to start fucking crying. 

“We’re mostly just worried about her,” Annie said slowly. “I mean, we miss her. It’s weird without her here. But there’s not much we can do until we kill Homelander.” 

“That sounds like Butcher talk, Annie.” Nueman said flatly. “That doesn’t sound like you guys.” 

“It is Butcher talk,” Hughie admitted, rubbing his neck. “But he’s not always wrong-“ 

“I didn’t say he was,” Neuman interrupted. “I just wouldn’t trust his judgment with this. I mean, he’s being a hypocrite.” 

Annie frowned, glancing up at Ben again. At his hands, curled into white-knuckled fists as he listened. “About what? Like, with Ryan?” 

“No,” Hughie shook his head, giving Annie a sad look. “Becca. That’s what you’re talking about, right, Vicki?” 

“It is. I mean, this is almost exactly like Becca. And you told me he was doing anything to get her back. But Soldier Boy-“ 

All eyes shot up to Ben, and he held their weak, nervous fucking gazes as Hughie cut off Neuman with a stutter. 

“He’s, uh, Vicki he’s here. Soldier Boy, he kind of, uh, he’s listening.” 

Neuman didn’t falter. “Good, he should hear this. Butcher had a wife, Homelander did to her what he’s done to the Anomaly. And Butcher did pretty much anything he could to get her back. Searched for her, killed for her, whatever he could to get her back. I mean, Stan even told me they cut a deal for it. If Butcher wasn’t such a heartless asshole, he’d care more about Soldier Boy and the Anomaly. About how Becca didn’t seem like the type who would want him to let what happened to them happen to anyone else.” 

Hughie swallowed. “I don’t think he doesn’t care, or isn’t trying to help her. I just-“

“Hughie, don’t make excuses for him. I saw how Soldier Boy was about her. Like Butcher was for Becca. And if he’s still there, then that old asshole should know that Butcher did whatever it took for Becca. He might even be right, but he’s still a hypocrite.” 

Ben left. If they all kept looking at him like that, with all that fucking pity, he’d lose his goddamn mind. He already fucking knew about Butcher’s wife. The Kid’s mother. He’d learned about her on the first go. She’d had Homelander’s son, got killed, Butcher had made her some sort of fucking promise, and Ben hadn’t given a fucking shit about any of it.

But he’d never known Becca Butcher. He’d heard Her talk about Becca, when she’d yelled at Butcher about Homelander and when they’d been planning to trade Her in for Ryan, months ago. But he’d never known about Becca outside of those sparse details. He didn’t know the lengths that Butcher had gone to. Lengths he wasn’t allowing Ben to go to for Her. 

Ben was going to fucking kill him. 

Jesus, Benjamin. Were you even listening to Neuman? 

Shut up. His voice in his own head was a growl. Ben didn’t need Her voice to tell him off right now, because even in his head she was always fucking right, and Ben didn’t have any interest in being talked out of this. 

You shut up. Butcher’s a dick, but he’s not an idiot. 

He’s a fucking hypocrite, Sunshine. You’d be fucking home if he wasn’t such a goddamn cold-hearted pussy. I’d have gotten you day one if Butcher hadn’t stopped me. 

You wouldn’t have gotten me, though. Butcher’s, for once, right. Homelander would’ve hidden me the moment you stepped foot in the tower. 

Homelander hid Becca. Butcher still fucking fought to get her back. 

Becca died, Ben. She’s like, really dead. 

Ben faltered for a second. Becca had died. That doesn’t fucking mean anything. 

I’d say it’s kind of important. If I’m really Becca two, then maybe Butcher’s just trying not to get me killed as well. 

You can’t fucking die. And you’re you, not Butcher’s fucking dead wife. 

I know that. All I’m saying is maybe Butcher just doesn’t want you to lose me, like he lost Becca. 

I don’t think he gives a fuck about me that much, Ben drawled Her name in his head, and could almost fucking hear Her sigh. 

He’s not heartless, Ben. I mean, he’s a cunt. But he’s not Homelander. He’s capable of thinking of others, sometimes. 

Ben wasn’t a fan of how, when She was just a voice in his head, he couldn’t shut Her up by kissing her. He had to listen to Her, and she was always fucking right. She was too good, too kind, but right.

Ben didn’t kill Butcher. And, when he was called to the dining hall two days later for a briefing, there was finally a fucking plan. 

“We’re heading to Queens,” MM was stood at the head of the table, Butcher a pace behind him. “A group of known Vought scientists and a handful of chem and bio majors at NYU interning with Vought all went missing round November, and they all got cars that were parked in Queens. Mallory found a building that’s getting electrically wired underground, and we’re going to check it out. Got it?”

Annie raised her hand, and MM nodded. “Do we have a way in? If it’s a Vought building-“ 

“Ain’t nobody been seen entering it since all those fuckin nerds vanished,” Butcher shrugged. “I’d wager we’ll just walk right in.” 

“What about security, Butcher. Keycards. Locks.” 

“We’ve got America’s strongest cunt comin with us,” Butcher shot Ben a smirk. “You think you can open a locked door, Gov?” 

Ben scowled at him. “You fucking know I can, you pussy.” 

“That’s the bloody spirit.” 

“Do we, uh, what are we looking for?” Hughie glanced nervously between Ben and Butcher as he spoke. “Is it just kind of a pray we find something situation, or is there like something specific?” 

Butcher didn’t stop glaring at Ben as he answered. “A weakness, Lad. Anythin that Homelander or Sage wouldn’t want us to see or know.” 

Hughie nodded. “Like a weapon? Or a drug?” 

“We’re not sure yet, kid. But I’m sure there will be something.” MM sighed, then muttered under his breath. “There better be fucking something.” 

“Oh, okay. So it’s all of us, or-“ 

“Me, Soldier Boy, MM, Kimiko, and Frenchie. You and Starlight will stay and hold down the fort.” Butcher clasped Hughie on the back, and Hughie gave a sputtering cough. Idiot had just put water in his mouth. “Try not to fuck on the tables while we’re gone.” 

“We’re not going to fuck on the tables, asshole.” 

Butcher winked at Annie. “Long as you clean up after yourselves, I don’t care where you twats fuck.” 

“It’s not your business-“ 

“As much as I’d love to have another long and graphic conversation about my co-workers sex lives,” MM cut Annie off with a glare at Butcher. “Can we get our fucking asses up and into the van?” 

“I’m not the one who can’t keep it in my fuckin pants, Mate-“ 

“We all keep it in our pants!” Annie was almost shouting. “Everyone keeps it in their pants, it’s not our fault we’re capable of love, you lonely, bitter asshole!” 

“Love ain’t lust, Starlight-“ 

“Can we please fucking move-“ 

Ben stood up, and the Thing was trying to fucking kill him. It was Her, she had to know that unspeakable fucking thing Ben couldn’t goddamn understand- 

“Where the hell do you think you’re going?” MM shouted after him, Butcher and Annie still locked in their pointless fucking argument that was making the Thing go feral. 

“I’m fucking getting ready.” Ben snapped, not bothering to turn. “And I want a gun.” 

He didn’t wait to hear MM’s response. If they wouldn’t give Ben a gun, he’d take one. And there was not a fucking world where they could stop him from bringing his shield or wearing his suit. This was fucking important, and their bitching and moaning about protocol and safety wasn’t going to help with fucking shit. 

I feel like you just really want a gun, Ben. Her voice hummed, carrying through the silence of their apartment. 

I do want a fucking gun. It’s a goddamn useful weapon. 

You’ve done fine without one before.

No, I didn’t. I gave you my gun and I fucking lost you.  

And how the hell would the gun have stopped that? 

I don’t fucking know. But it would’ve. 

You can just want the gun, you know. You’re allowed to just want something. 

I only fucking want you. Ben's jaw was going to crack. The gun will help me get you. I don’t want the damn gun, I want you. 

Aw, I want you too, Pretty Boy. 

You as well. 

Fuck you. 

“I wish I fucking could, Sunshine.” 

He’d spoken aloud again. He had to fucking control that better, or the Pussy Brigade would start asking questions Ben didn’t want to answer. 

They were taking the Pussy Mobile. Butcher’s car only fit five—a limited they’d tested once and had no interest in testing again—and nobody seemed thrilled with Ben’s pitch of just leaving Butcher behind, so he found himself in their awful fucking van, pressed up against the wall without Her at his side. The ride was silent, and Her ghost—not a fucking ghost, she wasn’t fucking dead—whispered in his ear the whole goddamn way to the Bronx. 

Do you think they ever clean this thing? 

No. 

I mean, they have to. They all get shot and beat up way too much for it to not be a biohazard. 

It doesn’t fucking smell like they clean it. 

But MM’s like, obsessed with cleaning. I don’t think he’d step foot in here if they didn’t. 

Maybe this is where Butcher jerks off. MM cleans it and Butcher jerks off right after. 

Her giggle rattled around Ben’s head. What type of porn do you think he watches? 

Hentai. 

How the fuck do you know what Hentai is, old man. 

There was fucking hentai in the 80s, Sunshine. I’m not a damn dinosaur. 

See, I don’t believe that. 

Doesn’t fucking matter what you believe. You’re the one who’s going to fucking benefit from my years of experience and study. 

Ben could see the flush of her face somewhere behind his eyes. Could just fucking hear Her heartbeat pick up, a million miles away. 

Shut up. 

Someone backs down real fucking fast when she’s horny. 

I’m not the one who just promised to fuck me with tentacles. 

I never said shit about tentacles. 

Fuck you. 

I want to. 

You’re impressively horny, Benjamin. 

It’s all for you, beautiful. 

Thanks, that means a lot. I’ve always aspired to be an old man’s spank bank. 

Brat. 

Cunt. And you’re wrong. Butcher is actually into femdom. 

Ben snorted aloud, and the French Prick gave him a strange look. 

He was losing his fucking mind. He missed her, and he was losing his damn sanity over it. 

This better fucking work. 

Butcher had been—fucking annoyingly—right. They all but walked right through the front door, down into the basement, and found the elevator. Without any damn buttons. 

Butcher hadn’t been right. Good. 

“What the fuck are supposed to do now?” MM scowled at the sealed metal doors. “We don’t have a keycard, and there aren’t any more stairs-“ 

“I’m fucking thinking, MM, calm the bloody hell down-“ 

Ben’s attention was pulled away when Kimiko tugged on his sleeve, looking up at him with wide eyes. “What the hell do you want.” 

She waved the French Prick over and began rapidly signing, occasionally pointing between herself and Ben. 

“Mon Coeur,” the French Prick frowned, glancing at Ben. “I am not sure that this is a good idea.” 

She shook her head, and repeated a lot of the same signs once more.

“But-“ 

She covered the French Prick’s mouth with a hand, pointing at Ben again before removing it. 

“Very well,” the French Prick addressed Ben with a twitchy gaze. “She says both you and she could go down the shaft. Send the elevator up after you. But,” the French Prick looked back at Kimiko. “Mon Coeur, what if you cannot send the elevator-“ 

“That’s a good fucking idea.” Ben snapped. “Tell her that’s a goddamn good fucking idea.” 

Kimiko flipped Ben off, and the French Prick sighed. 

“She can hear you.”

“I don’t give a shit what she can and can’t hear. We’re doing that.” He turned over to MM and Butcher, still fucking arguing. “Me and her,” Ben pointed to Kimiko, still glaring at him. “Are going down.” 

“The fuck are you on about.” MM grunted, looking between them wearily. “Frenchie-“ 

“Kimiko wishes for Soldier Boy to open the doors, then they will both jump down the shaft. They will survive, and send the elevator up for us.” 

“Ain’t no way in Satan’s fucking taint we’re letting you out of our sight, Gov.” Butcher sneered. “Me and MM will figure it out, and you’ll follow our fuckin orders-“ 

“Fuck you, Butcher.” Ben marched over to the elevator. “I’m not going to fucking run or betray you. I’m not a fucking backstabber, and if I wanted to pull something I would’ve already.” 

As Ben pulled the metal apart, ripping the doors open with ease, he still fucking heard MM’s low mutter to Butcher. These fucking pussies kept forgetting he had super hearing. 

“He’s not lying, Butcher. If he was going to betray us, he’d have done it in fucking February. When she went soft of him.” 

“MM, you of all damn fuckers-“ 

“I know what I’m fucking saying.” MM’s voice had gone cold. “I goddamn know who I’m defending. And I also know he’s not going anywhere. Not until Homelander’s dead.” 

Not until She’s back. MM didn’t have to say it. He knew, just as well as Ben knew, that he was fucking stuck here until She returned to him. Technically he could run. He could fuck the whole lot of them and break out, but he wouldn’t. He couldn’t leave Her—with Homelander or just in fucking general—so he wouldn’t go anywhere until She could go with him. 

And Butcher fucking knew it as well, so the asshole fell silent, and let Ben pry the doors fully open. 

Nobody ended even fucking needing to jump down, making the whole goddamn argument pointless. The elevator was stuck right at their level, and didn’t require a keycard to operate, so they were able to all fucking ride it down the normal way. 

When they finally halted after far too goddamn long and the doors opened with a pleasant ding, the smell hit Ben’s nose first. The whole lab, tubes and equipment and computers, was covered in a goddamn horrible smell. It was rotten, and fucking disgusting. 

“Merdre,” the French Prick spoke first, the group filtering off the elevator. “I am not the only one who is smelling this, non?”

“I sure as shit do,” MM glanced around the lab as they spread out and spotted the brain-crushed, pantless, very dead man who had a clean hole right through his fucking dick. “But it’s fucking putrid, it can’t just be Dick-hole.” 

“If someone finds a candle or somethin,” Butcher drawled. “We’ll light it. Until then we’ve fuckin work to do.” 

Ben stared around the lab, and his eyes landed on a large, red door. Sealed shut, burn marks scorched around it. It took only five seconds to open it. One to wish he hadn’t fucking bothered. 

“Christ on a fucking Cross.” Ben muttered. “It’s not just Dick-hole.” 

It was blood. Fucking bodies and blood and rotting flesh smeared and torn across the room. A slowly decaying body of a woman—untouched save for being tied to a chair and half her face having fucking fallen off in death—was in the corner, but everyone else had been ripped limb from fucking limb. 

“Bloody hell,” Butcher muttered, a few feet behind Ben. “I’d say it’s a safe wager that Homelander’s visit wasn’t a happy fuckin reunion.” 

“Holy fucking shit!” Ben turned to find MM’s face twisted in a nausea, hands raised like if he blocked the view it might vanish. “Some warning might have been fucking appreciated-“ 

“We ain’t got time for warnings, MM.” Butcher started moving around the lab, poking over papers and frowning at folders. “Faster we find what we’re fuckin lookin for, faster we get out of this place.” 

It took four hours. Four whole goddamn hours for four grown fucking men and Kimiko to tear apart the whole goddamn lab and find absolutely nothing of use. Ben took half of the room—he moved faster than all four of the pussies combined—while MM and Kimiko searched their half closer to the elevator and the French Prick and Butcher searched closer to the door. Files and papers and records and half-finished experiments all amounting to goddamn zero. They overturned tables, ripped plaster off of walls, and shouted at each other to keep fucking looking. Still finding nothing. Not a goddamn thing. Kimiko gave up first, around hour two, and turned on the old TV in the corner of the lab. Squatting down next to Dick-hole and watching the only channel the piece of shit seemed to get, Vought News Network. The French Prick joined her almost immediately, and around hour three MM stood off to the side—away from Dick-hole—and watched with them. 

By hour four it was just Ben and Butcher. Destroying whatever was fucking left. Finding nothing. 

Butcher grabbed Ben’s shoulder, and Ben nearly fucking punched his face in on instinct. 

“Calm your bloody shit, Gov, I ain’t tryin to fight.”

“Then what the fuck-“ 

“Nobody’s cleared the office. It’s the last check on our list.” 

Butcher was right. Nobody had stepped foot in the maggoty, fly ridden and foul smelling office. They’d all shot it looks of repulsion, but nobody had actually set foot in the guts and innards. 

“I am not fucking going in there, Butcher.” MM called from the TV. 

“I ain’t askin you, but someone’s fuckin gonna have to-“ 

Ben didn’t wait to hear any more of their pointless arguing. He spun around and stomped into the room, ignoring how everything smelled so much goddamn worse when he had to be surrounded by it. He turned over severed legs, marred torsos, and one face still twisted in a scream, looking for fucking something. Anything. A single goddamn thing that could help them- 

There’s a desk, Benjamin. Maybe check the desk. 

Shut the fuck up. 

I mean, it’s pretty obviously right there- 

I said shut up. 

Cunt. 

Brat.

What would you do without me? 

Fucking die. Ben would fucking die without Her. He was fucking dying without Her. Nothing fucking mattered, nothing was beautiful anymore. He was losing his mind, but it didn’t matter because She wasn’t here to lose it with him. 

You’re just a voice in my head, Sunshine. I’m the one who saw the desk in real goddamn life. 

Maybe. He could fucking see Her shrug. But I’m the one who pointed it out. 

Ben rolled his eyes as he searched through the desk, and tried to ignore the wrath of the Thing inside him. How much he fucking missed Her. How he was dying without Her. How he was pretty fucking sure that’s why the Thing was growing so agonizing. He was simply just going to die without Her. 

There, Ben. Files. 

They’re covered in fucking blood. 

Literally everything’s covered in fucking blood. Get the files. 

It was a simple manila folder with CLASSIFIED written large black letters but no other apparent precautions to keep it classified. Ben thumbed through them, not really fucking sure what he was actually looking for. 

It’s like porn, Pretty Boy. You’ll know it when you see it. 

Half the files were redacted, the other half were full of a bunch of fucking science words Ben didn’t understand. But one, stained in rusting red and typed in faded, small letters, looked important. Ben squinted at the words, and he’d found it. He’d fucking found it. 

He stomped out of the room, shoving the papers into Butcher’s hands. 

“The bloody shit is this.” 

“Read it.” Ben snapped. “Use your fucking eyes and read it.” 

Butcher’s brow furrowed, scanning the page, and looked back up at Ben with a wide grin. “Well fuckin done, Gov.” 

“What is it?” MM called, pushing off the wall. “The hell did you find.” 

“Homelander’s fuckin recipe.” Butcher smirked back down at the paper, reading it aloud in a gleeful tone. “Due to the nature of the donor,” Butcher winked at Ben. “The boy will be immune and unaffected by the original formula of compound V. His DNA had been engineered to engage with specific elements of the drug (i.e. strength, durability, enhanced hearing and vision) and ignore others (i.e. immortality, complete healing factor) and as such additional shots will be null.” Butcher looked up at MM with a childlike grin. “Cunt ages no matter what. If we don’t get him, fuckin time will.” 

“Butcher, we can’t just wait fifty fucking years for time-“ 

“Don’t lose your pants, mate, there’s more,” Butcher’s attention returned to the paper. “Comparatively, the compound V used in other super-abled subjects will overload the boy’s body, sending him into a temporary vegetative state. Unlike the original formula, modern V shots act as only an enhancer on the subject, and his body is designed for an exact amount, blah, blah, lot more of the same shit.” Butcher looked around the room, and Ben had never seen him look this genuinely fucking happy. “We’ve fuckin got it. We’ve finally fuckin got it.” 

MM shook his head slowly. “You’re telling me, this whole goddamn time, all we’ve had to do was shoot the motherfucker up with V?” 

“Occam’s fuckin Razor,” Butcher shrugged. “We’ll need to get a real bloody sharp needle, and some V, but then we’re fucking golden. Sage won’t matter if we can turn the cunt into a coma patient.” 

“We could go to the Believe Expo,” the French Prick had turned away from the TV, but was still sat next to Kimiko and Dick-hole. “That is where they were previously transporting the V, it is a good start.” 

“Bloody good idea, Frenchie,” Butcher nodded, a maniacal grin still plastered across his face. “Let’s head out, we’ve got some fuckin work to do.” 

The French Prick started to rise, but Kimiko grabbed his hand and pulled him back down. 

“Mon Coeur-“ 

She grabbed his head, physically turning the French Prick’s eyes back to the screen. Ben’s followed, even as MM and Butcher moved to the elevator, and he froze in place. 

It was Her. In that same stupid fucking news room Homelander had been dragging Her to, wearing a fucking costume. An all red supe costume that she’d have made fun of. Called frivolous and gaudy and other pointlessly big words. It look ridiculous and out of goddamn place on Her body. On Her—too fucking perfect to be wearing so stupid—across from the Haircut, smiling. 

No Homelander. 

“Oi, Gov, let’s fuckin move-“ 

“Shut the fuck up.” Ben stomped to stand behind Kimiko and the French Prick, unable to rip his eyes from the screen as the interview began. 

The Haircut spoke first. “Anomaly, thank you for joining us today.” 

She smiled. No teeth, no light joy. Fucking empty. “Thank you for having me.” 

Her voice was too high, too sweet, with no edge or amusement. It made Ben’s skin fucking crawl. 

“Now, this is your first interview since you’ve returned from Soldier Boy’s captivity. How have you been recovering?” 

“As well as I can be,” She wasn’t even blinking. Like a damn robot. “Homelander has been incredibly supportive and understanding, but it’s been hard to keep it in.” 

The Haircut leaned forward. “Keep what in?” 

“The truth,” Her face was a portrait of sadness and confliction. Her pout too large, her eyes too doe-like, timidness slathered on every feature. “It’s been so hard to recover, fully recover and move on, when nobody even knows.” 

“What the fuckin hell is she doin?” Butcher and MM had walked up behind Ben, and Butcher’s grunt was low. Almost worried. 

On the TV The Haircut, still smiling at Her, was blinking in surprise, shooting looks off the camera. “Um, that sounds very difficult-“

“I mean,” She gave a pained sigh. “I just can’t believe they’ve tricked you.” 

Nobody in the lab was breathing. Ben wasn’t fucking breathing, trying to just focus on Her words over the rapid heartbeats around him. 

“I’m not sure I’m following-“ 

“Starlight!” Her voice had gotten desperate. Turned into packaged, too loud, exaggerated desperation. “She’s been lying to all of you, working with Soldier Boy since the start! The CIA, they woke,” she gave a choked sound. “Soldier Boy,  he never died, and they woke him up to use against Homelander. They’ve forgiven all his crimes against this great country and have been trying to use him to kill Homelander! And Starlight’s been helping him keep me away! They were going to use me as bait, because they knew he’d always save me, and then kill him!” 

She broke down in tears as the Haircut gaped at Her. Pretty tears, with no sobs or screams or gasps. Just pretty, pouting tears. 

“What the hell-“ 

MM’s words were cut off by the Haircut, giving Her a comforting, nervous part on the arm as he spoke. “That’s, wow. I mean, you heard it here first, folks. Soldier Boy isn’t in fact a terrorist, but a CIA plant, working with Starlight to kill our great heroes. I, uh,” the Haircut looked back to Her. “Is there anything you’d like to say? To Soldier Boy?” 

She fanned Her face, wiping away one stray tear. “If he's listening, I just want him to know I’m not broken.” The Haircut pointed down the camera, and She turned to stare into it. Through the screen, right at Ben. “You tried to burn me, but I’m not broken. And I’ll see you soon.” 

“For justice?” 

She smiled at the Haircut weakly. “Of course.” 

As the Haircut moved onto a commercial break, Ben stared at Her through the screen. In Her stupid fucking costume, giving the Haircut a fake fucking smile. And Ben’s blood felt hot. 

When the TV clicked off, Butcher spoke first. “What the bloody fuckin shit was that.” 

Ben turned to Butcher with a glare. They were not even going to entertain the idea that She’d flipped. Not when she was such a fucking genius. “She just fixed a lot of your fucking problems for you. Like she always fucking does.”

The French Prick frowned. “I do not see how this helps us-“ 

“The best lie is made of the truth,” MM watched Ben carefully, his brain clearly moving a lot goddamn faster than the rest of them. “And she just said all the right things, in the wrong way.” 

“In a way that saves your fucking asses,” Ben snapped, and Butcher scoffed. 

“If anything She just fuckin damned us-“ 

“Butcher,” MM shook his head. “He’s right. She just did us a huge favor. Nobody already aligned with Starlight will believe the whole kidnapped narrative. We can flip this easy to Soldier Boy aligned with Starlight and to protect the public, and she was just as dangerous as Homelander. We didn’t kidnap her, she was detained for crimes. Or we can let people start to look further into who she actually is. The footage of her and Soldier Boy fighting Homelander will resurface, same with Firecracker, and we’ll just tell the fucking truth. The ball is in our court now. The CIA can distance themselves, or not. That’s up to Grace. And he,” MM pointed to Ben. “Can go in public. He’s not a terrorist anymore.” 

Butcher nodded, and as he and MM continued to talk about responses and how to play this, Ben could only fucking see Her.

Still Her. Playing it like Her. Planning something, fighting in Her own insane, fucking sacrificial way. With carefully chosen words and broken metaphors She’d never normally use that told Ben it was Her. 

He couldn’t go get Her. He was certain now, because the crack in her voice had been real when she’d said he’d always save me. Ben would always fucking save Her, and she was telling him not to. 

She was telling him She wasn’t broken. That they’d still burn together. 

That She’d see him soon.

——————

It was going to take two months, three days, fourteen hours, eleven minutes, and forty-two seconds for—if everything worked—you to go home. Back to Ben. 

But everything had to work. 

The first week, they lock you up. You only see Homelander and Sage, asking you questions you couldn’t answer because they won’t take the gag off of your mouth. 

Then Sage sits down across from you, leaning forward and speaking like you were a child. 

“I am going to give you one opportunity for this, understood?” 

You glare at her, and she sighs. 

“I am going to proceed as if you confirmed. As you know, physical threats and acts of torture are not viable for long-term cooperation. So instead I’m offering an incentive. If you work with us, cooperate fully, then we refrain from actively targeting Butcher and his associates. We can kick the can down the road, make threats, but never actively pursue action.” 

You look up at Homelander behind her, eyes narrowing, and he waves you off. 

“Please, I can fucking control myself enough to not kill them, even if they deserve it for poisoning you against me.” Homelander steps forward until he’s leering over your body. “Until you say you’re ready, I won’t kill any of them. We’ll work on us. I’ll even, look I’ll pinky promise.” 

You give him a flat look. Your hands are still wrapped and cuffed and you can’t pinky promise, even if you trusted him. Which you didn’t. 

“We’re serious,” Sage says your name, and your attention returns to her. “Until you’ve come to terms with their treatment of you, we will ensure they remain physically unharmed.” 

Sage was lying. Not about the promise, about the come to terms with their treatment part. She knows what Homelander had done. She knows you had chosen to leave. She knows about you and Ben, and even if she doesn’t fully get that you loved him she knows you’d never turn on him. Ever be ready to kill him. 

She’s feeding Homelander’s delusions. She has a plan, one that even Homelander wasn’t privy to. But you need the gloves off. Your plan needed to be set in motion. 

So you nod. 

From there, time is long. You don’t wander through the tower, or see anyone Homelander doesn’t want you to see. They’d taken off the gag and handcuffs, but you’re still locked in Homelander’s room. You’d never actually been in Homeland’s room at Vought tower before this, because he’d kept you secret. In the white room, or the lad. You’d known he had one, just from knowing generally about the Seven from the news and media and billboards everywhere, but you’d never imagined it being real. As far as you’d been concerned, he didn’t sleep. He was mechanical, monstrous, and something as human as sleep wasn’t something he was capable of. 

But he did. Homelander always, for at least an hour a night, would sleep. In the bed you were forced to use as well. He hasn’t touched you. By some miracle, Homelander hasn’t touched you. He makes you sleep in his bed and smile at him and say all the right things, but he hasn't touched you. Not like that. 

Because he’s afraid. Of you. It’s the only thing that helps you hold down your vomit, allows your fire to stay under your skin. The knowledge that Homelander is afraid of you. It’s so easy to miss, how he won’t look away from you for more than two minutes at a time. How when you move he watches you far too closely. He won’t touch you with bare skin unless he has to for the camera, and even then it’s brief flashes of something like fear. The room is kept cold, and you know it’s meant to quell your fire. It doesn’t—and you still think Sage knows that—but Homelander seems to be unwilling to take you anywhere warm. TV sets are cold, ice is offered in large cups at outdoor events, and when you’re eventually allowed out of the room, the tower is almost numbingly air-conditioned. 

It took another two weeks for them to let you leave the room. Two weeks to prove that you would behave, to make Homelander think you were coming around. Time spent being choked by artificial coconut, receiving PR training, and making small, careful moves. Carefully calculated smiles at Homelander off of the camera, small, fake flinches into his hand when someone else would come near you. 

Play the part. Play the role you’d been given and fall apart alone. Let Homelander show you off wherever he could and ask all the right questions about his life and fame. 

“Are all these people here for you?” You ask him in a too soft voice. You know they were all here for him—they were literally holding Homelander is America’s True Hero signs—but the question makes him laugh like you were a silly, stupid child, and that’s what you’d been aiming for. 

“They’re here for us,” He says your name, grinning around at the crowd, and waving at the gathered people like he was the Queen of England. 

Fucking pussy might think he is the Queen of England. Fucking bitches and moans like it. 

That made it easier. Ben’s voice would mutter in your ears, and make this all easier. Easier to look around in awe, give Homelander one of your rare smiles, and get through this. 

Then—when Homelander locks you back in his room and leaves to do who knows what—you fall over the toilet and hurl your guts of disgustingly fancy food, sobbing until it was all out. Covering your mouth with a hand so you wouldn’t scream, swallowing and drowning in your own tears. A small period, every day, where you just broke. Where you let yourself mourn and hate this and miss Ben. Wish you were anywhere but here, wish you could just go home. You just want to go home. 

But you always pick yourself up, and amble through the apartment until Homelander returns. 

He has food delivered to you. It’s pretty much whatever he wants—you think he’s not actually sure what food you like and can’t really be fucked to find out—and he’ll make you eat it with him, making sure you eat it, before informing you he’s going to bed. 

Which means you’re going to bed. 

You don’t sleep. You can’t sleep. Not when Homelander is on the other side of the mattress and everything is so cold. He hasn’t touched you, and that gets you through the night, but you’re not stupid. You know better than to try and predict what Homelander will or won’t do. To trust him to follow a pattern. Which means you lie awake at night, eyes closed and breathing controlled so Homelander thinks you’re sleeping, and try to drag your fire further up into your body. 

The cold isn’t harming it. But it keeps going numb. All your fear and pain and hatred and anger keeps washing over you, feeling like it’s going to burst out of your body, and the fire grows dormant again. And when Homelander’s too close, when there are too many cameras, when you have to smile and laugh and pretend you’re not dying, the fire falls further away. 

Ben would say you have performance issues. You’d try to punch him, tell him if anyone has performance issues it’s going to be the hundred-year-old man, and he’d laugh and remind you that you know he doesn’t have performance issues, and you miss him. You miss him so much. Because if you looked at him and said I miss you, and I love you, and I’m so sorry I should’ve just come home because I miss you and love you and you were right we should’ve just left and I’m so, so sorry, he’d just hold you. He’d pull you into his big, warm, safe body and let you scream until your voice was hoarse. 

I was right. His voice still rumbled through you, even when he wasn’t there. Even when he was just a piece of you that was always dedicated to missing him. To loving him, all the time. I was absolutely fucking right, but if you keep trying to apologize, Sunshine, I’ll lose my damn mind. So shut up. 

And you miss him more, as you became more certain you can’t let him get hurt. That your two jobs right now are to do this right, and do this careful, and never let them hurt Ben. Play your role and never let them hurt Ben. 

When you were given a choice, a say in your outfit or hair or makeup, you always chose green. It made everything in your guts and lungs painful, because it always moved your brain from I have a plan to Ben. Ben, I love you, but you have to. You have to keep telling him you were fine, you have to tell him you hadn’t broken, without actually saying it. The only sign he’s seen you and understands was that he still hadn’t appeared in Vought’s lobby, demanding they return you to him with roars of your name and a lot of violence. 

But you worry. You worry Ben will notice the days when you were just exhausted, when the cracks are starting to show because everything in you hurts. When a strange sort of beast that has started to wake in your blood wants to make everything hurt the way you are. Every time that happens—every time Homelander drags you somewhere and you have to smile and swallow down strangled noises and a vile taste when Homelander’s hand finds your body—you worry that Ben will come. You want him to come, you want more than anything in the world for him to just grab you and take you far away, but he can’t. Because this doesn’t work like that. 

You resort to allowing him to follow you. For your love of him to walk a pace behind you, a phantom nobody can see but you. 

In the first three weeks, locked in Homelander’s room and in front of cameras, it’s just you and that phantom. Nothing in Homelander’s apartment is Ben, he’d call the whole thing fucking pathetic—over-expensive bullshit, and that coffee table is too fucking ugly to even do coke off of—but he’s still there. Everywhere around you, but still just a figment of your love. In the air and thumping with your heart, and you love him. 

But not real. 

They keep asking you questions about your relationship with Homelander—you’re still not allowed to actually speak and Sage doesn’t think that’s sustainable—so they sit you down and run over the backstory. 

“So, the story is you’re Homelander’s sweetheart,” a skinny man wearing plaid—you can’t remember his name, you’re pretty sure it starts with an S—is pitching you a life story, like you’re going to make it into an Oscar-bait coming-of-age story. “Childhood best friends to lovers, star-crossed, soulmates, made for each other.” 

“But fate has other plans. Thing’s weren’t going to be so easy.” The shorter, bald one jumps in over… Sam. Sean. Steve. 

It doesn’t fucking matter. Call that one Bald Pussy and that one Skinny McBrown-Nose. 

You’ve been introduced to about a hundred different Vought employees’ dedicated to selling Homelander and Sage’s lie over the span of today alone. Bald Pussy and Skinny McBrown-Nose it is. 

“You’re torn apart at every turn. He’s in the Seven, but you don’t want the fame.” 

Bald Pussy makes a sad face, picking up again from Skinny McBrown-Nose. “You just want him.” 

“You’re an independent woman, you want a career.” 

“But he wants a family.” 

“Fights, compromises, making up because whatever happens-“ 

“You’ll always find each other.” 

They’re still bouncing off of each other, and your blood is trying to burst out of your body. You feel like something is killing you, ripping apart your head and heart and tongue and you miss Ben- 

You think they fuck each other while they rehearse this bullshit? 

The phantom is behind you. Whispering in your ear with a low, gravely, voice that—just within itself—pulls you down and holds you together. 

I’d hope this doesn’t require rehearsing. They’re just saying words people vaguely associate with love. Soulmates and made for each other mean essentially the exact same thing. 

I can’t believe this is what Vought has fucking come to. Paying a bunch of pussies to talk. Goddamn anyone can just say words about love. 

Really. 

Are you doubting me? I can be fucking romantic. 

Uh huh. 

Remember when I made you hot chocolate with all those weird pink marshmallows? 

I had to walk you through that, and you got mad the marshmallows weren’t, and I quote, “proper fucking marshmallow color. They perfected marshmallows damn decades ago, fucking idiot pussies didn’t need to make them pink and add fucking candy canes.” 

Shut the fuck up, I still did it. I’m a goddamn gentleman. 

You are not a gentleman, Benjamin. 

I fucking am, and I’m romantic. I can say shit about romance like those pussies, fucking watch me. Love, chocolate, flowers, orgasms- 

You just said orgasms. That’s not romantic. 

I can make it fucking romantic. And you fucking love the orgasms I give you. You love me. 

I do. The pain is becoming softer, something that’s sitting where it shouldn’t be. A part of you that knows all of this is just plain fucking wrong, to be here—be anywhere—without Ben. I love you more than I’ll ever be able to say. 

You must really fucking love me. All you ever do is talk. 

Sage snaps your name. “You aren’t listening.” 

Show time. 

Knock them fucking dead, Sunshine. 

Shut up and let me focus. 

“Is it,” You give Homelander the most pathetic, nervous look you’re capable of. “Is it important for me to listen to them? I’m really tired, and I have a lot of downtime. You could give me a file, I promise I’d read it.” 

“It is important,” Sage watches you carefully. “You need to understand-“ 

“I understand,” you sigh, and let a little bit of your genuine exhaustion show. “I’ll say whatever I need to for this to work for you. I’m just tired, I want to go home-“ 

That does it. You called it home, and Homelander turns to glare at Skinny McBrown-Nose and Bald Pussy. “You two have written this down.” 

Skinny McBrown-Nose stutters out a response, “Uh, Seth, you said you were going to-“ 

“I told you I couldn’t, Evan, because I had that thing-“ 

“You mean your fucking dick replacement surgery?” Homelander sneers, and Seth—Bald Pussy had the S name, not Skinny McBrown-Nose—flushes and stares at the floor. “I do not care who writes it down, as long as you give it to her tomorrow.” Homelander’s sharp words make them both nod nervously, and he offers you a hand. 

You take it, slow, tentative, and deliberate, and trying not to jerk it back and scream when cold leather wraps around your hands. This is working. Everything is where it needs to be right now. Not where it wants to be, not where it should be, but where it needs to be. You can scream when it’s safe to do so, when you can muffle the sound into Ben’s skin. 

After that, Homelander tells Sage that you won’t be doing PR training anymore. You don’t hear the conversation—or, more likely, argument—but when Sage tells you she’s watching you through narrow eyes with a sour expression. She passes you a large stack of papers, tells you to memorize them fast. 

That afternoon is spent flipping through the pages, trying to focus on the words and not rip them to shreds. Most of it is information you already know, just from the PR campaign Vought’s been pushing since January. Homelander’s secret lover. Two supes from the same small town, one stronger than any before and one who's very pretty. He loves her, because she’s sweet. She loves him, because who wouldn’t? 

You have to take a five minute break after that. Five minutes of heavy breathing, thinking about happy things before you can keep reading. 

As a supe, you have fire, but it’s not well controlled, and this you can only heal herself. You’re no longer immortal. Your name, Anomaly—there’s a footnote that says you’re dropping the the part of the Anomaly, to match Homelander—is because you have absolutely no control of your powers when you use them, which is why you don’t. You finished high school and never went to college, but you got experience in marketing from following Homelander around. Your parents were married for almost 30 years before a truly tragic car accident killed them both. You had them cremated, no gravestones or other possible evidence, and decided you wanted to start a family with Homelander. Then Soldier Boy kidnapped you, and your plans were put on hold. 

Another five minutes. Happy things. 

You—this you that’s been manufactured and designed to wear your face and not be you—aren’t a real person, with interests or hobbies or anything important to say about you except you love Homelander. The personality section calls you sweet and gentle, nice and loving. You enjoy cooking, clothing, and books. That’s it. Cooking, clothing, and books. You’re an independent woman, but you love Homelander, and you gave up everything because you love Homelander and he asked you to, and you’re smart but not smarter than he is, and you’re also a girly girl but you’re still smart, but still not too smart, not enough to be alienating or off-putting or annoying, and you’re not that funny but you’re really pretty, and you love cooking and clothing and books and Homelander- 

Music. City Lights. Ben. 

Music. Ben. City Lights.

Ben. Music. City Lights. 

Ben. 

Sitting with him. Eating with him. Laughing with him. Talking with him. At him. To him. Real and safe. 

Music. City Lights. Pine trees and strawberries and malt vanilla. Movies and TV shows and music. The color green and city lights and Ben. 

The tears fall, slow and silent, and your hand is itching to your throat. You still can’t breathe. This is lonely and you’re tired and you miss Ben. You’re not breaking. You won’t break. But you’re cracking. You can’t think outside of the cold, outside of your blood trying to spill into everyone else. 

You're trapped. Homelander will come back and he might not touch you but you can’t be sure, you have to get on stage and pretend to be this half-person in the morning, and you don’t love Homelander, you love Ben. And he isn’t coming to save you, because you’ve been making sure he doesn’t, but you miss him. You want to go home. Not here, never here. This isn’t home, this is an execution room. Cold and dangerous and everything is wrong. Home is warm and safe and everything is yours. None of this is yours. None of this is you. You can’t break, you’re not allowed to break. You can’t go home if you break, but you can’t go home now, and all of this hurts. It just hurts, and you want to go home, and all of this hurt is trying to burst out of you and it’s so cold- 

Fucking breathe. The phantom hums your name around your head, into your body. Breathe. 

You can’t. You can’t breathe. You don’t know why, but this is it. This is the thing that’s going to make you collapse and not get back up. You’re going to fail because of something so pointless, that doesn’t even matter- 

It fucking matters, Sunshine. All of this shit isn’t you. You’re a fucking pain, but you’re you. Not this weak fucking hussy bitch. Breathe.

Breathe. You’re you. You’re cold and alone but you’re you. 

When you get home, because you will fucking get home. Don’t think for a goddamn second I’m going to leave you here, you will come the fuck home. And when you do, you can cry all you damn want. 

You’ll break when you're home. You’ll go home soon, and you’ll break when you’re home. Ben was going to be angry, so fucking angry you were doing this to yourself. But he’d stay. He’d always stay. 

You memorize the script, memorize the role, and play it well. Smiling. Don’t break. Say the lines they’ve given you and don’t break and spend a half hour of the Deep’s 90 minute movie throwing up in a bathroom stall. Alone. 

It takes another week for them to let you roam the floor. You’re not allowed off of 99, or into actual meetings, but they unlock the doors and you’re officially introduced to the Seven. Sage knows you, and won’t stop watching you with narrow eyes. The Deep nods at you, and tells Homelander you’re smoking hot. Noir II nods in agreement, and then starts to talk before the Deep whacks him upside the head. Ashley—who is apparently a part of this—pretends she doesn’t know you, but when your hands shake you can feel her anxiety. A-Train just gives you a nod and a nice to meet you. 

You have your first real conversation with him a day later, when he speeds into Homelander’s apartment in the middle of the day. 

“We need to fucking talk.” 

You yelp, jumping back slightly. “Please, I’m not-“ 

“Cut the bullshit. You’re not Homelander’s girlfriend, no matter what they’ve been telling us to say.” 

You watch him carefully, not fully dropping the mask. “It’s, I don’t know. I’m confused, I’m not sure-“ 

“I said cut the bullshit.” A-Train snaps. “They don’t put cameras in Homelander’s room, he’s not going to find out about this. You can drop the act.” 

You pause. He might be lying. He could be baiting you out, but he doesn’t seem like the type. If he didn’t trust you, he’d probably just keep yelling until you confirmed his suspicions. And, based on the way he keeps looking at the door, pacing back and forth, A-Train’s not supposed to be here. Talking to you. 

“Fine.” Your face falls from nervous anxiety in exhaustion. Every fiber of your features is barely held together over the exhaustion. “What.” 

“What are they planning. Your team.” 

You shrug. “I don’t know. I’ve been preoccupied. You’re the one who’s allowed to leave.” 

“They’ve locked us in since you and Soldier Boy’s little show outside. Sage is cracking down on our downtime, she’s still convinced there’s a leak.” 

“There is a leak.” You hold A-Train’s glare. “And Ben and I’s little show got Ryan Butcher out.” 

A-Train blinks at you. “Ben?” 

“Soldier Boy,” you mutter. “I call him Ben. He’s my…” You trail off. He’s not your boyfriend. Or, technically, lover. But you do love him. He’s everything, and you love him. “Friend.” 

“Friend?” He frowns at you. “Back at the diner-“ 

“It’s complicated.” 

A-Train halts in front of you. “Whatever. I don’t care about your complicated relationship with Soldier Boy. I need to know what Starlight and Hughie and MM and the rest of them are planning.”

“And I told you, I don’t know.” 

“Guess.”

“I can’t,” you hiss. “They might be planning to kill Homelander. They might be planning to kill Sage. Maybe just focus on Vought. I’m not exactly able to talk to them, so I don’t know.” 

“What about you?” A-Train glares at you, hands on his hips. “Are they not going to try and come get you?” 

“No. They’re not.” 

“I thought those assholes were all about teamwork and morality-“ 

“Morality,” your voice is softer than you want it to be. “Is relative. In this scenario, it would be immoral to focus on one person in exchange for an opportunity to kill Homelander.” 

A-Train gives you a look of disbelief. “You’re not being serious.” 

“I am not the priority.” Your nails are digging into your skin, and something in your throat has become like a stone, but you keep going. You have to keep going. “I am doing what I need to do. They are doing what they need to do. Right now, that’s what this is about.” 

“What, you think being some kind of self-sacrificing hero is going to help anyone.” A-Train scoffs. “Grow up. This is the real world, the big leagues. You’re not going to get a parade just because you did the stupid, selfless thing.” 

“I don’t want a parade.” I want to go home. “And I am well aware of the real world. The real world is expensive and tiring and lonely. I have nothing, I’m exhausted, and I’m completely fucking alone. This is hell.” The anger is trying to leave your body through your throat. “I’m not making the hard choice for glory. I’m making it for the real world.” 

A-Train glares at you for another long second, and then he’s gone in a whoosh. 

Three days pass. Three days of being alone and missing Ben and trying not to break. You’re in front of a camera almost all the time now. They won’t stop putting you in the ugliest dresses known to man, but you make sure they’re green. You make sure to look into the camera and give Ben signs. Something else that tells him you’re okay, that keeps him from trying to save you. That you miss him, but you’re fine. You’ll see him once this is over. Once all the pieces fall into place, once it’s safe and will be simple. 

You hope they’re trying to kill Homelander. Whenever you think about it you become a little lightheaded, because what if they're not. What if they’re trying to kill Sage, or the Deep, or Noir II. What if they just haven’t come for you because they’ve spent the past month planning to get you. A lot of this relies on them finding a plan to kill Homelander. Without you they’re not strong enough to keep him anywhere, and Ben can’t just ask him to stay still and take the shot. They’re going to need to keep him down, keep him still or trapped. They need to be looking for something, because all of this will be pointless if they aren’t. 

When A-Train finds you again—in another marble bathroom, and another awful gown, throwing up into the toilet—you swallow down what’s left and speak before he has the chance. 

“I still don’t know what they’re planning. But you need to find out.” 

You’re met with a blank stare for only a second as A-Train takes you in. Still knelt before the toilet bowl, tears falling, cracks appearing at the surface. “Holy shit, what are you-“ 

“I’m vomiting. You need to go to MM and tell me what they’re planning.” 

He shakes his head. “I told you, I can’t risk it. They’re watching our every fucking move, they even know I’m in this bathroom.” He freezes, staring at you. “Shit, they know you’re in this bathroom-“ 

“No, they don’t.” Your words are fast, sharp, said just before A-Train takes off. “They couldn’t put the tracker in my body. It kept burning and short-circuiting. They don’t know we’re talking.” 

A-Train nods curtly. “Fine. But I still can’t fucking risk taking a trip to talk to MM right now.” 

“You need to.” 

“I can’t, I have a family that they’ll hurt-“ 

“I’ve got a family that they’ll hurt,” you snap, standing on shaking legs. “We’ve all got families that they’ll hurt. People we care about that we have to keep safe. I’m not asking you to kill Homelander yourself, I’m asking you to find out what my team is planning.” 

“Why the hell do you need to know?” A-Train rolls his eyes. “You can’t help them, and you’re obviously having some sort of mental break that’s stopping your powers-“ 

“I am not having a mental break,” you take a rough step forward. “I’ve just been fucking kidnapped, again, so I’m crying. And I need to know so I can adjust.” 

“Adjust?” 

You laugh. It’s not a real laugh, it’s cold and tired and angry, but it feels good. You’re angry, and it’s not trying to explode from you because you can show it. “I’m working on something. I need to know what they’re planning so I can change my plans to match.” 

A-Train frowns at you. “Your plans… You mean you’re-“ 

“Not just sitting on my ass? Actually trying to help? Yeah, I am. I may not be a hero,” You jab a finger into his chest, and he flinches. “But at least I’m not a fucking pussy.” 

He’s gone again. It’s getting really annoying. But you don’t let yourself dwell on whether A-Train will help you or not. Because Homelander finds you the next day, and your timeline has to move up. 

“You’re going on TV again. Tomorrow.” 

“Okay,” your voice is soft, and something foul and molding is rooting in your gut. “Where are we going-“ 

“It’s just you.” 

You blink at him with a parted mouth, and most of the fear in your voice is real. “Just, just me?” 

“Well, obviously I’ll be going with you.” He waves you off with a hand, rubbing his forehead. “But just you on the TV. Sage wrote you a script, you’ll read it during the meeting.”

“Meeting?” 

“We’re making you a supe outfit. You fucking need it. You’re a hero, you’re my partner, putting you normal fucking human clothes give the public the wrong idea.” 

You wait for him to continue. You know better than to try and interrupt, or ask questions. 

“You’re not human. They can’t think just anyone can have what we have. If people keep seeing you dresses like a fucking actress they’ll think you’re just like them. That we’re just like them.” 

The silence is long enough for you to nod. “Okay.” 

Homelander’s look of surprise at your compliance lasts only a second before turning into satisfaction. “Good.” 

You’re going on TV, alone. You have a chance to knock the first domino down. You sit through the meeting and all the pitches and don’t speak or scream or vomit. Your costume is red, because Vought employs geniuses who understand that red and fire are often associated with each other. It’s revealing, there’s a corset and lace and high leather boots that hurt your feet. The script is bland, blatant propaganda, but it doesn’t matter. You won’t really need to memorize it anyway. 

Homelander’s gone again that night, and you’re not sure this will work, but you give it a shot. 

“A-Train?” 

Silence. He’s not an on-call angel, you’re not sure why you thought he’d respond- 

“What.” 

You turn to find him glaring at you. “I need your help.” 

“Why.”

“I can’t tell you.” 

A-Train shrugs. “Then I’m not helping you. Nice talk.” 

“Wait!” He’s not gone, just glowering at you, so you sigh and push the words out of your mouth.

“I’m going on TV tomorrow. Alone.” 

“Good for you.” 

“A-Train, I’m going on TV. Without Homelander. To give an interview.” 

“I don’t give a shit-“ 

“I’m going to do something.” You snap. “I need you to pull Homelander away, so I can do something.” 

He narrows his eyes at you. “Do what.” 

“I can’t tell you. But it’s important.” 

“Is it,” he pauses, looking around the empty apartment like Homelander might jump out and laser him. You understand the instinct. “Part of your plan? For them?” 

“Yes.” 

“To help them.” 

“Hopefully.” 

“Huh.” A-Train crosses his arms. “Why should I help you.” 

You scoff. You don’t have time for this. “Because if you don’t, then we’re all fucked.” 

“I’m already fucked. I put my skin on the line for your team, and got put in lockdown. And they still haven’t done shit-“ 

“They’re working on it.” They have to be. “I’d know more if you would just do what I asked.”

“I told you I can’t-”

“And I told you need to, if you want to actually do something. But I’m not asking for that right now.”  

He frowns at you. “What are you asking, exactly?”

“To pull Homelander away.” You repeat, sighing. “Just distract him from the studio.”

“Why.”

You roll your eyes. “I’m still not going to tell you. All I can say is it will help them if I do it. But I have to do it.”

A-Train is silent. Examining you before speaking slowly. “You think they’re going to win.” 

You don’t hesitate. “Yes.” 

“Why.” 

“Because, there’s not another option.” You swallow. “Please. All you have to do is make sure that Homelander leaves the studio. That he’s gone and busy.” 

“And this,” he finally takes off that stupid visor, meeting your eyes. “This will help those idiots? Really help them?” 

“It will.” You make your voice firm. It will help. It has to. “But I can’t do it with Homelander there.” 

“You’re really not going to tell me what exactly you’re going to do?” 

“Nope. It gives you plausible deniability.” 

“Not if I’m the one who calls Homelander away, Sage already doesn’t trust me-“ 

“So make the Deep do it. Or Noir, or literally anyone else that deserves it.” You frown into the air. “I’d go with The Deep, though. He’s too fucking stupid for them to think he planned anything.” 

A-Train takes a long breath, still glaring at you. “Fine. But if this doesn’t work-“ 

“It will.” 

“For both our fucking sakes,” he puts the visors back on, shaking his head. “It better.” 

It does. By some miracle, you get every single one of the words you’d been rehearsing for weeks out on live TV, and Homelander—pulled away for a PR crisis in which the Deep publicly admitted to fucking another octopus—doesn’t stop you. The cameras go off, the show goes to commercial, and you blink into the darkness of the studio. You have to trust they’ll understand what you said. Why you said it. That Ben or Butcher or Annie or someone will know what to do with it. That they’ll take your opening and use it, that Ben will be able to help them. 

One step down. One step closer to going home. 

You’d expected Homelander and Sage to be mad. You hadn’t slept last night, knowing that whether or not this worked you were going to have to think fast, act quick, and hope you’d done enough to make Homelander think you were just confused. Just a nervous, confused girl coming around to understand what he’d done for her, what his enemies had done to her. All you had to do was have convinced Homelander. When it came down to it, Sage’s opinion of you wouldn’t matter, not if you’d really, truly convinced Homelander. 

At first, you thought you had. He drops into the silent studio, everyone’s hushed and nervous whispers falling dead as Homelander marches up to you and yanks you up. Your mask is still on, and some of the tears are real. A small allowance of grief, for yourself. For saying everything that was true, for having to say he would always save you and know who you were speaking about. But not be able to scream Ben. Ben, I love you, into the camera and just go home. You know Ben will understand what you were telling him. He’ll have heard your words, the one explicitly for him, and understand. 

You weren’t broken. You were breaking but not broken. He hadn’t been able to burn with you, but he hadn’t failed you. Ben could never fail you. You’d see him soon. The words you've been staring into cameras since you’d been able to. You love him, and you’ll see him soon. 

He won’t understand that you love him, because you’ve only ever thought that part. You’ve stared into countless lenses and thought Ben, I love you and I’ll see you soon while only letting your face say I’ll see you soon. 

When Homelander drops you back into his apartment, that’s what will get you through whatever comes. One step closer. You’ll go home soon. 

You put on your most meek face and soft voice, and start apologizing before Homelander can even say your name. 

“I’m, I’m so sorry, I was just thinking about what they did and I couldn’t stop,” you shake your head and fall backwards onto the couch. “I didn’t mean to, please don’t hate me, I’m so sorry, please-“ 

It’s not Homelander that cuts you off—he looks annoyed but not angry—but Sage, stomping into the apartment.

“What did you just try to fucking pull?” She sneers, stopping above where you’ve curled into yourself. “You think you’re smart? That was insurmountably idiotic, I thought you’d know better than to try and go off script so blatantly.” 

“I didn’t mean to, I’m sorry,” you double down. You make yourself look pathetic and scared, try to push yourself into the cushions. “I swear, I just couldn’t stop, I keep thinking about what they did-“ 

Homelander grins, clapping his hands together. “Finally, some fucking progress.” 

“This isn’t progress, you idiot,” Sage snaps. “She’s tricking you.” 

“Look at her, she’s sobbing,” Homelander gestures to you, and it takes all your effort not to flinch. “So she messed up, this is still good. She’s coming around, and now people will know about what a bitch Starlight-“ 

“This is not good. Soldier Boy is a threat now. A real threat to your image, a threat to her,” Sage points at you, and something twists in your upper gut. “Staying where we want her. We both know that not a word of what she said was true-“ 

“I’m sorry-“ 

Homelander silences you with a raised hand. “Don’t apologize to her, she doesn’t know what the fuck she’s talking about. We can deal with Soldier Boy, and he’s got nothing to do with her.” 

“Really,” Sage’s voice is dry and bored. “You’re sure about that.” 

“Of course I am, he’s Butcher’s fucking lapdog right now. They haven’t come to get her back, he’s not going to do it. They don’t care about her, and she’s finally getting that-“ 

Sage says your name, and your blood runs cold. “Would you like to tell him, or should I?” 

It’s all you can do to stutter and shake your head. “I, I don’t know what you’re-“ 

She gives you an annoyed look. “Fine. But I expected better from you.” She turns back to Homelander, and all your fire is gone. Replaced by something feral, that’s trying to make everything else just as afraid and dreadful as it feels. “She and Soldier Boy are fucking.” 

Homelander scoffs. “Please, don’t be fucking insane-“ 

“They are,” Sage’s gaze snaps to you. Looking you up and down. “Or at least she wants to fuck him. But he’s the only real threat to you right now, because he’s probably going to try and get her back.” 

“I, I’m not, I don’t understand-“ 

“Yes, you do. You can’t be trusted right now, not while you’re still Soldier Boy’s pet.” Sage shrugs. “I personally don’t think you’ll be able to pull off that leash, but we’ll see. Now,” she looks back at Homelander, whose face is blank, jaw ticking. “I have to go deal with one of your other mistakes. Find me when you decide what to do with her.” 

Sage leaves, something smug flashing in her eyes. She’d been waiting. This is what she’d been waiting for. Your move, so she could retaliate. 

And now Homelander is speaking your name, slow and cold. “Did you fuck Soldier Boy.” You open your mouth, and he raises a finger, grabbing your jaw and forcing your eyes onto his. “And don’t you dare fucking lie to me again.” 

You didn’t. You never actually fucked Ben. But you don’t think Homelander is going to care about specifics. “Yes.” 

“On purpose.” 

“Yes.” You can’t breathe. All your words are forced out of your body, and the feral thing inside of you is everywhere in your body. Trying to get out. 

“Do you still believe that I hurt you.” 

You’re going to scream, but his grip becomes tighter. “Yes.” 

His eyes flash red. “After all I’ve fucking done for you? You’d turn around and fuck my father?” 

“I didn’t-“ 

“No more fucking lies!” Your jaw might break. “I turn you into a supe, a god, and this is how you repay me?”

“Please-“ 

“I love you,” he pulls you up off the couch, and your hands fly instinctively to grab at his arm. “I fucking love you. I made you. Do you think anyone would want you like this? Weak? A fucking weak, ungrateful, lying bitch?” 

“No-“ 

“Exactly,” Homelander hisses, pulling your face closer. “Nobody else. You’re strong, I made you strong, but don’t forget your place. Mine. You belong to me, just like everything else. You don’t love Soldier Boy, you love me.” 

“I don’t-“ 

“I chose you because you’re nice.” Homelander sneers. “I chose you because you’re sweet. You were so pretty and nice, singing on that sage, and I fell in love with you right there. You’re just pretty, nice, and sweet. I made you a supe because I was tired of women who thought that their words made them worthy of me. Don’t think your fire, that you can’t even control, makes you my equal. You’re more powerful than Soldier Boy, but you’re not more powerful than me. Don’t get caught in the taste of someone weaker, and think that’s what you need.” 

You speak on instinct, the words falling from you before you can stop them. “Ben’s not weak.” 

“Ben?” Homelander face twists in hatred, and you think he’s going to kill you. Or try to, or just lock you up forever again. “Did you just call Soldier Boy Ben?” 

“I, I’m-“ 

“I thought you were getting better.” Homelander drops you back into the couch. “But you’re still too human. Too weak. Too easy for them to manipulate, make you think what those roaches want you to.” His eyes narrow. “We’re going to have to fix that.” 

You don’t hear the call he makes. You can’t hear anything over the blood, pounding in your ears. You want to go home. You should’ve just ran when you could, not taken a brief moment of Homelander’s fear and taken it as a reason to stay. You should’ve just run and gone home and now you can’t. Now you’re never going to go home. You’ll never see Ben again. Never be safe again. 

“Sir, you wanted to see me?” 

You don’t recognize that voice. You can barely focus on it, because the fear in your body hurts. It’s stabbing and snapping everything inside you, and you’re going to shatter into a million pieces. 

Homelander’s guiding someone in front of you. Noir II, the one that talks. The one Homelander didn’t kill.

“Stand right there. Don’t move or I’ll fucking laser your brains out.” He turns back to you. “Kill him.” 

You make a sound from your throat, and Noir II becomes rigid. 

“Uh, sir-“ 

“I said don’t move,” Homelander snaps, still looking at you. “You know who he is?” 

“Yes,” you breathe out. “He’s Black Noir.” 

“You know that he and Ben worked together? He was in on the Russia deal?” 

“I, uh, I’m just playing a role,” Noir II stutters. “I don’t know who Ben is-“ 

Homelander whips around, eyes glowing. “Don’t move.” 

You can hear Noir II’s swallow. “Yes, sir.” 

Homelander says your name. “He wanted to kill Noir for that. Like he’s going to kill you, for betraying him. For staying with me.” 

You can’t breathe again. Ben knows you didn’t betray him, you’d never betray him. He’d never hurt you, you trust him with your whole life to understand that you weren’t still here because you wanted to be. You’d always chose Ben, you love him. 

“So you’re going to kill Noir here,” Homelander steps aside. “And stop these pathetic delusions that Soldier Boy gives a fucking shit about you.” 

“I can’t,” you whisper. “Please, Homelander-“ 

“Yes, you can. Use your fucking fire or something. Kill him now.” 

You shake your head. “I can’t-“ 

“Christ, stop whining and just do it.” Homelander pulls you up again, dragging you across the room. Right in front of Noir. “The sooner you do, the sooner we can all move on.” 

“Please-“ 

“Now.” 

You can’t move. Every single muscle and tendon and blood vessel wants to leave your body. Everything is freezing, trying to spread like mold around you and you can’t breathe. 

“If you don’t do it.” Homelander’s body is pressed against yours, shoving you forwards. “I will. But no matter what, you’re going to stop lying to me, stop trying to trick me, and understand what your role in this is. You’re not Maeve, or Stormfront, or Starlight. You’re not a hero or bitch who’s going to try and control me. I made you for me. Now kill him.” 

You just choke on the air, and Homelander grabs your jaw again. “You can even do that fucking singing. Just kill him.” 

He rips off Noir II’s mask, revealing a young man. He grabs your hand, pushes it onto Noir II’s face, and he’s afraid. You didn’t have to be touching Noir II to know he’s afraid. You can hear his heavy breaths, you can see the way he’s frozen, and you can’t. You can’t kill him, you won’t.

Noir II makes a sound that might be a plea, and your heart falls into your gut. 

“I-“ 

Red flashed through the room, and Noir drops to the ground. Body sliced in two. 

“You were taking too long,” Homelander moves in front of you, pulling off a glove that’s been splattered in blood. “I’ve got things to do. You’re still going to the Believe Expo next week, but you’re going to stop being a little girl and start telling the truth. Understand?” 

You nod, still staring at Noir’s body. 

Homelander sighs. “Don’t think I like being mad at you. But you need to stop trying to be something you’re not. You’re the first woman that hasn’t tried to fucking control me, and that’s one the reasons why I love you.” He turns your head to look at him. “I forgive you for Soldier Boy. You weren’t yourself. But never,” his hand moves lower, sitting against your throat. “Forget your place again.” 

You hate him. You hate him so fucking much, but every part of your body feels far away. The whole world is just pure hatred and fear and it’s everywhere.

Homelander’s face twitches, hand tightening on your neck—your fear feels bigger, it almost makes you collapse—and he pulls his hand back as if you’d burned him. You couldn’t have, because everything is just fear and hatred and making the fire numb, but Homelander is staring at you like he’s seen a demon or a ghost. Then he’s gone. Leaving you alone again, with only a dead body for company. 

You don’t have anywhere to go. You haven’t felt small like this in a while, this useless and pathetic. But you don’t have anywhere to hide, anywhere safe to just fall apart. So you sink to the floor, gripping your arms with nails and cold hands, and scream. For the first time in over a month, you just scream. 

You want to go home. You can’t do this anymore, you just want to go home. You’re crawling up the stairs, away from the body to the bathroom where you can lock the door and break. Alone. Homelander wasn’t afraid of you anymore, he knew you were weak, and this might be your last time alone. 

I’ll come get you. Ben’s voice is everywhere, but still not real. You just want it to be real. 

“You can’t,” you whisper into the air, because it just doesn’t matter anymore. You’d lost everything already, the world is a blur, and there’s no point in trying to keep your sanity. “They’re ready for you. They’ll put you back to sleep.” 

I don’t fucking care. 

“But I do.” 

Sunshine, I will come get you. Say the word and I’ll get you right fucking now. I’ll fucking destroy the tower and you’ll come home. Back to me. 

“You don’t love me, Ben.” It hurts to say, but it’s the truth. Ben cares about you, but he doesn’t love you. Not like you love him.  

Shut the fuck up. Don’t doubt for a fucking second that you’re everything to me. Homelander’s a fucking pussy, he doesn’t know what the hell he’s talking about.

“But you don’t love me.” Everything is cold. Everything hurts and Ben doesn’t love you and you’re never going to see him again. Never going to tell him that you love him. You’re shattering, breaking, falling into something monstrous that can’t be put back together. Nothing is good, you’re not safe, and you’re weak. You’re exactly what Homelander says you are, weak. You’re not smarter, or stronger, and you’re never going to feel anything but cold again. 

When Ben’s voice sounds through the air again, it’s louder. Almost like he’s right in your ear. You can almost feel him. You’d recognize him anywhere, in any form, and this feels like him. 

He says your name, there’s something warm and powerful in your chest. I’m waiting, because you told me to and I trust you. But it’s fucking killing me. Whatever you’re fucking doing, it better bring you back. I don’t give a shit about Butcher or Homelander or any of this but you. I’m playing nice because you’ll be home soon. But you better fucking come home. 

I will. You don’t say it aloud, because all of the world suddenly feels far away. The only thing that feels real is Ben’s voice. Deep and warm. 

Fucking swear it. 

Promise. 

Good. The voice is silent for a second. That’s never happened before. I miss you. 

I miss you too.

Something around you sparks and flashes. It reminds you of Ben’s amusement in your body, rough and bright.

Don’t try and correct me, Benjamin.

I wasn’t going to say shit.

Yes, you were. I meant to say ‘too’. Statements that begin with an I are better suited to end with too. 

Smartass. 

I hate you. 

No, you don’t. 

The voice doesn’t remind you that you love him. It always reminds you that you love him. Instead it just keeps going.

If you hated me, you wouldn’t be wearing green all the time.

It’s a signal, Pretty Boy. I wear green so you pay attention. 

I’m not a damn toddler, I don’t need you to flash a color in front of my eyes to pay attention. 

Sure.

Shut the fuck up.

I agreed with you. 

We both know you fucking didn’t.

Sure.

Brat.

Cunt.

Silence again. Then-

For the record, I’m always paying attention to you. You’re fucking impossible to ignore, even when you’re gone. It’s damn inconvenient, I’m starting to look like a goddamn mental patient. And I fucking miss you, more than I’ll ever be able to tell you. 

Something rages inside your chest, something that feels bigger than the whole world and more valuable than oxygen, and then the warmth is gone. But you’re not screaming anymore, and all that’s cold is the floor of the bathroom and the air around you. Your vision clears with your head, you can feel the fire. It’s weak, not nearly enough to tear through Vought and escape, but awake.

You’ll survive this. You’d get through this. You’ll adjust, adapt, and keep moving. You will not break. You trust Ben, and you’ll feed the fire until you can make Homelander afraid again. He needs to be afraid again, to understand that he won’t fix you to what he wants, make you into anything. And when your plan works—in two weeks, two days, twenty-two hours, fifty-six minutes, and seven seconds—you’ll go home, and Ben will hold you. And you’d be safe. Soon, you’d be safe.

End Note:  Big thanks to everyone who’s sticking through the rough so we can get to the happy. You’re all amazing <3

Thank you all for reading, and please leave if a comment if you are so inclined! Every single one is the highlight of my day, from your jokes to your thoughts and feedback!

If you like this story, reblog, share, or leave a comment! <3

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[cyberkitty1]

pt 2/2 of the crybaby reader x earth42 Miles Morales

MAJOR MAJOR spoilers!! read with caution.

i said tomorrow night but I worked my butt off to get it done today!!

Aaron makes his way to Miles and room not even bothering to knock, I mean why would he? He just watched his nephew make his own girlfriend who would do anything for him cry. He was beyond furious.

“So now we are just going around making people cry?” Miles smirks at him “man I am literally the prowler? all i make people do is cry and beg for their life” he says almost laughing.

Aaron sighs pinching the bridge of his nose.” you are not supposed to let your job interfere with your normal life, you know that. Now you’re chasing your girl, the girl your supposed to love away? are you serious?”

Miles looks at him annoyed “ why wouls you care all she ever does is cry, shes happy she cries, shes mad she cries, shes sad she cries, man even when shes bored she cries. its annoying” he says holding his face in his hands.

Aaron walks to the bed and sits next to him. He’s never been put in this situation so he doesn’t know what to say. “ you’re dad was a lot better doing this than i ever was.” Miles visibly stiffens, this was the first time he’s brought up his dad since his funeral.

“ Miles I know you have been through a lot, more then i ever will but that doesn’t give you a reason to act that way towards her, she only wants whats best for you and she loves you with everything shes got. I would kill for a person like that to be in my life. I know you reacted like this because you feel you don’t have anyone to talk to but i’m always here man you know this.”

He wrapped an arm around his shoulder.” So don’t be taken your anger out on your girl she just loves you ok?” Miles sighs realizing, he was way to harsh in you you shouldn’t have been ignoring you and now he feels like a fool.

“ Yea, ill talk to her tomorrow” Aaron smiles, “ good I don’t need the only person who can get you to open up gone, now do i?” he says laughing a bit.

* Next Morning *

You didnt get a wink of sleep that night you where thinking about all the things you could have done to upset him that much. You werent mad just confused, confused as to why he would react that way. Of course you will still love him but this still hurt.

You were lost in thought when you realize someone texted you, it was Miles? You wasted no time to open it.

miles. can you come over later today?

you. yea

miles. dress comfortable

you were nervous, was he breaking up with you? You had no idea what to expect with how you guys left everything yesterday there was many directions this could go.

Hours later ( im lazy )

You got ready and made your way over to his place. Knocking on the door he answered “hola cariño ven conmigo” he helped you in with a warm smile taking your hand. Shutting the door behind you he led you into his bedroom sitting you down on his bed. He stood looking at you kind of nervous? he started:

“Voy a decir esto en español para que todo salga bien. Te amo mucho y siento mucho haberte tratado de una manera que nunca te mereces. Lamento haberte hecho llorar y haberte hecho sentir que hiciste algo mal. Todo lo que haces es amarme y tratarme bien, pero yo te traté como si no me importara. Y por eso lo siento mucho y espero que lo encuentres en tu corazón para perdonarme.”

(I'm going to say this in Spanish so that everything goes well. I love you very much and I am so sorry that I treated you in a way that you never deserve. I'm sorry I made you cry and made you feel like you did something wrong. All you do is love me and treat me right, but I treated you like I didn't care. And for that I am very sorry and I hope that you find it in your heart to forgive me.)

You waited and listened to him through and through and when he was done you spoke. “ Miles I will forever love you, you know that. I know that you are going through something but why didn’t you tell me? why don’t you talk to me? why wont you let me in?” you said holding his hands.

“No quería que pensaras menos en mí, que me consideraras débil.” You look at him sympathetically “ Miles I would never, never ever think of you as weak ok? Whenever you need me I will be there with you, I love you miles so much.” and with that, you were crying.

(“I didn't want you to think less of me, to consider me weak.”)

“mi princesa por favor no llores odio cuando lloras” he said wiping your tears away “ I know and i’m sorry that i’m always crying about everything i know it annoys you” you say sniffling. He feeling you pulling at his heart strings, feeling the worse he has felt since his father’s passing.

("My princess please don't cry I hate when you cry"’)

“ahora me tienes a punto de llorar mami, te quiero mucho y me arrepiento de haberte dicho que te encontré una llorona. Nunca debí haberte dicho eso, eres mi todo, ¿lo sabías? Debería disculparme contigo, lamento haberte tratado de esa manera, ¿me perdonarías?” He said with tears in his eyes.

(“Now you have me about to cry mommy, I love you very much and I regret having told you that I found you a crybaby. I never should have told you that, you are my everything, you know that? I should apologize to you, I'm sorry I treated you that way, would you forgive me?")

You held his face looking into his eyes with so much adoration. “ Miles I will forever love you, I forgive you, I will forgive you ten times over.” You said resting your head on his. After a few minutes he wipes his tears saying “ I forgot I wanted you to watch a movie with me if you forgave me.” You smile at him giving him a kiss.

“ Thank you Miles,i appreciate it all.” he sighs “ Ma, stop saying stuff like that I need to be saying sorry to you” he says looking you in your eyes.

And with that he sits on his bed back against the headboard with you tucked into his side, eating snacks and watching your favorite movies.

( this or this )

He suddenly turns to you and says “te amo mas que la cantidad de estrellas en el cielo” he says looking into your eyes. You turn to him resting your hand ok his face, hearing your voice that sounds like honey.

("I love you more than the number of stars in the sky")

“yo tambien te amo mi principe”

( "I love you too my prince")

Part 3 of the earth 42 Miles spoiling you will be done as soon as I can 🙏🏾

A/n: overlook the fact that i spelt honey as hunny 😔 ( its changed now)

[honeygrahambitch]

Jimmy Price stormed into the lab and shut the door closed behind him, making both Brian and Beverly direct their attention to him.

He looked as if he had committed a crime and needed to make a confession.

"I'm going to share something with you but it can't leave this room."

Beverly lifted an eyebrow unimpressed by his theatrics and closed the magazine she was reading.

"Fine."

"You're the Chesapeake Ripper?" Brian asked more for his own amusement but his smile faded when Jimmy's scolding glare was directed towards him. "Alright, alright, go on."

"So you promise you won't tell."

"We pinky promise we won't tell." Brian emphasized.

"I went to grab my sandwich from the fridge. The one that my wife has packed for me. And, after I bit into it I realized it wasn't mine."

"Huh?"

"Not to speak poorly of my dear wife, but the sandwich I grabbed was so excellent that it couldn't have been made by her."

"Asshole." Beverly commented.

"Wait, whose sandwich did you get then?"

"Well, we can do some profiling work regarding that." Jimmy went on. "Caramelized duck. Blue cheese. Fig marmelade."

"You ate Will's sandwich." Beverly concluded instantly and grabbed her magazine.

"Wait, Will can cook like that?" Brian inquired confused.

"Idiot, Hannibal must have prepared it for Will." Jimmy explained as the dread returned to his facial expression. "Oh no...I ate Will's sandwich..."

"C'mon, you can tell Will you bit into it and realized it wasn't yours, he won't be mad about the fact that a bite is missing."

"The problem is...it was so good I couldn't stop."

Beverly closed her magazine again as she and Brian sighed.

"Listen, I will give Will my sandwich."

"Sounds like a fair trade, pal. A ham and cheese sandwich for a Michelin star one. You are lucky Will doesn't care about this kind of things."

Jimmy wanted to say something more but he stopped as Will entered the lab holding some papers, Hannibal right behind him.

Jimmy looked at his friends with the kind of look that says "What the fuck is HE doing here?"

Beverly and Brian had to make an inhumane effort not to laugh at the situation.

Jimmy felt the weight of his crime even harder now that Hannibal was in the room. The man had put all his love into that sandwich for Will and he had eaten it with no hesitation. And poor Will was probably starving.

"Jimmy? Did you-" Will started but Jimmy cut him off before he could finish.

"YES. Yes, it was me. I apologize, I just couldn't stop, it was amazing. It was the best sandwich I had in my life and I-"

"What are you talking about? I am asking you about Alison Brown's blood work." Will was grateful that for once he was not the weird one in the room.

"Yeah, she had diabetes. I ate the sandwich Dr. Lecter has made for you." He confessed again, giving more context.

"Did you enjoy it?" Hannibal asked.

"So much."

"I am pleased to hear that."

Hannibal had already killed Jimmy in three different ways in his head. He had eaten his Will's food. At the same time, he was pleased with the good review. And it gave him a good reason to take Will out for lunch. Will would not starve himself while he was there to help him with the case.

He made the quick decision not to end Jimmy's life that evening.

"You're fine. Hannibal is not the Chesapeake Ripper, you won't die." Will said as he returned his attention to the file he was holding. "Now, what was wrong with Allison's kidney?"

Hannibal eyed Will in a way that held more meaning than Will's colleagues would ever be able to understand. The fact that Will made that comment being completely aware he was the Ripper, made him smile.

[neptuneiris]

for the crown (02/03)

and then suddenly i cared even less, too broken to stay.

pairing: prince!aemond × lowborn!reader

summary: you gave yourself to him, you love him, he said that despite your low status at court, he will still marry you, because you are his, the woman who was his friend since childhood, until the war comes.

word count: 8.6k

previous part • next part • series masterlist

and here I am again, realizing that I can't anticipate that it will be two parts only, because if I leave it at two, the chapter will be extremely long, so there will be part 3 haha. thank you for reading, enjoy!🥰

warnings: sex content, angst, denigration, abusive behavior, possessiveness, infidelity, betrayal.

If Aemond thought he would have a perfect escape with you after he decided to take you with him to Harrenhal as well, he was wrong.

With only a few dresses, a few pairs of shoes and your night gown, you emerge from your chamber holding Aemond's hand, both of you having a firm grip on each other, ready to march to DragonPit and eventually fly to Harrenhal.

With the entire Prince Regent's army ready to listen to Sr. Criston Cole's command upon seeing Aemond's signal in the skies, your prince is interrupted in the middle of his action as he is basically stealing you away by his mother, his grandsire and also your father right at the gates to leave the Keep.

Your father watches you completely surprised, ready and willing to leave with the prince, while the Queen Dowager and Otto Hightower watch Aemond completely confused and alert.

Also both watching you basically not understanding anything.

"Aemond, what is the meaning of this?"

"What are you doing?"

His mother and grandsire instantly inquire, clearly disapproving of this madness, but Aemond couldn't care less, watching the three of them indifferently.

While you start to worry and basically hide behind him, not letting go of his hand.

"Y/N?"

Your father calls you softly, confused and uncomprehending, looking for your gaze.

But when you look back at him, he knows you've already made your choice, so he begins to get more alert and seriously worried.

"What are you doing?"

But you don't answer him, you can't.

Sorrowful, you seek more reassurance and support from Aemond, basically leaning closer to him, holding his hand a little tighter, revealing your nerves and your fear at having been discovered.

This Aemond notices instantly and stands in front of you with a determined and firm stance without letting go of your hand, facing this alone knowing that none of the three of them stand a chance against him.

"Y/N, come, please," your father pleads as he sees worried the prince's behavior, raising one of his hands in your direction.

"She will do no such thing, my Lord."

Aemond finally speaks, drawing the attention of the three of them as well as yours, watching him over his shoulder,

"Lady Y/N will come with me to Harrenhal. In fact we must leave now and this is not up for discussion," he makes it clear almost threateningly.

Your father immediately exchanges glances with the Queen, more than concerned and demanding that something be done about it, but the Queen Dowager also continues to stare at her son completely confused and as if she does not recognize him.

"Aemond, you can't do this," she tells him gently wanting to talk some sense into him.

"Have you forgotten about your betrothed? Lady Baratheon?" his grandsire inquires him seriously, "Her father is fully supporting you in this because of that betrothal. And when Lord Borros finds out you are enjoying the company of another woman he will not be very pleased and will call off his men."

"And that won't be very wise of him," he says completely disinterested, "It would be unwise for Lord Borros to no longer give me his support if he doesn't want all of Storm's End to burn."

"That's not how things work, Aemond," his mother tells him worriedly, watching him intently.

"I think that's exactly how things work, mother," he tells her in a more serious tone, "After all, I'm not breaking off the betrothal and eventually I'll have to marry his daughter or not?"

This immediately gets your attention, but right after Aemond says those words, he lightly squeezes your hand with his, as a signal.

He has told you that when the war is over, he will marry you and that he promised you. He's not meaning all this now, it's just a way for the two of you to finally leave.

"Aemond, you still can't do this, you're betrothed," she insists.

"And what about Lady Y/N?" his grandsire points out to him, "According to the news, she is also betrothed."

"I don't care. She's coming with me whether you like it or not," he says as a final word.

"My prince…"

Hour father quickly steps forward to speak, worried and almost anguished.

"I beg you not to do this, you cannot take her away, please," he begs, "Lord Hand is right, she is also betrothed. If you take her now her betrothed will not be pleased and will put her maidenhead in question. Because of this my daughter will probably not be able to find a good husband in the future."

His words and behavior makes you feel sorry for your father, as he is right. Basically Aemond will ruin you for all men by taking you away, that action already speaking for itself, as the two of you share a more intimate relationship.

What your father and his family don't know is that he has basically already ruined you by claiming your maidenhead. But of course neither Aemond nor you will say it out loud.

"Don't worry, my Lord," he tells him still disinterested, "I'm sure by the end of all this, you and I will come to a generous agreement for my indiscretion."

Still, this does not reassure your father at all.

"B-but, please my prince, you c-can't…" he begins to speak nervously, looking at you pleadingly, "You can't take her away, please. I have already come to an agreement with her betrothed, they'll be waiting for her to discuss the wedding, please—

"I've told you not to worry, Lord Y/L/N," Aemond tells him again seriously and annoyed.

"But…

"You dare to question your prince's order?"

Aemond inquires him instantly, watching him serious, threatening and expectant, while your father purses his lips into a thin line as Aemond continues to threaten him with his gaze, then looks at his mother and grandsire in the same manner.

"You are also against my own word?"

"Aemond, please," his mother pleads with him as well.

"Don't be a fool, Aemond. Enough of this nonsense," his grandsire tells him seriously, "You are making a big mistake that will cost you the battle if you lose soldiers."

"That will be my problem, not yours," he tells her in the same manner as he does, ready to resume his journey again, "Besides we are not going to lose anything and I advise you not to question me anymore, any of the three of you," he warns them.

These are the final words of Prince Aemond, the Prince Regent, the one who currently holds the crown and carries the weight of the entire Realm on his shoulders, with his other hand he takes your waist and begins to lead the two of you on your way out of the Keep.

The only thing you can feel at that moment as you walk away is the worried and anguished look on your father's face, while you feel sorry for him.

However, you don't want to marry this Lord Beesbury, you don't even know him and you know that your father blindly gave your hand in marriage.

But what you didn't expect is that you would have to walk away from your father, leaving him alone, when it has always been the two of you against the world, which is what really weighs on you and grieves you as you continue to walk away from him with no idea when you will see him again.

You also feel the stares of the Queen Dowager Alicent and Lord Otto on both of you, who probably don't even have any idea how to react to this, not even being in a position to do anything about it.

But Aemond doesn't even care about them and steadily and willingly continues his pace with you by his side, him leading you towards one of the horses that will take you both fast towards DragonPit.

Soon you both find yourselves flying towards Harrenhal, with Sr. Criston leading Aemond's entire army on the ground towards the cursed castle as well.

However… had you known what would await you later in that very place, a cursed castle where its curse never leaves and curses also the people who dare to set foot there, you would never have let Aemond take you with him.

Still, when your prince takes you with him to Harrenhal, you feel important.

You feel you are one of his complements to go on and win the war, like an incentive to gain motivation and strength.

At first, the black and dark castle scares you, knowing perfectly well its reputation and curse, but Aemond is the one who motivates you to stand by his side and help him in everything he needs.

He specifically asks you to settle in his chamber, where it will also be your room, while he once he takes over the castle, begins to plan strategies and move his entire army, alert to any threat and securing his position in Harrenhal.

You know very little about his planning because you know that his matters must be of no interest to you, so during the day, you can only find entertainment in books and learning a little more about the dark castle.

The only thing you attend to is your prince, waiting each night at the end of his exhausting days, as you can't really do much in these circumstances, only being available to him.

This fact does not bother you, but your boredom increases every day considering that you only see Aemond in the nights and very early the next day he is no longer by your side because he goes to attend to his duties.

In your loneliness, you often think about writing a letter to your father, just to let him know that you are well.

But you know that Aemond probably wouldn't be too pleased and you don't know if your father wants to hear from you after what happened.

You wouldn't be surprised if he was furious with you… after all, what you did was very unwise.

You could have stood firm with Aemond, you could have supported your father and attended to your duty properly, yet you did not.

And in the end the only thing that gives you comfort is that at least, by the end of these difficult times, you will finally marry Aemond. And by the time your father sees that, he will probably forgive you.

Today is another one of those days when Aemond has a lot on his mind, taking his position very seriously and getting frustrated when one thing doesn't turn out the way he expected.

It's a lot to handle even though he has Sr. Criston by his side, but that doesn't seem to be enough.

He constantly sends reports to Kings Landing with his position and what is currently happening, understanding that even though Aegon is injured, still his brother wants to be aware of everything, considering he is not at the Keep to protect them in case of anything.

There are countless times when Aemond does not rest properly as he has so much to think and do. And when he finally heads to his chamber almost at the Hour of the Wolf, you help him to get all that stress out of his system.

Aemond lets out a sigh as he lets his head fit all the way back, with his eye closed, as you begin to slowly move up and down his entire hard, heavy, swollen length, in need of release.

You moan and place your hands on his bare, firm chest for support, beginning to move your hips up and down in a more consistent pace, moving back and forth and even circling at times.

Aemond at all times lets you take control, which normally it is not usual for you to do as he prefers it to be him in charge, however this is another one of those nights where he is too tired not to let you ride him.

You groan and begin to move your hips faster and harder, as Aemond moans low and holds your waist firmly, watching as your bodies come together and as all of him repeatedly enters you.

You watch him in complete delight, his beautiful face contracted in pleasure, his brows furrowed and his lips parted, sighing and leaving marks on your skin with his long fingers.

You smile and lean fully into him, still moving, as you bring one of your hands to his hair, stroking it gently, and then bring your lips to his ear.

"Do you like it, my King?"

This only fills Aemond more with pleasure, who grunts and makes you increase the speed of your movements, as you moan loudly and feel him deliciously also ground on his feet and penetrate you harder.

The sound of skin on skin, your juices with his sweat and now Aemond claiming one of your breasts as he takes the nipple into his mouth, only makes you moan more in pleasure.

"Oh yes, my King. Just like that, please."

You whine, moaning and leaning further into him.

"Oh fuck—yes," he murmurs into your breasts, kneading them completely to his liking, "Yes, my Lady. Oh Gods."

You sigh and moan louder when Aemond suddenly takes all your hair in one of his hands, making it into a fist, to forcefully pull you down as he raises his hips in a firm upward motion, penetrating you hard and hitting exactly your nerve core.

All the air escapes your lungs and that explosion inside you begins to grow as Aemond penetrates you in that steadier way, not letting go of your hair, holding you tight.

"Are you going to cum?" he asks you in a deep husky voice.

"Yes," you moan, "Oh—fuck," you whimper.

"Cum, cum all on my cock, my sweet girl."

Then you are no longer thinking straight and become completely absorbed in the moment as he brings one of his hands between your bodies and begins to stroke his thumb over your most sensitive spot, causing you to close your eyes tightly, arch your back and continue to move with more fervor.

"Yes, yes, just like that," you moan, "Please, don't stop."

"Look at you," he grins, "Making a mess."

"Please, my King."

He grunts and increases his speed more as he again begins to suck on one of your nipples and then everything about you explodes in a delicious and more than satisfied way as Aemond fucks you hard across your peak, seeking his own release.

And by the end of the night, with one hard, strong, final thrust, he spills all of his seed inside you, filling you completely.

You let yourself fall completely on top of him, just as exhausted and breathing fast, catching your breath, as Aemond continues all soft and warm inside you.

You relax your lips and lazily raise your gaze to him, while still remaining on top of his hard, strong body, to see him also catching his breath, calming his heart rate and looking so tired.

You leave a soft kiss on his lips and move off on top of him to lie down next to him.

As every night, Aemond pulls your body to him and hugs your back as the two of you begin to be carried away by sleep, both of you more than satisfied, especially him after so much pressure and stress.

This is the way you can help him and be there for him. Honestly you don't complain, because as each time Aemond takes you, everything becomes more and more intense, already being more of a necessity.

Even during the day, one of his guards seeks you out and lets you know that the prince has requested your presence immediately in the room where Aemond plans his strategies and has meetings with all his advisors.

Arriving there, you expected anything but Aemond needing to fuck you right there in his chair and where it is a public place, even though only he and you is here.

"Try not to make too much noise, my love."

That's all he says to you and then makes you start riding him again, while you hold on and lean on his shoulders, moaning into his neck, while he listens to the sounds you make only for him and continues to demand that you move faster, harder and deeper.

You let your whole head fall back, closing your eyes in pleasure and you part your lips, as Aemond attacks and leaves marks all over your neck, grunting and holding you as if his life depended on it.

You move deep from front to back and he moans into your neck.

"Oh fuck—just like that, don't stop," he tells you hoarsely.

You gasp and muffle your moans as he desperately makes your breasts spring free through the collar of your dress and attacks them like a hungry man, as he brings both hands to the soft skin of your ass, kneading both your cheeks.

You cry out from the pleasure and continue to move deep from front to back.

"Yes, Aemond, yes," you moan.

"Always so responsive," he murmurs with delight.

He gazes proudly at your hard nipples, slightly red and swollen from his caresses, as he brings his hand to your center and strokes you with his thumb firmly, feeling all your juices sliding down his fingers.

"You like it, don't you?" he watches you with a grin, "You like it when I fuck you hard."

"Yes," you say as best you can, in a whisper.

He grunts and stops your movements abruptly to suddenly charge you and rise from his chair, as he sits you on the edge of the big table in front of him where the maps perch and begins to penetrate you faster and harder.

That time you had to drink moon tea again, considering that the dragon seed is strong and Aemond insists that always after every act, you must drink it, not even being able to let yourself forget it.

So the days go by when the unexpected news arrives about the battle of Lakeshore, where Aemond loses numerous men, all from the Lannister army, where they were attacked by a Northern army, being a major loss for the Greens and a victorious battle for the Blacks.

Aemond, furious, orders the death of Simon Strong and his entire family, as well as nearly killing the soldier who told him the news, blinded by his own anger and madness.

While you confined to your room, you can only wait for him to return to you when he has taken care of the whole matter, but with that great loss, Aemond and everyone begins to realize that they are losing the war.

If before Aemond didn't sleep and rest properly, with this news he doesn't anymore, to which you can only continue to wait, worried about him but unable to truly do anything, spending days in which you don't see Aemond anymore.

Until one night, the unexpected news arrives, but this time only for you.

"Where is Prince Aemond, Ellya?" you ask the maid who has been at your disposal since you arrived here, "Have you seen him? Do you know what he is doing with his men?"

She gives you a somewhat wary and curious look at the same time.

"You haven't heard, my Lady?"

This immediately catches your attention and you watch her completely attentively.

"About what?"

She blinks a couple of times, watching you a little surprised, to which this draws your attention more and alerts you, watching her intrigued, while she looks hesitant for a few moments, not quite sure if she is the one to tell you the new news.

"Ellya, what's wrong?" you urge her, beginning to worry.

She swallows hard, lets out a long breath and looks at you with some pity.

"The prince has approached the witch, the witch of Harrenhal," she lets you know, "For days now it seems the two of them started having their meetings."

You watch her more than attentively and confused at the same time, having no idea who this witch is, but instantly getting a bad feeling about the whole thing. You ask Ellya to explain who she is and she tells you everything.

Alys Rivers.

That's her name and apparently she's a bastard of Lyonel Strong, the once lord of Harrenhal who burned to death along with his son right here in this castle.

When you then remember… she is that same woman that Aemond did not give the order to kill and apparently spared her life when he killed Simon Strong and all his kin.

Instantly your assumptions are correct when Ellya tells you that this woman possesses dark magic and those kinds of abilities through witchcraft. And again you don't get that good feeling if Aemond has searched for her and is apparently having meetings with her.

Certainly after knowing this, you can't ask Aemond anything about it since you don't see him and don't dare go looking for him with all the duties he has to attend to.

However, the uncertainty lingers and all the time you think about it, feeling worried just imagining Aemond having encounters with her and also scared about what she might do.

Until one night finally the opportunity presents itself when you see the night through the small windows in comparison to the Keep, unable to fall asleep, when the doors open and you turn to see Aemond enter the chamber after so many days.

"Aemond?"

You call out to him in your soft, sleepy voice from trying to fall asleep but you simply can't, thinking all the while of him and her, the witch, as he watches you without at all expecting to hear your voice.

And even though you shouldn't, at that moment you feel sorry for him. You can tell he hasn't slept well in days, his whole face shows it to you, the extreme tiredness reflecting through his body as well, truly worrying you.

And that's why he actually watches you without having any expression on his face, leaving his sword on one of the tables and starting to take off his belts, preparing to sleep.

"Keep sleeping. I'll join you in a moment," he tells you just the same without much emotion in his voice.

"Where have you been?" you still ask him, carving your eyes, watching him closely, "I haven't seen you in days."

He lets out a long breath, turning his back on you and continuing to remove his clothes.

"Are you forgetting that we are at war?" he asks, "What do you mean, where have I been? Of course I have been leading all my men and attending to my duties as Protector of the Realm."

You press your lips together, instantly understanding that you must not upset and irritate him any more than he clearly already is. Still, like the stubborn one you are, you can't help yourself and again speak in his direction.

"I know, Aemond," you say softly, "But that's not what I meant. I meant that you didn't come here to sleep."

"I barely have time to sleep, Y/N," he tells you definitely more serious, alerting you, "And now that I finally have the chance, you're not letting me have my five minutes of peace," he tells you bitterly.

"No, Aemond, I swear that's not my intention," you instantly clarify, concerned.

"Then?" he looks over his shoulder at you, serious and clearly irritated, "You're going to let me be able to undress and sleep in peace?"

"Yes, of course," you tell him instantly, bewildered, "I-I just wanted…" you bite your lips, nervous, "…to know where you'd been," you mumble barely audibly.

And even though Aemond has heard you, he still doesn't say anything else, still taking off his clothes and with every movement feeling more tiredness all over his body, urgently needing to lie down on the bed and sleep as much as he can.

But you continue to watch him more attentively than before, Alys Rivers not leaving your thoughts and what he has talked or has been doing with her, that precisely not leaving you alone.

So in the middle of the silence, you dare to ask him in a soft murmur, watching him carefully.

"You were with Alys Rivers?"

Then suddenly Aemond stops his movements abruptly, slowly turning his head towards your direction, but only a part of it, barely managing to watch you over his shoulder, the tension in his whole body being more than visible.

When without further ado he resumes his movements, saying absolutely nothing to you and turning his back to you, while you continue to watch him attentively and expectantly for his response, whatever it may be.

And it is not until Aemond finishes processing your question that he finally answers you or rather answers you with another question in a serious and cold voice.

"Who told you that?"

You swallow hard, truly not wanting to give Ellya away.

"I heard it."

"From who? Where?"

He demands to know, more serious and annoyed, turning fully towards you. That's when you see his dark face, clearly annoyed, you stare at him bewildered, really not understanding his behavior.

"What's wrong? Why didn't you want me to know?"

At this he continues to stare at you annoyed, his lips pressed into a thin line and clearly irritated by your questioning, while you, starting to feel fearful, still continue to stare at him with your whole face soft but in confusion.

Aemond lets a few seconds pass, when he averts his gaze from yours for a moment as he licks his lips and finally lets out a long breath to turn his back on you again.

He reassures himself, having already taken into account from before that it would be impossible for you not to hear the name of the witch of Harrenhal and also how he would find himself in her company at times.

However, in a way I had hoped that you wouldn't find out and wouldn't question anything about it.

But with everything going on, him losing the war and resorting to desperate measures, there is basically no such thing as his patience and good humor.

"She's helping me with some war matters, nothing else."

He tells you coldly as you watch him and listen completely attentively, not understanding his answer.

"War matters?" you repeat.

"Yes, war matters," he repeats back to you as well, serious.

"And it's not something I can help you with?" you ask him without understanding.

He lets out a long sigh again this time, his patience again beginning to hang by a thread.

"No Y/N, you don't know all of Riverlands and the most convenient spots where I can send and command my men," he tells you serious, "Nor do you know the secret paths and where they might attack us by surprise, but she does."

At this you remain completely silent, watching him with your lips parted, thinking about his words.

This really continues to give you a very bad feeling, frustrating you because even though he has explained, you still don't feel convinced and can't do anything about it, not wanting to bother him anymore.

But it strikes you how he has been annoyed that you have asked him about her, that you have talked about her, so bringing up the matter again would not be smart on your part.

Still, you can't stay quiet.

"Nothing else?"

"Yes, nothing else," he tells you quickly and still in his serious tone.

You don't say anything else, watching him attentively, while he remains completely naked in front of you, as he usually likes to sleep. And still not feeling convinced, you decide not to bother him anymore and return to your same position as before to be lucky enough to sleep this time.

But you can't.

You continue watching the void, when you feel Aemond's weight sinking on the bed next to you, while you turn your back to him and think about his words, also about the witch and the two of them.

You press your lips together and finally close your eyes, needing to sleep to stop thinking.

However, this one night Aemond doesn't even come close towards you. Normally he always wraps one of his arms around your body and pulls you close to his body to sleep close, but nothing, he doesn't do anything.

And the next morning you wake up, he is gone.

Your days again pass without seeing Aemond, always being in your chamber and barely getting any news about what is going on with your prince and his side of the war.

At least you find comfort in your maidservants, with whom you talk and give you some company.

You also wander around the castle only a little during the day, not lasting long for fear that Aemond might find out and get annoyed with you not having any guards with you. But considering you don't have much to do, this comforts you as well.

When one day, the whispers in the cursed castle become too loud and rumors reach your ears: your prince is sharing a bed with the witch of Harrenhal.

This shocking and devastating news you don't want to believe, thinking that it is simply impossible because Aemond is yours, just as you are his. Or so you thought.

But even though you try to convince yourself that Aemond wouldn't do such a thing to you, betray you with another woman, let alone a witch, sadly it all starts to make sense to you.

He hadn't gone to sleep in his chamber, you also chambered, basically you didn't see him at all. And even though he told you he barely has time to sleep, he still must have… but not in the room you both share.

You really don't want to believe it, especially since he told you himself that she's only been helping him with war matters, nothing else.

But you knew all along that he wasn't being honest with you, you had that intuition and these rumors just confirmed it.

It is not until you see Aemond again after severe days without him being in your presence that you can finally confront him about it.

"You lied to me, didn't you?"

You ask him with your soft tone but sad at the same time, disappointed, with tears wanting to start coming out of your eyes when he watches you and he doesn't even need to ask you what you mean, because he instantly knows.

But it hurts you more when he lets out a long breath, it being another one of those times where you both barely see each other and he's already upset and annoyed by your behavior.

"See? This is why I didn't tell you, because of how you react," he tells you serious and watching you badly, tired.

"So you were planning to never tell me?" you ask sadly.

"You don't understand Y/N. You don't understand anything."

You look at him hurt.

"And how am I supposed to understand if you don't talk to me?" you ask confused, "Is this why you decided to bring me here with you? For me to stand here waiting for you while you enjoy the company of another woman?"

He lets out a huff as he rolls his eye in annoyance.

"You're getting it all wrong," he tells you serious, "I'm not doing it for my own satisfaction, I'm doing it because it's necessary and in order to win the war."

You continue watching him confused, not understanding what he is referring to or rather not understanding what that has to do with lying with her, to which Aemond, frustrated, explains to you in order to end this matter once and for all.

"Alys… she can see things, she knows things" he tells you, "Her power helps me to know what will happen next and what exactly I must do against the threats, what strategies to plan in order not to lose more of my men and thus win the war."

"And for that you must sleep with her?" you ask in pain.

"Getting that kind of information is not easy, Y/N," he tells you absurdly, "Of course she must have asked me for something in return and that is her form of payment."

You deny with your head, still watching him confused.

"But you don't necessarily have to pay her that way. You are the prince, she must obey you and in return for that… you can offer her gold or something else."

Crees que eso no fue lo mismo que yo pensé en ofrecerle?

"Do you think that wasn't the same thing I thought of offering her?" he inquires you annoyed, "Of course I did but she give me nothing."

And yet he decided to give her exactly what she wanted.

Your mind tells you, as you continue to watch him intently and pained, as he turns his back to you and you see him starting to take off his belts at the same time you feel that sharp pain in your chest, thinking about all the weeks he had been keeping this from you.

And when you asked him, he still lied to you.

"But…" you try to say, watching him sadly, "I'm sure you don't need her, Aemond."

He lets out a derisive, dry snort, shaking his head slightly, this hurting you instantly as well, but you continue to insist on changing his mind so that he doesn't have to do this… win the war through witchcraft.

"There are other ways that I know are more complicated and time consuming, but you can win and fairly, I know that," you observe him hopefully.

He laughs unfunnily, low and bitterly, as he turns to you again and looks at you as if you were a fool.

"How easy it is to talk when you're not the one serving the Realm and losing a war, isn't it?"

You watch him completely speechless, while he takes a couple of steps towards you watching you even in that way and completely upset and annoyed because you don't understand him.

You don't understand anything of what is happening and what he must be doing.

"What are you doing here besides warming my bed, hmm?"

He inquires you with a cruel tone, his words instantly being a dagger to your heart.

"Yes, it's true, I was the one who decided to bring you here with me and I made you a promise for the end of all this, didn't I?"

He asks you seriously and expectantly.

"But now the least you can do is to understand me and give me peace, whether you like what I have to do or not," he makes it clear in a threatening tone, "And what I must do now Y/N, for the good of the Realm and to secure my brother's Throne, is to keep Alys on my side because I need her and I need her very much."

This last is completely etched in your mind, watching it attentively, your lips half open and the first tear falling down your cheek, under the attentive and annoying gaze of Aemond, who in spite of this does not care and turns away to continue undressing.

Then the other tears run down both of your cheeks, feeling more intense that sharp pain in your chest, hurting you completely by his insensitivity and how even though you know he is sleeping with another woman, he still doesn't care about you.

When has Aemond ever needed you the way he has told you he needs her?

Never.

You thought that bringing you here with him was his way of telling you that he needs you, but now that you have to share him with another woman and he apparently doesn't care about your feelings, you think it was all a bad idea.

You swallow the tight lump in your throat and clear your tears as you avoid completely breaking down by being in the same place as him.

"Perhaps I should go back to King's Landing," you say amidst the silence and tense atmosphere, avoiding hearing yourself as broken as you really are, "Perhaps I should talk to my father, apologize and do my duty by getting married."

Again Aemond lets out an unfunny and completely incredulous laugh, again turning to watch you but with the difference that he is actually watching you slightly amused and expectantly at the same time.

"Don't tell me, Y/N."

He watches you intently.

"And who are you going to marry, hmm? Or rather who or who will want to marry you?"

He asks you still amused.

"Haven't you thought that I've already ruined you for any other man by the simple fact of having brought you here with me? Haven't you thought that with that alone people can assume an intimate relationship between the two of us? Although it's not really an assumption, it's a fact, isn't it? For a long time now."

Tears again steadily stream down your cheeks, watching him with all the pain in your gaze, as he again averts his gaze from yours and again shakes his head in disbelief.

And you know he's right.

But you don't think it's fair that he can get annoyed with you when you call the attention of other men, but you are in a much worse position, he doesn't care how you feel because he is the man, he is the prince and you must understand him.

So it doesn't matter that he can have as many women as he wants at his disposal, in any way, while you should be reserved only for him.

"Stop crying," he tells you cold and serious, without looking at you, "If you feel so bad for Alys, understand that this is just for the moment, it will all be over when I win the war, so stop this foolishness."

And there it is again… his insensitivity.

And after that… everything changes.

That night Aemond again doesn't try to touch you or hug you during his sleep, nor is it as if you would want him to, considering that he had probably been in her company before.

That is why now knowing that Aemond warms her bed, you no longer desire his touch or even his presence.

And not only because of that, but also because of the way he had made you feel with his cruel behavior and with his cruel words, and that painful feeling just won't go away, not even him realizing how much he did and does hurt you.

Fortunately you continue not seeing him very often, in all that time just locked in your chamber, not even having the courage to talk and enjoy the company of the maids as usual, wanting to be alone all the time, going back to your days of having no appetite and no mood for anything.

If Aemond notices, he doesn't say anything to you or do anything about it, just watches you intently every time he appears in the chamber, where you just greet him and nothing else, not really giving him attention like before, your whole gaze dull, empty, disinterested and sad.

You can smell a strong scent, like citrus and a bit sweet at the same time on his clothes sometimes when he comes to the chamber very late at night, certainly belonging to her and of course he must not even notice it.

And not only that, cautiously you can see some marks on his neck and chest as he begins to undress, to which you lie on the bed with your back to him and completely covering yourself with the sheets, letting a few tears fall without him seeing you and without making a sound until you fall asleep.

Now all you think of when you see him is him in the company of his witch, receiving everything she offers him, her visions and letting him know everything he wants to know, in exchange for sleeping with her.

It is not until days later that he slowly begins to approach you again to caress and touch you.

At first you didn't let him turn your back to him and he started to caress you by putting his arm across your stomach, trying to pull you closer to him.

But when you stayed completely still and with your eyes full of tears, he felt the tension all over your body and at the end he let out a long sigh and stopped touching you, resigning himself.

You didn't understand why he needed that from you when he certainly always gets that from her.

That went on for a few more weeks, until Aemond was beginning to lose patience with not being able to have you that he finally lost it completely.

And you had to give in to pleasing him, letting him make you his after a considerable time. However, he was no longer making you feel anything.

Just the thought that he had previously been inside her and now he's inside you looking like he can't get enough… it was too much.

Aemond doesn't notice your lack of disinterest as he begins to fuck you, nor does he notice how your heart breaks into pieces. And it's not until you stop being responsive to his touch that he's finally disconcerted.

Without feeling your juices that made penetration easier, he gasps and lifts his gaze to you, peeling his face from your neck, watching you intently and curiously, still entering you continuously.

"What is it, my lady? Doesn't it feel good?"

You don't answer.

You don't even look him in the eye.

At this, Aemond kisses you with need, moving in and out of you faster, needing your response, for you to feel the same as he does, as before.

But it doesn't feel good, not good at all.

After that night, unable to stand being cooped up in your chamber any longer for the whole day, you decide to go out into the hallways and eventually end up in the kitchens to offer your hands to the maids for whatever it is they need.

You can't even stand your loneliness anymore, so you finally enjoy the company of the maids and help out as needed, even taking your meals with them and even returning at night to the chamber, almost at the same time as Aemond.

Surprisingly, he notices this and questions you about doing maid duties as well, telling you that you have no need, to which you without much emotion tell him that it's all right, that you like to help, not to say anything else to him and clearly not to give more importance to the matter.

In those moments is when he starts to get tired of your behavior, when the truth is that even he doesn't understand himself.

Before it bothered him that you cared too much about him and that you questioned absolutely everything, but now that you have stopped doing it, it also bothers him your lack of interest in him when before you were always there at his disposal, also bothering him your cold behavior.

But it bothers him more that you don't even respond to him anymore when he makes you his.

However, he knows he can't blame you for her, for Alys, because you know what he is doing with her in the darkness of her chamber in exchange for what.

But it still bothers him.

Fortunately for you, he decides to give you time and not force you into anything again if you don't want him to, to which you could only feel relieved, although you still have to endure how he hugs you during his sleep but nothing more.

It is not until one night that you return to your chamber later than usual, since you lost track of time and were all the time in the company of the maids, that you think that Aemond must probably still be attending to his duties or that he must already be asleep… or that he must be in the company of his witch.

The latter is what you believe the most, not surprisingly. In the end, however, it does surprise you.

About to open the door to your room, you don't have to, as it opens on the other side and you find yourself face to face with a woman with pale skin, huge green eyes, long black hair and wearing a robe around her body, holding it with one of her hands.

Your eyes widen and you freeze completely, as she stares back at you with such intensity that it almost brings you to tears, but in the end it is not that, but the realization of what has happened here, in your chamber, which is in fact more yours than Aemond's.

You then watch behind her, where Aemond instantly watches you with an expression you can't really read, as he finishes buttoning his belt, with his entire torso naked and the clear marks on his neck.

Again… you feel that sharp pain in your chest, the sadness and humiliation hitting you hard, with your tears starting to want to spill out of your eyes and run down your cheeks, watching him with the most hurt look of all.

How could he dare?

You don't even expect anything else, you just run away from there, tears streaming down your cheeks instantly, as you hear Aemond say your name, quickly coming after you.

But you don't look back, not even wanting to look him in the eye, having no idea where you're really heading, but not in your greatest madness are you ever going to lie in that bed again, not even he having any respect for you in that regard.

Still Aemond is quicker and manages to catch up to you, grabbing you hard by your arm, demanding you to stop and watch him, pulling you closer to his body, to which you put up resistance and crying you try with all your might to get him to let go of you to get away from him, but he won't let you.

"Y/N! Look at me!"

You can't.

You don't want to.

He irritated, grabs you firmly with both hands, reluctantly stopping you, while you continue to cry and feel completely weak, everything about him, his grip on you when he had touched her on your bed before and that scent of hers also impregnated in him… it's too much.

"Let go of me."

You say pleadingly, sobbing, trying to pull away from him.

"Stop fucking acting like this!" he exclaims to you in annoyance.

You deny with your head.

"H-how could you?"

"Look at me," he demands.

"No! Let go of me!" you resist again, very hurt and very humiliated.

"I said look at me!"

He exclaims to you angrily, grabbing your face with both of his hands and making you look at him in a firm and demanding manner, his grip strong.

At this you stand completely still, but still crying and sobbing, trying to control yourself, but you cannot.

Thinking about it, about her and him already hurt you enough, but now having seen it… you can't stand it, as well as his touch now on you, finding it unpleasant.

And when you finally open your eyes and dare to look at him again, he is worried about noticing all that pain, rejection and displeasure.

However, he doesn't allow it and continues to hold you in that firm manner.

"Listen to me," he says seriously and firmly, "This was the last time, the last one."

You put up a resistance again, not believing his words at all, looking absurd in the midst of all your pain.

"Y/N!" he exclaims stopping you again, looking at you as honestly as possible, " It has been the last time, truly," he insists, "I promise."

You say nothing to him, just continue to cry almost silently, as he promises and assures you over and over again, wanting to reassure you, when the truth is you don't even believe him, so you make him believe that you do, to which he finally lets go of you.

"Go back to the chamber and wait there for me, she's gone," he tells you softly, but still firm and demanding.

And you are surprised how he dares in ordering you such a thing, while you just nod so you can finally get away from him and feeling relieved you do so, definitely not going back to that room, at all.

You find another empty chamber where you lie down on the bed right there and continue to let the tears flow freely from your eyes, trying to calm down little by little, feeling so lonely, so silly and as if you mean nothing.

It is not until after Aemond finishes talking to Alys and returns to the chamber expecting to find you there, but nothing.

He lets out a long breath, frustrated, only to later ask his guards where you've gone to find you in another chamber, completely balled up, asleep and with dried tears on your cheeks, your whole face suffering.

He lets out another long breath, running a hand through his face and hair, shuffling it in frustration, that he decides not to do anything else, just leave you alone to sleep, that being the least he can do for you after witnessing such a thing taking advantage of your absence.

Severe days has passed since that breaking point between you and Aemond, where neither of you have spoken about it.

He tried, of course, to explain to you so that he could properly ask for your forgiveness, but you never let him, not wanting or needing to hear anything from him, still too hurt and too humiliated to bear such thing.

Since then, you now sleep in that new chamber, this not being to Aemond's liking at first.

But acting so cold to him, not even being able to look him in the eye when he spoke to you and making you so tense in his presence, he understood that he could not force you to sleep with him if you did not wish to do so.

Aemond hated every moment when he did not wake up with you by his side, also when he could not touch you and make you his, or have the maids assist him in absolutely everything, when before it was only you.

If he kept his promise not to have any more meetings with Alys, you were no longer interested in knowing, only focusing on you and sometimes on him when he asked you for something, but always with that cold and indifferent behavior.

When the time of battle comes again.

He and his entire army prepares to march to a point where Alys had told him before that it would be where an army fighting for his half-sister would be and that is approaching Harrenhal.

Aemond awaits the return of Sr. Criston with a small but efficient army that he prepared for him by sending him and those men to the nearest house settlements of Harrenhal to demand that they bend the knee for his brother Aegon.

Once he returns with those men, they can finish preparing and stop that army of Rhaenyra's, having him more opportunity to protect his entire army from the skies and burn as much as he can.

You along with some maids provide food to the men who will go to battle, you also help with their supplies, walking back and forth under the watchful eye of Aemond being so helpful to his men, this not pleasing him but not being able to do anything about it either.

When an ambush happens.

Everything happens too fast, as suddenly a not very big army surrounds all of Aemond's surprisingly with black flags, symbol of Rhaenyra.

And then a man grabs you by force, takes you to the center of the whole ambush and then puts a dagger in your neck.

[satansapostle6]

Kids | Rodrick Heffley

Spotify Playlist Link

Rodrick Heffley becomes obsessed when he finally meets his thirty-five year old band mate, Bill Walter’s, younger sister.

Warnings: Mature themes/language. Drug use. Violence. Almost smut. Choking. Semi-public. Knee riding.

“The Angel From My Nightmare”

“10 Things I Hate About You”

“Alright, go have fun. Come get me if you need something,” Sara told her younger brother.

“Do you have to stay?” Connor complained as she and Lauren sat at a table.

“Sorry, kiddo. We gotta have fun too,” she teased. “Go. Have fun. We’ll be all the way over here, you won’t even know we’re here.”

That turned out to be completely wrong.

“It’s super crowded in here… Even Heather Hills and her friends are here tonight,” Lauren observed.

“Ew. She puts the ‘bully’ in bulimic,” Sara muttered.

“Yeah, even I’m not that far in denial,” Lauren agreed, turning as everyone noticed a loud feedback coming off of the DJ’s microphone.

The music stopped, and no one knew what was happening.

“Alright, enough of that,” Rodrick Heffley’s voice blasted over the speakers, replacing the music that had been playing.

Everyone at the roller rink stopped to see that he and the rest of the band had set up near the DJ booth, completely hijacking the music.

“Oh my God,” Lauren whispered, looking to Sara. “Did you know about this?”

“No,” Sara hissed, looking at Rodrick in horror.

“We are Löded Diper, and we’re here to blow your minds,” Bill joined in.

“Oh my fucking God,” Sara murmured, trying her best to blend into the crowd as she scooted as far down the bench as possible.

But she quickly found that anonymity definitely wouldn’t be in the cards for her tonight.

“I’m Rodrick. Rodrick Heffley,” a shaky voice breathed into the mic.

“Hurry up!” someone’s dad yelled, more irritated about not hearing music than the whole music hijacking situation.

“Alright, uh… I’m here to sing one song. It’s a very special song, that goes out to a very special girl. Sara? Sara Walter?” Rodrick desperately searched the crowd for her.

He eventually found her, staring right at her as everyone in the roomed stared, including Heather Hills and the other ‘popular’ girls. Sara’s eyes widened with rage as her little brother and his friends all stared in her direction.

“Sara,” Rodrick stared, his eyes full of fear. “I… I’m sorry. You’re the prettiest, smartest girl in the world.”

Sara’s face went pale as she slowly turned to Lauren with all eyes on her.

“What the fuck?” she mouthed silently.

It seemed no one had anything to offer.

“Sara, I know you’re probably mad at me, and you probably should be. You’re beautiful, and you’re kind, and I don’t deserve you,” he blurted out as everyone watched.

Heather and her friends were now whispering and pointing in disgust.

“Listen, Sara, I get it if you never wanna talk to me again… But I really, really like you,” Rodrick announced in front of the entire building.

“Get on with it already!” another impatient onlooker shouted.

“Right, yeah, here goes,” he continued, rambling as he signaled to the band to start playing. “This song is for you, Sara Walter.”

Bill waved to her excitedly, completely unable to read the room as he tried to make the situation less intense. She watched, completely frozen as the band started playing. It was a bit rocky in the first few seconds, but then, she immediately recognized the song after the first few chords.

Struck by the effort that went into coordinating the entire thing, Sara could hardly control her racing thoughts. She didn’t know whether to be angry at Rodrick for the spectacle, or charmed by the gesture, or creeped out by the entire thing.

“And I’d give up forever to touch you…” the sixteen year old boy sang shakily in front of the crowd, his vocals questionable at best.

“'Cause I know that you feel me somehow

You're the closest to heaven that I'll ever be

And I don't want to go home right now,”

Some people in the room, namely Heather’s group, laughed and whispered as Rodrick took the stage. Eventually, the teasing throughout the room got to be brutal, but he still persisted, trying his best not to break.

“God, he’s an idiot, but I still feel kinda bad,” Sara murmured.

“Sara. I’m gonna be completely honest with you,” Lauren raised an eyebrow. “You need to go kiss that boy right now.”

“Seriously? I’m just gonna run back into his arms because he made a fool of himself for me?” she reasoned. “That’s his whole brand!”

“Sara,” Lauren reminded her, her approach stern but caring. “Would Jake Anderson ever have performed your favorite slow song for you in a room full of people, even if his singing was pretty dog shit?”

Sara sat in silence for a moment as everyone still looked over at her, trying to gauge her reaction.

“What about Tyler Hayden? Or Lenwood Heath?”

“Okay, I get your point,” Sara said softly.

“I haven’t seen anybody give this much of a fuck for you since you were with Nadine,” Lauren admitted. “And you know how much I liked you guys.”

“Yeah,” Sara thought, considering her options.

“I think he really means what he says. Even if he’s fucking stupid,” Lauren told her.

Sara just sighed, looking up at Rodrick on the platform as he sang for her, never taking his eyes off her even once. It was the only thing keeping him grounded.

“And I don't want the world to see me

'Cause I don't think that they'd understand

When everything's made to be broken

I just want you to know who I am,”

He sang like his life depended on it, which it kind of did. As much as Sara hated to admit it, she saw a look of genuine regret in his eyes that day. All she could think about was how much she really did like Rodrick, all the way until the end of the song.

It ended and a complete silence washed over the room, as just about everyone just stood around waiting for a resolution. Even security had been waiting until the spectacle was over to intervene. This wasn’t the first time this had happened, but it was the first time that yielded any interesting results.

Of course, Heather and her friends wouldn’t stop whispering, but Rodrick refused to pay them any mind. He cleared his throat as the song ended, staring out at Sara with a sad, dopey look in his eyes as he prayed she’d forgive him.

“Fuck it,” Sara muttered to herself, walking out onto the rink.

She marched up to the platform looking both angry and confused. Rodrick didn’t know what to expect, and slowly stepped down in shock. He stood right in front of her, walking up to her as he waited for her to react to him in some way.

“I’m sorry,” he started to apologize, “I didn’t know how to make it up to you—”

“I don’t care,” she said finally, a resolve in her eyes.

“What does that mean?” Rodrick asked, ignoring the girls who were pointing and making fun.

“That means, fuck it, Rodrick Heffley, I’m really starting to like you too.”

Rodrick’s grunt of surprise was muffled into a spontaneous kiss as Sara jumped into his arms, which was met with a mostly positive reaction from their audience. He was hesitant at first, slowly warming up to her again as he scooped her up in his arms, kissing her lips like he’d never get the chance to again.

After a moment, they remembered where they were, and Rodrick awkwardly set her down on the ground with reluctance. He looked up and down nervously, not sure what to say now.

“Can we go?” Sara asked, uncomfortable as she looked around.

“Yes,” he nodded automatically, willing to comply to her every whim, “Yes. We can.”

After being kicked out of the roller rink, again, Rodrick and the rest of the band walked out to the parking lot, reviewing their performance that night.

“You know, I know we’re metal and all, but that was fucking beautiful,” Ben seemed to be teary-eyes.

Rodrick and Sara stepped outside for a moment, as she leaned against the wall in silence, trying to think. Knowing what might comfort her, Rodrick pulled a pack of cigarettes from his pocket, opening it as he offered it to her. Nodding appreciatively at the gesture, Sara took one and held it in her mouth as he lit it for her.

“I’m sorry,” Rodrick blurted out finally, a pained but far away expression on his face, “I, uh… I didn’t know how else to show you I meant what I said. That I really, really like you.

“It’s okay,” Sara sighed, just hoping to move on from the issue, “I understand. Really. We all backtrack. I’m over it.”

“No, really. I don’t want you to think I made a scene just to distract from the way I acted,” he said slowly. “I really meant what I said—”

“Rodrick,” she said, eyes wide open, “It’s fine. It’s done. I’m over it.”

“No, I owe you an explanation,” he sighed, “I… I’ve just never had a real girlfriend before…”

“Dude, this isn’t exactly breaking news,” she looked at him with dead eyes.

“Okay, can you just not be a total fucking asshole for like one second?” Rodrick demanded with laughter.

“Okay, fine,” she threw her hands up in surrender, “I’m listening.”

The look on her face was less than convincing.

“You’re a bitch,” Rodrick laughed, no longer able to take himself seriously, “You’re a fucking bitch,” he pointed at her, his finger less than an inch from her face.

“Oh yeah?” she teased with a light chuckle, cigarette butt dropped to the ground and forgotten.

“Yeah.”

He stood in front of her, trying to remain serious as he leaned against the wall, his hand resting just above her head.

“You’re a fucking bitch,” he repeated playfully, trying to perfect his more serious demeanor.

“Am I a bitch, or are you just a little bitch?” Sara proposed, intentionally provoking him.

“No. You’re just a bitch,” he promised her.

Neither were sure exactly how it happened, but as he got in her face and challenged her, he attempted to jokingly pin her to the wall. At first, this entailed his arm resting on her chest, but then suddenly turned into something else entirely.

Rodrick didn’t intend it at all, but suddenly, the both of them found his hand slipped as he held her by the throat, still grinning.

“You’re such a fucking bitch,” he told her, before coming to and realizing that he was actually choking her.

First, his eyes fluttered as he realized the mistake he’d made, but once he saw he’d reaction, he felt himself giving into it.

“Fuck,” he moaned out loud, his finger pads pressing on her pressure points harder.

She softly sighed in excitement, the contact with the pressure points heightening the experience even more. Rodrick looked at her with pleading eyes as he choked her, admiring her gratuitously.

He leaned in to kiss her, groaning into her mouth as he pressed her against the wall with his large hand wrapped around her neck. She reacted by pulling him in by the collar, making him feel something even more euphoric. She deepens the kiss, tongue slipping into his mouth as he slowly moved his leg up her body, not stopping until his knee trailed down to her center.

For just a moment, he stopped kissing Sara, huffing softly into the warm skin of her neck.

“Is it bad that I kinda wanna see you fuck my knee right now?” he wondered.

“Yeah,” she nodded. “And it’s hot.”

He chuckled happily as he sucked on her neck, roughly biting and sucking. He pushed his knee against her, practically fucking her with it against the wall behind the roller rink. She quietly groaned in frustration as she tried to align herself perfectly on his knee.

“You’re so fucking hot,” he gasped, eyes closed as he kissed all over her neck. “I hope you know you could ask me for anything. I’d do anything for you, or to you.”

“You’re so sexy,” Sara whined.

“I’m serious. If you wanted me to, I’d eat it from the back, and enjoy it,” he said completely deadpan. “All I wanna do is take you home and lay you down and make you come any way I know how.”

“We should probably stop this,” Sara thought intuitively, “Before this wall ends up pregnant.”

“I can’t control myself when I’m around you. And not cuz I think you’re hot,” Rodrick stated. “Honestly. I just see you and I wanna give you everything.”

“You already have,” she confessed, never having seen anyone so willing to risk things for her.

-

A/N: not sure if this is good, wrote it after doing a line

-

[tanoraqui]

Dungeon Meshi Liveblog: In Which Chilchuck Begrudgingly Has Feelings for his Coworkers, and Kabru Has...Something. He Sure Has Something Going On Over There.

Before we continue, I feel I should clarify 2 things:

I've been trying, ish, to avoid spoilers for this comic, but I've watched through the Golden Country episode and more importantly I'm so bad at not reading spoiler-y but interesting- and insightful-looking analysis. So, much of this commentary isn't wholly original and any particularly genius theories of future events are likely made with actual foreknowledge.

When I said on the first post that I was starting the comic because "I need to know what happens", what I specifically meant was "I need to know how the Laios-Kabru dynamic ends up, and the general geopolitical situation, so I can accurately daydream what sort of tariffs they'll set in the kingdom of which Laios is definitely not going to be the one managing the political, economic, or social minutia." Tariffs are going to be important, okay. They're a key way a nation-state interacts with other nation-states, especially one with rare materials to trade, powerful neighbors who want them, and the natural barrier of an ocean. Truly, every fantasy series ever should be required to have an epilogue or many an additional book/season/etc of a The West Wing-style depiction of day-to-day governance of whatever resulted from the story's climactic finale.

Okay, back to the liveblog.

.

Inch resting. The manga characters, having met the Mad Mage, keep using she/her pronouns for them, where in the anime they used he/him. I assume one of these is just, like, wrong - some translation choice was made before truth was revealed later in the course of publication?

But it makes SENSE that the characters wouldn't necessarily know, at this point! The Mage's appearance is pretty gender-neutral, especially as an elf, an notably gender-ambiguous race. So the characters in the manga picked one guess and stuck with it, and the characters is the very slightly alternate timeline of the anime picked another and stuck with that!

Now: having used they/them throughout this musing and previously he/him because a) the show and b) that's what I saw in fandom, I think I'll switch to referring to the Mage with she/her pronouns now. Because A) that's how the thing I'm reading apparently will be doing it, and B) they still call her "Lord of the Dungeon", which is obviously the greatest gender option of all.

...however, the manga does keep saying "lunatic magician" rather than "Mad Mage" (caps mine), which is a TOTAL failing in drama. Always alliterate, preferably archaically.

.

Orc woman: Ugh, this halffoot sucks. I'll tolerate his company only as a favor to the vegetable guy.

Orc woman after listening to Chilchuck complain about his coworkers for an hour: Nvm, this halffoot is a worthy and loyal friend of the vegetable seller, and I guess those other guys too. He's just emotionally constipated about it.

.

Laios just has these soft little fond smiles sometimes and I? want to hug him?

.

MY MAN IS BACK!! Kabru wink count: 1 this chapter, 4 total [updated as I read]

.

Corpse Retriever: If you don't report us for trying to get you guys killed so we could collect a retrieval fee, we'll let you kill those two of our guys who are already unconscious and collect that fee yourselves. We'll just take 30% of it, for not telling on you.

Kabru, internally: Hm. Well, I'm not king of this dungeon yet, but nonetheless I feel comfortable passing and executing a just judgement upon you for your many known, presumed and planned crimes. Emphasis on 'executing.'

Kabru aloud: I accept!

Kabru: [starts killing them with a classic faint, wide-eyed smile]

What a guy. He's even holding that knife so well. Look, next he's analyzing social trends and acting ruthlessly to adjust them toward the direction of the greater good!

What a guy. Truly this is a "so my type that it's embarrassing" situation.

.

I can't efficiently crop panels to show all this, but favorite parallels in these chapters full of parallels:

Kabru's breakdown of the Touden party is like Laios eagerly explaining and analyzing the behavior and anatomy of monsters (including, though we don't know it yet, calculations for killing them - though we DO see him saying that humans are easy to kill because he knows all the physical weak points!)

The references throughout these two chapters, by Kabru and his party, to the interconnected socioeconomic dynamics of the island and dungeon - the corrupted system fails to check corpse retrievers, the Island Lord as an annoying but necessary bulwark against the Elves, the dungeon growing hungrier as fewer adventurers go down because there's less money and more risk - are so so so like Senshi and Laiois discussing the dungeon biome's ecosystem and food pyramid.

The whole vibe of the party re: their respective weirdo tallman leaders. We watched Team Laios develop this, recently crowned with Chilchuck's near-tearful argument to turn back for a rest, which means we can recognize it when we're dropped into it with Team Kabru: that "this guy is SUCH a goddamn weirdo, but I already followed him into some level of hell, so I'm obviously not turning back now." Kabru's party does think he's weird - "You remember so much about other people that it's creepy." "Why are you enjoying this?" But they're also pitching in on the speculation like Team Touden all hel cook monsters. Compare:

Also!! Something something predisposed beliefs and presumptions of others... This party is so eager to assume the worst of our party, even though our party objectively saved them from perma-death twice, once from ghosts and once from being eaten by fishmen. Chichuck is greedy and bossy, Senshi smells so...notably...that he's judged to be sketchy af... Kabru is trying his best with what info he has, he knows it's not enough to pass a judgement and he wants more, but it's very...uncomfortable? To see this sort of discussion of people we know are great, when we're so used to watching monsters be killed with exquisite understanding and respect.

...I'll chew on that angle of theme more later. Man, you know how, say, what makes the musical Hamilton so good is at its heart it's just like 5-10 leitmotifs that interweave to create every single song? Dungeon Meshi is like that. Hmm a Dungeon Meshical...

.

"Yeah, yeah, we've all heard your weekly lecture about how someone responsible and sociopolitically conscious needs to take the dungeon and the throne or everyone in this region is doomed. None of us can wait to see you flip off the Island Lord to his face. Eat your rations, buddy."

.

JUST THE CUTEST, INNOCENTEST, POLITEST, HELPFULEST (WITH NO ULTERIOR MOTIVATIONS WHATSOEVER) YOUNG MAN!! LOOK AT HIS BIG BLUE EYES AND EAGER LITTLE SMILE!

[3 seconds earlier:

I'm obsessed. In the spirit of this comic: I want to eat him with a spoon. I want to take small divots out of him and lick each one carefully off the spoon, luxuriously exploring and enjoying the complex texture and flavor. Like he's a really good pudding. And then I want to see if, if he and Laios kiss, do they both explode in antimatter.

[detectivereads]

Delicious in Dungeon vol 6 by Ryoko Kui

10/5

This post is for fan entertainment, I’m not being paid.

Dungeon Meshi Thursday!

Ok part 2 of the Red Dragon Arc, we need answers of what happen with Falin. I do have a lot to say about certain characters so this might be long.

I may rehash a rant that I had in Vol 5, just because it shows up a lot in here. I will get into it when it’s in full swing. But I also have some thoughts on what Laios did as well. I would like to apologize if I tend to go on a tangent about Shuro. This volume has a lot of drama.

Ok, Vol 6 it picks up where Laios’s group meets up with both Shuro’s group and Kabru group, after some friendly-ish banter between everyone, and getting a meal ready to eat.

I have issues with Maizuru, yes, I can see her as the brains of their group, however I don’t like how she comes off as superior towards Senshi. (I don’t like people being mean to Senshi. Senshi is a precious bean.)

With that aside, I did like Chilchuck in this volume, thinking which of the two people Laios and Senshi he needs to stick by in order to do damage control if they irritated someone of in the new groups, he picks Senshi. I can see with his enthusiastic nature towards dungeon cooking.

However, Chilchuck picked the wrong person to keep an eye on, because while that was happening Laios had given a play by play to Shuro on what happened, how Falin was brought back from the dead. Shuro freaks out, and when looking at the method of using old magic when it has been forbidden a non-magic person would freak out about.

I can see both sides.

Laios wanted his sister back and Marcille could do a spell that could bring her back. Now, Marcille knew what she was doing, and even said that the spell was nothing nefarious.

While Shuro being a non-magic user hearing this and obeying the law of black magic is outlawed, would immediately end relationships with Laios and Marcille.

This is the start of Laios being moved down in my favorite character tier. Laios was almost expecting Shuro not to tell anyone top side. Granted, I understand that Laios told Shuro out of respect towards the man.

Ok more drama happens with Chimera Falin entering the fight and totally whoops everyone, but at one point she retreats.

With a good chunk of the group dead, they bring back the magic users, but refuse to allow Marcille’s help fearing that she would cast black magic again.

Ok new rant time

Shuro had traveled with Marcille I want to say a for a while. Shuro should know Marcille by now she would cast powerful magic only when she needs it too. Marcille also probably could also read the room that everyone is on edge about the ancient magic she casted to bring Falin back.

I also understand since Shuro is not a magic user he and the other non-magic users have more of a reason to be a bit wary.

I am sorry, Shuro is one of my least favorites at this point when he does get into a fist fight with Laios. Shuro complains that Laios was unbearable to be around that he never takes the hints that Shuro wanted to be alone.

This is another thing that bothers me, again traveling with Laios and the rest of the group before the first red dragon fight. Shuro should have picked up that Laios to put it bluntly is not the brightest blub in the box.

My friend made a nice comparison, that when Chilchuck is getting annoyed with Laios he will tell Laios without beating around the bush. Laios then understands and backs off. Shuro doesn’t voice his issues with Laios. Some people may not pick up the hints that person A wants to be left alone, you have to be direct about.

Ok, rant over.

After the fight and some planning Shuro and Kabru’s group are going topside to tell the lord that there is a more powerful monster in the dungeon.

While Laios’s group is going to defeat the mad mage of the dungeon.

Laios group runs into some shapeshifters, that have taken on the form of the group. As the whole group agrees that Laios is Laios, they locked up the fake Laios and some very obvious fakes of the 3. Everyone agrees that Laios should be the one that figures out who is real and who is fake.

Now we meet a new character, a beast person named Izutsumi, ok I will tell you know I really didn’t like her when I first met them. She is demanding and she threatens the group if they don’t help Izutsumi, she will murder/hurt them.

Izutsumi wants Marcille to take the beast part of her curse off and keeps threating if they don’t help, she will kill them.

 Senshi being the generous soul that he is, makes her some risotto.

But Izutsumi is not really well versed in how to whole eating utensils, having issues holding a spoon but is still shoveling the food down quickly. I can overlook that no one is perfect, but Izutsumi doesn’t like mushrooms (Ok, I don’t care for mushrooms either.) But she lets them fall to the floor.

Senshi has the patience of a saint, but it looks like Senshi patience has run out (psyche! Senshi is a sweet bean) But then Izutsumi’s curse is activated and a Japanese looking ghost (I’m sorry the name of the ghost with a oni looking mask and craving knife escapes me at the moment.)

So, once again Senshi giving so wise wisdom and being a bad ass taking down the ghost/demon, why using utensils a certain way will maximize the usage.

However, Marcille breaks the news to Izutsumi, her curse is not going to come off. Which crushes Izutsumi. (Or Marcille is unfamiliar with the process of the removal, she also goes into detail about the different types of ancient magic. While she specializes in one type she doesn’t know this type.)

The last chapter, I got newfound of respect for Marcille.

Marcille is facing a nightmare and Laios goes into her dream and tries to help. Through his adventure, Laios understands the fear that Marcille faces being part elf.  I will leave it at that.

Ok I know I had some rants throughout this volume, but that doesn’t mean that I didn’t like it. I have my favorite characters (if it’s not obvious) while throughout the journey I get new respect for others or others are moved down on my favorites list.

[vitanithepure]

Can we talk about Gale again? And Mystra, one last time? Or at least let me vent? I know it seems like I can't shut up about it, but deal with me this one last time?

It's a long one, an fervent one, and possibly the last one on their relationship because there isn't much to tell for me after this. I just want to lay it to rest on my part, it's too emotionally draining, but I wanted to do this.

Spoilers for them ahead.

It was some time ago I did the talk with Mystra and Gale as an origin character and I needed some time to process this and gather my thoughts. Because I was left reeling with how personal it felt for me and I hated seeing that to bo honest, even though I think whoever did write this scene did it... very well. I feel a lot of thought went into it, so even though it does touch a delicate subject it does it as tastefully as possible.

Okay, let's begin with a real banger.

Why? This will forever read as "I gave you a solution, explain yourself why you didn't die when I asked you to." for me. What kind of messed up question is that to ask someone?

But can I say how there is absolutely no wrong anwser to that asinine question? You can roleplay however you wish, but none of them are bad anwsers. Some of them are more heartbreaking then the others, but none are in any way making excuses. There is nothing to excuse and I'm glad whoever wrote this dialogue recognized this.

I chose the "I have someone else to live for" one here, because I felt that Gale, at this point, really found that special someone, be it a friend or lover, to live for. It's gut-wrenching that he needed someone to keep him alive in the first place, but this is what having an abusive ex does to you.

But the other choices here? All of them fair. She absolutely had no right to ask that of him, no matter the crime, that's just a fucked up thing to expect.

Being afraid to die? Valid, this shouldn't be put up to question.

Two last ones? Pure gold. I treat the fourth one as a direct jab at her own teachings, on how all magic needs to be preserved and studied? It's like him saying "Hey, I did what you expected and now your mad?".

The very last one is poetic justice. "I owe you nothing." and if that were me this would be the absolute end of this discussion. Mic drop, I'm out of here.

And okay, I did take he self-pity route with "I let you down." here becuase this is what I believe is closest to how "canon" Gale feels about this. That's the most heartbreaking thing about it, that he believes he was not worth enough before and is even less now and doesn't deserve love, of any kind.

What are the other options? Well, all in character and each seems like a valid way for Gale to feel. But me, the player, who is fortunate to know some meta knowledge? Oh boy.

"I was a danger to you." No you weren't. She is the goddess of magic, one of the most powerful out here. She is magic. All you could do is make her day worse.

"I disobeyed you." Yeah, you did. And she sentenced you to a slow death for it.

"You were threatened." Eh, not really. But what comes after that statement? "You realised you couldn't control me."? Yes, that is the only thing she felt threatened about - loosing control.

"Our relationship bored you. The orb was just an excuse to end it." I mean... maybe? Not enough is known about it but seeing how all reincarnations of Mystra are fickle lovers at best I would say it's a possibility. Even if it is just his ego speaking here - damn, what a way to end a relationship.

She has the audacity to tell him "he only thought of himself". Pot calling the kettle much?

Oooh, but I love what we can say here. The amout of vicious call outs here is superb.

We get to call out how much of a control freak she is. Then we can say how out of place was her punishment. Because I feel like it was a fucking equivalent of throwing a child into a dark cellar for breaking your favorite cup, while all they wanted to do was wash it for you. That is how imbalanced this whole thing is and I'm not taking criticism on that.

We also get to straight up ask what was the lesson if she never let him know what he really did and left him without means to make things right?

Then my favorite. Straight up ask her how many lives was she willing to sacrifice to get rid of the problem?

And last but not least - call her out on her lies. That's what she did. Why? I don't know. Was she afraid? Possibly, because the Karsite Weave + Crown of Karsus combo could potentially threaten her. Potentially, because as we saw in one of the Gale endings, she has no problem with just getting rid of a newly ascended god wielding them. That leads me to believe she is not afraid of loosing power as much as just being rivaled with. The indignity she has to suffer, truly.

Hit a nail on the head here. Who cares about mortals, if they live or die and in how many droves? Competition comes knocking, so all gloves are off. And that is what I believe to be the crux of the matter. Mystra wants to remove the Absolute (because that's the new upstart god breaking the status quo), the orb containing he rival Weave, the Crown which threatens her rule over magic all in one swoop. Oh, and that one guy who tries too hard and refuses to die. No biggie. Who cares, she has a line of followers who would replace her Chosen at any given time.

I'm a salty bitch over the fact we can't keep the Crown of Karsus, but instead of using it - just hide it away again. Stablize Gale's Karsite Weave and keep that thing around, hidden away. Let her sweat over the idea someone else might find it one day and rival her rule.

I know I'm way too emotional about it, but like I said, it's very personal - I been there, done that, and never recovered in full after it. I'll die defending anyone and any pixels who are struggling with their self-worth and trying to get over an emotionally abusive relationships.

"Be the better person, die saving the world and I'll 'forgive' you." Fuck. You.

And a bonus, for those of you who stuck around till the end, because I was totally naming the screens and yelling at my monitor while doing this.

[magics-neptunes-things]

One Love (5)

Hi guys!

This is another part from my Luna's serie, One Love. It's from some request of some of them, please don't hesitate to ask me if you want something :)

(1) | (2) | (3) | (4) | (5) | (6) | (7) | (8)

______________________________________________________________

“Are you writing to Lucy again?!”

Laia’s voice makes Ona almost jump, not expecting her best friend to be as close as she is right now. In fact, she’s sitting in the armchair next to Ona.

“What the hell Laia” Ona grumbles, not answering her question.

Because of course she was. Can anyone blame her? When she’s at home, she has her girlfriend next to her almost every second of the day. Now they are apart for more than ten days and it feels like hell.

“Of course she is” Salma grins, sitting on the other side of Ona.

Ona rolls her eyes, answering to Lucy’s text anyway, making the two other girls smile at each other. They both love Ona, they are actually very fond of seeing her friend as happy as Ona seems to be.

“And you just see how much she is writing to her. You don’t have her looking at Lucy with her heart eyes all day” Salma add.

She’s still smirking, laughing when Ona raises on her a dirty glare.

“I don’t have heart eyes for her all day.”

“Don’t worry, I think it’s cute. I’m sure Lucy thinks the same thing.”

Ona hit Salma’s shoulder this time. She wanted to go for her head, but the striker change wisely her position to be as far as Ona as possible.

“Don’t be like that, Onita. You know that we are actually very happy for you.”

Ona rolls her eyes one more time, unable to hide her smile. She is happy, she even said it in one interview the other day. She doesn’t like to talk about her private life and she didn’t gave any indication about her love for Lucy, but she still said that she is happy. Ona knows that Lucy had read the interview.

“I am happy” Ona mumbles, laying on Laia shoulder while sticking out her thong to Salma.

The younger woman snorts at Ona.

“You never fight?” Laia asks with curiosity.

Ona shakes her head honestly. She knows that only a few people would believe her, after all Lucy and her have both a strong head. But they decided very soon in her relationship to favor discussions.

“That’s true” says Salma. “I’ve never heard one of them talking bad at the other.”

“We only had one fight to be honest.” Ona says thoughtfully.

“What was it about?”

********

Ona doesn’t know how this fight has started, to be honest. They were at the game this afternoon, they won and even if Lucy received a yellow card, it was a good game. After the fans’ meeting and the shower, they went home. Ona was hopping to eat some sushi, cuddle with her girlfriend and their dogs before falling asleep in front of a movie they will take forever to choose.

But it seems like everything went wrong. Lucy was kind of moody when they left the stadium and even if Ona asked her several times what was happening, she only had the answer “I’m fine.”. But Lucy wasn’t, she kept looking right in front of her while driving, not even looking one time at her girlfriend.

The small talk that Ona tried to make wasn’t working either. She just putted some music on and kept looking by the window. Unlike she usually did, Lucy doesn’t open her the car door and even if Ona was saying at first that she can do it herself, she started liking when Lucy does it.

When Lucy plops on her sofa without looking at her, scrolling on her phone with a tightened jaw, it was too much for Ona. She hates fighting, she always tries to find a way to make things better for everyone without having a beef. But right now, it’s too much.

“Lucy?”

No answer.

“Lucy!”

Still no answer. And Ona takes a big breath before walking in her direction to snatch her phone from her hand.

“Can you at least answer me?!”

“Give me my phone back.”

Lucy’s tone is cold, and Ona hates it. But she stands her ground, hiding the phone behind her back. Of course, she knew that Lucy would get mad. But a least she maybe will tell her what the hell is happening.

“No. Talk to me, what’s happening?”

“Nothing Ona, for God’s sake! Give me my phone back!”

The English woman raise her voice and Ona flinch while the dogs hurry to leave the living room. Lucy doesn’t mean to snap at her girlfriend who only seems to want to make things better. But she’s stubborn, hate to talk about her feelings and she’s tired. And mad, but Ona still doesn’t know why.

“Stop acting like a moody teenager Lucy, talk to me please.”

But Lucy thought that it was too late. The fight has already started, Ona is already pissed and herself is already boiling inside. So, she gets up from the couch, passing next to her girlfriend to go to the kitchen.

“You know what? Go to hell.” she mumbles.

In a typical teenage fashion. Feeling that her composure is starting to break, Ona closes her eyes for some seconds and takes a big, silenced breath.

“I don’t understand what is happening, Luce.”

“Why don’t you go ask your best friend? Or is she already gone back to San Sebastian?”

The answer came but it’s nothing that Ona was thinking about. She needs some more seconds, but this time it was to figure out what it was about.

“What the hell are you talking about?”

Her best friend is Laia Aleixandri who is definitively at Manchester right now. So, there is no way that Lucy is talking about her and why the hell would Laia makes in their relationship problems? Her and Lucy went along great.

“Oh please.” Lucy is in the kitchen, looking at her through the opening of the door and she raises her voice again. “Don’t tell me it was nothing, I saw the way you hug each other. Everyone else saw it.”

Ona is so surprised that she wants to laugh. Thanks god, her rational part tells her that it’s maybe not the right thing to do.

“She’s a friend. We played together at la Misa when we were younger.”

Lucy snorts and answer something like “Yeah sure” and that makes Ona gone mad too. She knows that her girlfriend is mad, but her cockiness starts to get on her nerves. Especially when the English woman doesn’t make any move to try to make things better between them.

It was this time Ona’s turn to shout.

“Who do you think I am exactly? It was a damn hug Lucy, not a making out session!”

Lucy bites her tongue hard to not answer at that. She knows that otherwise; she will answer things that she doesn’t think and that she will hurt Ona. And even if she’s mad about that girl, the yellow card and almost everything, she doesn’t want to hurt the younger girl.

But Lucy’s silence wasn’t helping, and Ona assumes what everyone would assume.

“Glad to learn how you think about me.”

She was cold too, now hurt. She feels her tears coming and there is no way that Lucy sees her like this. Ona hates being angry because she always ends crying and losing all her credits. So she goes to the bathroom, slamming the door for good measure.

“Shit” sights Lucy, pinching her nose.

********

During the next hour, there is almost no sound in the flat. Ona stayed in the bathroom and then in the bedroom. She regrets her choice, because everything smells like Lucy and remember her their fight. This is their first real fight, they had misunderstood or disagreements, but never that way.

She cried a little (a lot) and after that she used some cold water to make her face a little less red and puffy. After that she was hopping to be able to have some cuddles with her dog, but Coco is nowhere to be found. She frowns when she calls him one time and a second without him coming running like crazy.

She hesitates to go find him, but after twenty minutes, she stands slowly from the bed. When she’s lying on it, he will run to her to cuddle with her. They make the dogs sleep in the living room so every second stolen with one of them on the bed is precious to him.

“Coco?” she calls again at the door of the room.

She waits and listen to any sound indicating the dog’s arrival, but still nothing. At first Ona thinks that he might be angry at her too and she almost cry again. But she thinks better and goes discreetly to the living room. She perks in the room carefully, not wanting for Lucy to see her. Narla is curling against her Mama’s tight, but there is no sight of Coco.

So she goes to the bathroom, to the entry, to the guest room and the kitchen. But still no Coco. And Ona starts to get really worried. Her last chance is the balcony, but she has to cross the living room to go to it. Sighing, she decided to ignore Lucy’s presence, still very mad at her. And hurt, too maybe. Anyway, she really doesn’t want to talk to her right now.

She feels Lucy gaze following her when she crosses the room but doesn’t look at her. Coco isn’t on the balcony and Ona isn’t far for a break down. She sniffs while closing the balcony’s door and that’s what alert Lucy.

“What are you looking for?”

Lucy’s voice returned to her normal tone and Ona takes a shacky breath before answering.

“I can’t find Coco” she mumbles without looking at her.

“What do you mean you can’t find Coco?” Lucy frowns.

“I can’t find Coco Lucy, what don’t you understand?” she shouts, losing it and turning to Lucy. “What do you want me to say? I enjoy touching other women in public and I’m not even able to take care the dog you offered me.”

Lucy has never seen Ona like this. Her red and puffy eyes are full of tears, some of them running freely on her cheeks. She’s shouting again, and Lucy feels her heart crack. She stands from the couch, Narla looking at them from it.

Coco is a gift from Lucy to Ona, that’s right. She gave him to Ona for their ten month’s anniversary  but it was honestly only a pretext. Ona had always told her how much she missed the dog she had when she was younger and that she never took another one because she wasn’t at home enough. And at Manchester it wouldn’t have made any sense because she was looking to come back to Barcelona soon.

“He can’t be far away.” she says, making Ona shrugs.

Lucy’s voice is soft now, she fully regrets the fight they had sooner, her behavior and the way she talked to Ona. She doesn’t know how the Spaniard would react to a physical touch from her, but she decides to try anyway. Fingers crossed, she softly takes Ona by the hand before taking her against her to hug her. She breaths again when Ona immediately cuddles against her, hiding her face in her neck.

“Come on. I’ll help you to look at him ok?”

The younger girl nod and follows Lucy in the same rooms that she was before. They finish by the bedroom, but Lucy has to admit that the dog isn’t here too.

“I’ll go take the biscuits” Ona mumbles.

Coco’s weakness. If the dog is in the flat, he will come running. Lucy sighs and sits on the bed, looking at the tissues Ona used to dry her tears with culpability. That’s when she hears a little sound, coming from under the bed. Frowning, she gets up from it to lay down on the floor and looking under the bed. She’s now facing Coco eyes, looking at her.

“Ona? He’s here”

Two seconds later, Ona is in the bedroom with the biscuits’ packet in her hand. With precaution she makes Coco get out from under the bed, before hugging him tight in her arms, her nose in his hairs.

“Why where you hiding here?” she whispers while to dog is licking at her hands.

He licks her face too, making her grimacing. Ona hates when he does it, but he loves it. Lucy can only smile in front of Ona’s face and the way Coco looks at the biscuits with interest. Ona gives him one and Coco takes it before leaving for the living room, leaving the two women alone.

Ona’s small smile fades and she gets up to follow her dog, but Lucy catches her hand before.

“Ona, wait please” the English woman says. “I’m sorry. I know you wouldn’t do anything to hurt me. I was jealous, and stupid and I wasn’t thinking straight. Can you please forgive me?”

Ona rubs her eyes before sighing softy. She’s exhausted to be honest, there was a little too many emotions to deal with for only one night.

“Why in the world would I go for someone else in front of you?”

“I was jealous Ona, that’s all. It was stupid of myself. I’m really sorry.”

“But I don’t understand. We are together almost every second of the day and you know that it’s a torture when we are apart. Why are you jealous? I’m yours, no one else.”

Lucy sighs and sits on the bed, not really fond of the idea of having this discussion now, but she can’t escape it. Not when she had that kind of behavior, not answering wouldn’t be fair to Ona.

“I don’t know. She has your age, doesn’t have constant surgery to fix her knee and she will be playing as long as you. The life we have now won’t last forever, but it would be longer if I was younger.”

Frowning, Ona sits on the bed next to Lucy.

“I know it won’t last forever, but we will have other things to live together after that. I don’t care about your age Lucy, I never had. And I never will. I fell in love with Lucia, not Lucy Bronze the amazing football player.”

Lucy rolls her eyes with a smirk, but Ona’s answer is good to hear. Ona could literally have any other girl if she wanted to, it sometimes doesn’t make sense for the English woman that she chooses to stay with her.

“You didn’t answer me before…”

“About what?” Ona asks, tilting her head.

“Can you forgive me?”

She’s biting her bottom lip, looking at Ona with her eyes full of sincerity and somehow a little of fear? Ona isn’t sure but she only needs to look at her girlfriend for some seconds before answering.

“I forgive you. But you have to talk to me when something isn’t right, Love. I don’t want to fight like this again.”

“I promise” Lucy answers, reaching for her girlfriend.

Ona lean in and Lucy envelops her immediately with her arm. Closing her eyes, she breaths Ona’s sent before hiding her face in the younger one’s hair.

“I’m sorry I made you cry” Lucy mumble against Ona’s hair.

Ona hums softly, before looking up at her.

“Kiss me better?”

Lucy laughs, not regretting slightly having learned this expression to Ona in the beginning of their relationship. Ona knows when using it very well. The dark-haired woman kiss Ona’s lips softly several times, keeping her tight against her. She kisses her face soon after, very part of it, punctuating her kisses with “I love you”.

Some minutes after, she has a giggling Ona in her arms, and she feels her heart melt. Ona is her miracle, coming in her life when she felt like everything was falling apart. Ona flipped her world upside down, but everything makes sense since Her. She can’t lose her.

********

“Even your fights are cute. I’ve never felt so single in my life” Salma sighs, making the two others girl laughs.

A notification from her phone makes Ona’s hand vibrate and the Catalan girl looks at it. It’s a notification from Instagram, Lucy apparently just posted a picture.

“Holy fuck” Ona mumbles while looking at it.

Lucy, looking straight to the camera, her hair down and arm in full display. She knows very well what she’s doing, Ona mentioning yesterday night during their phone call how she’s still destabilized sometimes when Lucy looks at her so intensely. Without thinking, she likes the pictures and received a teasing text from Lucy almost right after.

“Such a tease” Ona mumbles to herself, before looking at her friends again. “Can I have your opinion about something?”

********

Lucy is taking her breakfast, like almost always with her headphones and her music on. Some girls say she is asocial, but she needs that to be in a good shape for the rest of the day. She was sipping at her coffee when she received a notification from Ona.

And she spits her coffee.

“What the hell mate?”

She raises her face on Lauren James in front of her, without answering anything and looks back at her phone. She doesn’t hear LJ groans something about being aggressive soon in the morning, only focused on Ona’s message. Or picture, she just sent her.

A mirror selfie isn’t something rare for Ona, but a mirror selfie with almost nothing on her, it’s like a first.

From Lucy What the hell You’re killing me

From Ona Just thought it would be fair to thanks you for you picture yesterday. Too bad it wasn’t only for me though.

Lucy answered something after that, but she doesn’t take her chance to answer her for now. It’s hard to say which one of the two really started this war, but it has been a ping pong of photos and video, by messages or Instagram sometimes. The fans don’t seem to understand what was really happening, but Lucy and Ona did. And they can say that they have fun.

Several days later, Lucy is waiting for Ona in their house. They came back from the camp, Lucy being earlier even if she was literally in another country. They have to take back their dogs from Ona’s parents, but they will go tomorrow. Right now, honestly, Lucy doesn’t want anything but cuddle with her girlfriend.

Ona arrives at the end of the afternoon, looking a little tired but the smile she puts on her face when she spots Lucy waiting for her in the entrance is beautiful. She lets her bags fall on the floor, raise her hand to put them around Lucy’s neck when she comes for her and let her hugs her. And make her levitate a little, making her giggle.

“I missed your laugh” Lucy smile against her neck, hugging her even harder. “I really missed you.”

“I missed you too” Ona mumble back.

Then Lucy puts her back on the ground and kisses her right on the lips, several time, before Ona tightens her hold around her neck to keep her against her. Lucy smiles against her lips but let her, letting herself enjoying their reunion.

“It’s great to have you in front of me for real and not in a teasing picture” Lucy smirks, some minutes later, when they are cuddling on their sofa.

“It was your fault. You started it” Ona rolls her eyes.

“Me?! I haven’t done anything! You started with your almost naked picture.”

Ona snorts and raise her eyebrow, making Lucy laughs slightly. But she doesn’t want to abdicate so soon, so she shrugs.

“What?”

“I know what. You posted that amazing picture of yourself the day before that.”

“It was just a casual picture. Not my fault if you fancy me as much.”

The sassy comment makes Ona try to hit her, but Lucy is faster and grabs her hands. With it, she takes Ona closer to her, smirking again.

“I love that you fancy me, though.”

She tries to kiss her, but Ona turns her face to make her lips kiss her cheeks instead.

“Ona” Lucy frowns.

But it was Ona’s turn to be sassy, turning her head at the last moment when Lucy try to kiss her again and again.

“Come on, just kiss me” she whines at her fourth attempt.

“Who’s the one fancying the other now?” Ona smirks.

Lucy sighs excessively, knowing that she won’t have the last word this time. Rolling her eyes, she pouts while talking.

“Ok I fancy you too. And maybe I posted this picture to tease you. May I have my kiss now?”

“Yes, you can.”

Ona laughs, making Lucy smiles, before she leans in to kiss her. Lucy is right, after all the teasing and the being away thing, being together again is the best feeling ever.

[wesleysniperking]

Usopp Rant 😡 TL:DR

It pains me…

“If Usopp doesn’t do anything in Elbaf, I’m giving up on him. I love Usopp. I do. But if he’s useless in Elbaf, I’m letting him go.”

Or better yet…

“Even if Oda were to throw Usopp a bone, it won’t make up for 10 years of uselessness.”

Heck, this takes the cake…

“When Usopp told Nami to lie that’s when I lost all respect for him. The crew should have left his lowsy a** back in Water 7. He became what he was so afraid of.”

Nah. I was wrong…

“If Van Augur loses to this useless bum, it’ll ruin all of One Piece for me. It’ll be a major a** pull.”

Regardless of wherever and whatever direction Oda goes in with Usopp, I’ll always stand behind Usopp. No doubt about it. It honestly gets my goat when people in snark threads or even official One Piece pages (*cough cough* Reddit, YouTube, Worstgen) continue to criticize Usopp for small things, like they just really want him to lose (nitpick the h*ll outta him). Like, no kidding. But there’s one thing that really bugged me about Wano….

And what that was—was in a famous scene when Nami’s about to get annihilated by Ulti, and Ulti tries to force Nami into denouncing Luffy’s dream, and Nami remains firm by opposing the villainess…and Usopp wants Nami to lie and say Luffy will not become pirate king. He thinks this and urges for this to happen. For her to do so.

Now, I do honestly understand why he said that, and why he did it. If people had good reading comprehension and knew how to pick up on context clues this wouldn’t have to be brought up in anything regarding “Usopp’s bum-a**”.

Point blank, Usopp didn’t want Nami to die.

Lying means nothing to him. They both know Luffy is going to become Pirate King. They’ve seen their captain make the impossible happen!

Ergo, my main gripe is that it seems what Oda did is that he had to paint Usopp in a bad light in order for another character to look good. Nami is awesome. Kudos to her for staying head-strong. But in the same breath I stand by Usopp’s actions and see nothing wrong in them. Luffy wouldn’t look at Usopp badly if he found out what he did, because as the strawhat himself said, there’s no such thing as playing fair in a pirate fight (I may have paraphrased this), and what’s important is Nami making it out alive.

A dead navigator? How else are they getting to Laughtale. F*ck winning the raid/battle when the Strawhats are down a member. It was already looking rough with Luffy…

So, the misconception that Luffy would be mad at Usopp for saying that to Nami is illogical. Besides, how can Usopp force his ideals onto others? Yes, if he’d been in Nami’s same exact situation, he would’ve done what she did. But the point in that scene FOR HIM was about wanting to protect a friend. He loves Luffy, and has already defended his dream (e.g. Arabasta). The first one to do so! But for Usopp, what’s important in that moment is Nami making it out alive. He CAN’T watch a friend die. He can’t watch a friend die in the hands of some b*tch with a power trip; trying to force Nami’s hand. And sure, Nami remained head strong, and she did the d@mn thing. But when other people and fans decide to commend Nami for that moment while also putting Usopp down, things get really ugly for me. Nami fans and Usopp fans should be allies. But it doesn’t happen because they praise Nami and kick Usopp down to the ground.

No, this doesn’t go for EVERY Nami fan, and I’m not saying Usopp fans aren’t guilty of this.

So, I don’t criticize Usopp for his actions. Nor do I criticize Nami for her actions. What I’m trying to come to terms with is how it seems like it’s the whole classic case of painting one character in a very bad light in order to paint another character in a very good light.

Very SEEMINGLY so, Usopp regresses (no he did not regress!), and Nami progresses (cheers! 🥳😕…haters ruin it).

It’s a bit disheartening to have to defend Usopp over such pettiness. But I’ll continue to trust in the process. It just seems like Usopp fans are running on switchblade faith. And sometimes that faith isn’t enough.

But there’s indeed a beauty in the whole concept of retrospect, and at this point, it really does appear that in the overall One Piece narrative, in the overall grand scheme of things, Usopp is the true underdog.

And if people are so certain that Usopp doesn’t a stand a chance against Van Augur then why even entertain the idea? People always maintain (and it STRONGLY appears) that outside of Luffy vs Blackbeard, Usopp vs Van Augur is the most anticipated duel in the Blackbeard Pirates vs Strawhats battle.

Again, why even insult Usopp, if y’all are associating this “sniper with the ice cold drip” with “bum Usopp”? And if Usopp winning would be such an a**pull, will that keep y’all from watching? Will y’all not stop and look? Y’all low key have some big expectations for Usopp (who y’all consider fodder).

The fight might not even happen, yet haters are still looking forward to it. The speculation is strong with this one.

I honestly don’t understand it when people say Usopp is holding the crew back. How??? If that was the case Usopp would be given more focus. The camera would stay on him a little longer.

It’s like Usopp can never win.

Like this BS…

“Yeah, but Luffy and Law wouldn’t have been turned into toys because Haki can counteract DF powers. So, they would’ve been able to successfully mitigate the situation without Usopp’s help.”

Why???

“No. Usopp is still useless. Perona could’ve been defeated by Robin if she were there. Strawhats can make it without Bum Usopp.”

But in all seriousness, I think most of the hate is honestly just bitterness and impatience. And overall, misguided expectations. But people just don’t know how to articulate stuff proficiently in a debate (the comment section) without hate.

If you’re going to like a character, you have to know what you’re getting yourself into. And if you don’t want to do the research, then just pick up on the fine details and know what you want (know who you are). Usopp has flaws, but to just straight up say “I wish he could f*ckin die” and some other hot mess? No dice! If you don’t like him, move on. If you like him, but can’t love him at his “lowest” then get to steppin’.

There are a lot of bitter fans who’ve been unimpressed with Usopp post time skip. But there are even some far more bitter enough to the point to say that whatever he accomplished pre-timeskip was his peak, and that the whole fight with Perona was Oda “just throwing him a bone”. Some aren’t even satisfied with Enies Lobby Usopp, because he didn’t get a decent 1 v 1. “He should’ve had Sanji’s fight”. Typical shonen fan, I guess.

Yet, this bitterness also stems from the upset of Water 7’s narrative working in favor of Luffy instead of Usopp (apparently Longnose was the bad guy here 😒).

Ugh…The Sniper King joke isn’t fun anymore…

“Yeah. I truly just separate Sniper King and Usopp now. Meme aside. They really are separate people, and Usopp is just a bum.” [Proceeds to show panel of when Usopp was on the ground, heavily injured after the Franky family “dealt with him”. And the crew found him. And other racial slurs follow…]

Final + Conclusion

Usopp is still my favorite One Piece character (unconditionally), and I hope he’s given the justice he deserves. I love Sniper King, but I don’t want him to comeback because of the haters.

Usopp needs to get the last laugh.

His fans deserve the last laugh.

We will get the last laugh.

Just wait and see, he’ll come in clutch again.

[lily-fics-11]

Je Vous Aime (Robin Buckley, Stranger Things)

Je Vous Aime//Robin Buckley, Stranger Things

I haven't written about my pookie Robin in so long so I had to fix that

You say goodbye to Robin after school and put on your headphones. You walk out to the bike rack together every day. Before you play the music on your Walkman you hear Robin whisper “Je vous aime.”

“What does that mean?” you question, wondering why she was speaking to you in what you think is French. She knows you don’t speak it, that you have always taken Spanish. 

Robin’s freckled cheeks flush instantaneously. “I thought you were listening to music.”

“Not yet. Was that French? What does ‘je voo em’ mean?” You interrogate her, trying to get to the bottom of this strange interaction.

She breaks eye contact to stare down at her converse. “It means… see you later. So uh, see you later, I gotta go.” She doesn't even look back at you before leaving on her bike, she just takes off.

Robin always looks at you, her stone blue eyes staring deeply into yours. The only time she doesn’t is when she lies. “I can stay late, my parents won’t mind. I finished that essay too, so I can hang out tonight. Steve is probably running late, I can stay for another few minutes.”

Back home you pour over your homework without making much progress. 

Why would Robin say something to you that she knew you couldn’t understand?

When she didn’t think you could hear her? 

Why the hell would she lie about it? 

Did you upset her? 

Is she sad? Mad? 

Clearly you had done something wrong. Robin is far from confrontational and avoids problems until they go away. Even though conflict between you two is rare, you are tired of her dealing with it this way. She isn’t going to just let things go this time, it’s not fair to either of you. 

You check the time and the library closes in a half hour. If you ride your bike fast enough you will have enough time to get there and find a French dictionary to borrow. 

Upon arriving at the library you are tired, sweating, and red in the face from racing there against the clock. You ask the librarian where to find what you need, quickly locate, and check it out.

You can’t wait until you get home to figure this out, so you sit in the grass outside the library and start searching through the book.

The first word was definitely “je”. Flipping through the dictionary you find out that it means “I”. I what? I want you to leave me alone?

“Voo” came after “je”. Unfortunately, you discover that “voo” itself is not, in fact, a word. It isn’t spelled the way it sounds, so you move on to words that have “vo” at the beginning. The word that sticks out is “vous”, for which the English translation is “you”. 

There is the ABBA song called Voulez-Vous, which is “do you want”, if you aren’t mistaken. You must be on the right track then. “I” and “you”. I hate you?

Turns out that “to hate” is “détester”, and not the word she said. That’s a relief, but you are still desperate for an answer. But “em” isn’t even a word and neither is “im”. 

You don’t actually know how vowels are pronounced in French. How they are pronounced in English is different from Spanish, so French is probably the same way. Pronunciation basics is naturally the next section you look at. You discover that different vowel combinations were definitely the right direction to go in. “Ai” could kind of sound like the “e” in “em”. So “aim” or “aime” is probably the right word.

You can’t believe your eyes when you read the translation of “aime”. 

Love?

Love.

I love you? Your friendship with Robin could certainly be categorized as very close, but not in an “I love you” way. 

You would never say it to her, that’s for sure. 

Not because you don’t love her, but because you don’t love her like a friend. 

You are in love with Robin. 

You would without a doubt say it back if she were to say it directly to you, even if you meant it in a different way. 

Why wouldn’t she just say it? Is she worried you don’t feel the same way? Now that you are actually thinking about it you do have a tendency to distance yourself at times, and avoid physical affection when it comes to Robin. In your defense you only do it to avoid letting yourself live an impossible fantasy. 

Robin Buckley is a girl. 

Robin Buckley doesn’t love you the way that you love her. 

However, to anyone with a single notion of your same sex attraction, your feelings for Robin would be crystal clear, like her pretty blue eyes. Your eyes can find her in the most crowded room and from just about any distance. And once you spot her? You can’t bear to look away. Why would you pass up an opportunity to admire such a physically and mentally appealing girl?

You would drop just about anything for Robin. If she calls, you are there. Family dinner, studying, the best book or movie, doesn’t matter. Robin is always a top priority. As long as you are in a good place to give her your best you will absolutely give it to her. 

You wear her favorite color whenever you can, you seek it out when you go shopping. If she mentions a book or movie you completely engross yourself in it until you can discuss it with her at great length. You even spend extra time studying Spanish so that you can carry conversations with her. Robin is extraordinary, she speaks English, French, Spanish, and Italian. 

There is no obvious reason why she would do this, and you have no intention of waiting for an answer to this unshakeable question. 

You shove the book into the woven basket on your bike and take off at a steady pace in the direction of Robin’s house. You don’t want to look like a mess when you get there. You can feel frustration building up inside you. Why does she have to be so avoidant, why can’t she just say what she is feeling? 

You knock on the door and Robin is the one to answer it. She looks excited to see you until she realizes how upset you are. 

“Is everything ok? Is something wrong? Did I do something?” Robin panics and then groans “fuck, I did do something, didn’t I,” when your expression doesn’t soften. 

“Well yeah, you kind of did,” you sigh with a twinge of guilt, realizing how much you are stressing her out.

Robin starts fidgeting with the chunky silver rings on her fingers. “I’m not always the best at, you know, the social cues, so I’m so sorry to ask this because it makes me feel like a jerk, but what did I do?”

Robin Buckley really can’t read a room, can she. Remembering this only creates more remorse for acting on your emotions instead of taking your time to find the best approach. 

“What you said after school today,” you explain. “‘Je vous aime’.”

“I hate to ask another stupid question,” Robin says while making deep eye contact before looking away and asking "but what’s wrong with ‘see you later’?”

“Robin, have you forgotten how well I know you? I can tell when you are lying. I went to the library and found a French dictionary, so I know what you actually said. ‘I love you’? Why wouldn’t you just say it? We are friends, aren’t we? Have I made you uncomfortable or upset? I’m sorry if I have made you feel that way. But if I did, why wouldn’t you come to me about it? You deserve to feel heard.”

“We are friends.” Robin mumbles. 

You run a hand through your hair in exasperation. “Then what the hell is going on?”

“I just didn’t want to make things weird.” She bites her chapped lips. 

“Rob, we are friends, I want you to feel safe to talk to me. I would never judge you.” 

Robin sits down on the ground like she is trying to get away from you, without actually going anywhere. “That’s the thing. You wouldn’t judge a friend who says I love you. But you might not feel the same way when someone means it as more than friendly. Especially when you are both girls. It’s not fair of me to lie to you and I really should be honest so you can just kick me out of your life for being the weird girl that’s in love with her friend. So je vous aime, I love you. Like in love with you. And you never have to speak to me again if you don’t….”

You had sat down next to Robin while she was talking and now you cut her off. “You are so oblivious, and to be quite honest, I'm offended.”

“Fuck!” Robin groans before covering her face with her hands. “I know you probably think it’s gross, and you hate me, and…”

You pull her hands away from her face. They had been covering her sad puppy dog expression. “Shhhhhh Robin,” you try to soothe her before putting an arm around her shoulders. “It’s not gross. It’s the opposite of gross. You are like gold, you know. Precious, but dense. I’ve always been in love with you. I try not to make it obvious but I still feel like it is.”

“Y-you?” She stutters, her voice sounding afraid, though her eyes are starry and filled with wonder. “In love with me?”

“Je vous aime, Robin.”