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lamentationsofalonelypotato · 3 months

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You Call It Madness But I Call It Love

Chapter 19: I Know Who You Are

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

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

Word Count: 14.5K (It's a behemoth and oh my stars I didn't mean to do this)

Warnings: Angst, Cursing, Angst, Drinking, ANGST, Sexual References, Talks of Pregnancy/Abortion, Some steaminess (barely), Family Problems, Self-deprecating thoughts, Awkward Situation, Soldier Boy might be, is, really, absolutely, completely a little OOC. Soldier Boy is really all you need as a warning.

Note: This is told from the Reader's perspective. Any references to the reader is made using you or your. There is minimal use of y/n. I tried my best to proofread, but nobody's perfect. Reader is described as "curvy" occasionally. If you don’t like, don’t read, but if you do like, you’re my favorite!

Internal Monologue is in first person and is in italics

Series Masterlist

Masterlist

A/N: Not going to lie, this one is ANGSTY and it's dramatic... ENJOY!

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Soldier Boy POV

Ben couldn't move, couldn't breathe. The words you'd said still hovered between the two of you like an anchor sinking from a ship and lodging itself in his heart to tug him under. At first he thought that he'd imagined you saying it, that he was still reeling from using his newfound powers, but the ringing in his ears was not a side effect of that.

It had been exactly 37 seconds since you said it, and in those 37 seconds Ben couldn't do anything but stare into your beautiful wide eyes and try to remember how to breathe. The look on your face was identical to the first time you told him you loved him, hands gently cupping his cheeks and making him feel like the boy who used to climb up the tree outside your window just to glimpse your smile.

But now what you said was different. What you said didn't bring warmth, it brought destruction, it broke through everything he was.

As soon as you said it a wave of shock crashed over him, followed by another more powerful wave of guilt. It wasn't guilt for getting you pregnant or guilt because the two of you weren't careful. Ben was not upset about that. He would have loved to see you pregnant, see you glow as you wore those cute overalls and prepared for a child that he gave you. To see you smile at him every day and let him make love to you, show you how excited he was to share this with you. Show you how you were the only person he wanted a family with, the only person he ever wanted to be bound to. He had wanted to give that to you and that wasn't a lie. When you first spoke those words to him so long ago about wanting to have a family, wanting to have someone to come home to, someone who loved you, Ben had wanted to be the one to give you those things.

He would have done anything to make you happy, still would. But now he was upset with himself. Guilty that he wasn't there for you when you needed him the most, guilty that he allowed himself to stay away as long as he had, and guilty that he hadn't fought harder to get back to you.

He imagined those years without him raising a child on your own, the sleepless nights you must have had, the way you must have never had a moment of quiet-.

Ben felt himself sinking deeper and deeper into despair when he thought of the years you must have spent alone raising his child, loving his child even though he threw you away.

She loves me that much? How can I ever deserve her?

Ben still didn't breathe, noting the way Legend, Butcher, and Hughie have fallen silent where they stand behind the two of you. Even Legend had stopped smoking his blunt, something that Ben wished he could take a hit from.

I'm a dad and I-

Ben's memories of his own father came up like the rising tide, the shit his father said to him, the way his father pushed him away, the way his father was never there when he needed him to be and the way that his father always made him feel like he wasn't enough, just as your mother made you feel.

Even after all this time, I did become him, I abandoned her and then I abandoned my kid. I wasn't there when they needed me the most, I am a fuck up I- Ben swallows, the overwhelming thoughts dragging him further and further beneath the waves. How could she still want me? How can she say that I've never disappointed her when I did this?

You drop your hands from his cheeks and he misses the warmth they brought, but worse is the look in your eyes. You look scared. It was the same look you'd had on your face this morning when he woke up with you in his arms.

Ben hated that, because he knew why. He knew that you were scared to tell him this because you thought he would leave you again, that you still didn't completely believe that he was never going to leave you again, and it broke something deep inside of him that he tried to hide away for decades. He wished that he had never done those things to you, wished that he had earned back your trust already, wished that you would let him make love to you to show you how much you meant to him, but deep down he knew that he was willing to wait for you even if it took the rest of his life, he would make you trust him again.

At least she's touching me and looking me in the eye now.

But he knew that he still had a long way to go.

“Right.” Butcher clears his throat awkwardly. “Don’t forget to fill up the tank.” He tosses his keys towards you and you catch them in your hand while Ben continues to stand there.

Honestly he still wasn't sure what to say. He was stuck somewhere between guilt and shock and he wasn't sure how to make his body move. Pretty soon he would die from asphyxiation. He hadn’t taken a breath since you said it.

Butcher, Legend, and Hughie walk into the house behind them each wearing a bewildered expression. Ben had been to Legend's summer house many times in the past. He had memories of orgies and parties that went on for days, both of which you never went to, and Ben always ended up at your apartment trying to sleep it off while you sketched quietly beside him. He still couldn't understand that, how you were able to sit there with him and act like your heart wasn't breaking each time he did that.

The silence grows between you and Ben can't find the words to fill it, because he has no idea what to say, no idea how you can look at him when he did this to you, when he got you pregnant and then abandoned you like you didn't matter.

"Look I-" You stammer, looking down at the ground for a minute to take a breath before you raise your eyes to look at him. "I didn't want to tell you like this, but I can't leave her. We have the same last name and the first thing Homelander's going to do is make that connection. I mean, Legend and I made up the story about Indigo being my mom, but Rosemary she-"

Ben's entire body explodes again with emotion and shock as you utter the name Rosemary. He hadn't heard it in over eighty years, the last time was at his mother's funeral. The day that you crossed the gravesite, pulling away from your family, swaddled in another ridiculous dress that your mother picked out, and took his hand, refusing to let it go. You were always there for him.

And then I wasn't fucking there for her.

“I just can’t leave her, not with him.” You whisper, glancing up into Ben's impassive face but he can't say anything.

How can I when she named our daughter after my mother?

“I know it’s a lot to take in. I tried to tell you this morning, but then Butcher walked in and I didn’t want to do this in front of him and- and-“ You were babbling now, a nervous habit that Ben hadn't seen you do in ages, but was now rearing its ugly head all over again. “And you don’t have to come with me-“

You were mistaking his silence for fear, mistaking his silence as him pulling away all over again. He could see it in your eyes and hear it in your voice as it trembled.

“Rosemary.” Ben whispers, your daughter's name, his daughter's name, interrupting you. He barely breathes it, so low that he's not sure you heard him, saying the name with a reverence that he'd never used before. It was the first thing he'd said since you told him that he was a dad.

“Yes?" You look confused.

“You named her after my mom?” Ben’s eyes catch yours, deep green and open. He could feel his own heart flutter when he asked you that, heating in his chest so hot that he thinks it might melt out of it, through the bones and sinew. If that happened he would catch it and give it to you as if you already didn’t have it.

Ben can hear your heartbeat stutter when he asks you that. It was surprising, surprising that after everything that happened you still did that for him, did that to remember him.

He watches the end of your lips twitch in a smile.

“Yeah. You loved your mom. And did you think I was going to name her after my mom? Really?” You smile faintly at him with the joke.

Ben almost smiles at the thought. There wasn't any way that you wanted to remember your mother. Hell, all Ben wanted was to help you forget her, to undo the damage that she'd done to you all those years ago, because he saw how her influence still weighed on you, how everything that happened in the past still sat on your shoulders.

And he wanted to relieve that.

“I did try to tell you.” You repeat, but your smile drops. “Honestly I also want to stop and get some clothes from my apartment so I’m not covered in blood or rubble when I see her. It's going to be hard to explain all of this to her.”

Ben drags his eyes down your outfit again. Although this morning all he wanted was to rip it off you and study your curves with his hands, the outfit looked weathered. There was a prominent hole through the jacket and shirt, just under your left breast that Ben couldn't look away from. He knew what it meant. It was from you pushing him out of the way of Homelander. He could still feel the anger prickling beneath his skin when you again did the thing that he told you not to do. You were just so stubborn sometimes and never wanted to listen to him. Ben didn't give a single fuck that Homelander had punched him and practically choked him, the only thing he cared about was that Homelander had killed you. There were many things that Ben fantasized about doing to Homelander when he had killed you, many he wished that he had been able to accomplish before Homelander tucked his tail and flew away like a little pussy.

He cannot be what passes for a hero these days.

Then again another side of him was incredibly turned on when you faced Homelander. He'd never admit that to you, but there was something sexy about the way you threw Homelander around like he was nothing. It had taken an extreme amount of effort for Ben not to kiss you after Homelander flew away, to take you back into the ruined house and show you just how much he liked your outfit and how much he enjoyed watching you kick Homelander's ass. Of course he'd let the anger win in the moments that followed the fight.

"Okay." Ben replies.

He sees you hesitate. “I guess I’ll see you when I get back.” You reply, with a tight smile, disappointment flashing in your eyes.

“What are you talking about?” Ben’s eyebrows furrow together. He was confused. “I’m coming with you.”

“Really?" He watches your eyes widen in surprise.

Did she really think I'd let her go alone to do this?

"Yes? I told you that I didn't want you to go alone. Especially with that asshole flying around." Ben could feel himself frown.

"Okay."

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

Reader POV

The first ten minutes of the drive is deathly quiet. Ben doesn’t say anything and you fight to keep your mouth shut. The urge to fill the silence bristled beneath your skin, but you clamp your lips together.

Even when he said he wanted to come with me, he didn't acknowledge anything I said about Rosemary and-

“Are you sure she’s mine?” Ben finally asks interrupting your internal monologue.

You can’t help but laugh, gripping the steering wheel as you snort. “Why is that the reaction all men have when a woman tells them that they’re pregnant? Is it because all men believe that women go around plotting ways to force them into a relationship? Is that a legitimate fear that you guys have? Or is it because all men think women go jumping from bed to bed having unprotected sex with whoever they can get their hands on?”

“No I just-“ Ben sighs and doesn’t finish his sentence. He’s been staring out through the windshield, watching the outside world fade into blurred colors, glancing over at you every few seconds.

“I’m sorry.” You hadn’t meant to laugh at him, but this was all just extremely awkward.

But it shouldn’t be. You can’t help but think to yourself. If Ben had ever asked me to have a kid with him before any of this I would have agreed to it no questions asked. But now I guess it's different.

“Yes she’s yours.” You sigh, but you can’t look at him.

“But how?”

“Do you really want me to explain the birds and the bees to you?”

“Y/n.” He sighs.

“Because of all the people in the world, you probably have enough experience to know exactly how babies are made and I hate to break it to you, it has nothing to do with a stork.”

“Please don’t make a joke right now.”

“I can’t help it.” You mutter butterflies dancing the conga in your stomach. “You know how I get when I get nervous.” You could practically feel your neurons sending electrical impulses through your body, making your anxiety grow.

I really should have had that coffee this morning. Then again it might go right to my anxiety.

“Why are you nervous?” Ben asks you incredulous. He sounds surprised, like he can't understand you.

“Huh?”

“Why are you nervous? You should be fucking furious with me!"

"Ben what are you talking about?" You turn to look over at him. He looks wrecked. He's hunched in the seat, hands clenched tightly over his thighs, jaw tight.

Is he mad at me? Really? Your heart sinks into the pit of your stomach to be devoured by the swarm of butterflies. I knew it. I knew he wouldn't be able to handle this-

"I did this to you and then I fucking left you. I left you when you needed me and was with those Russian fucks for forty-“ Ben’s voice breaks.

You suddenly understand. Ben wasn’t angry with you, he wasn’t pulling away, he was angry with himself. Guilty and angry because he wasn't there, because he believed that he disappointed you again.

“Ben wait a minute-“

“I should have been there every second.” He seethes, jaw tight, hands clenched into fists on top of his thighs. “I should have- FUCK.” Ben’s fist goes through the roof of the car, making the entire frame shudder.

Shit Butcher might kill us for that.

"Oh Ben-" You whisper.

“I-“ His chest begins to glow. “I said all those things, pushed you away, fucked Countess. I put you through all that shit and you still wanted to have my fucking kid? And you named her after my mom? I-"

Butcher will definitely kill us if Ben blows up his car.

You pull the car over to the side of the road, quickly unbuckling your seatbelt and reaching for Ben. "Ben please it's okay." You breathe, hands finding the sides of his face. "It's okay."

"No it's not." His chest dulls, but he turns his head away from you ashamed. "You told me that you wanted a family, that you wanted someone to come home to, someone who loved you. I wanted to give you those things, but not like this. I-" Ben's voice cracks. "I'm so sorry. I-"

"Ben." You whisper, turning his face back to yours so he's looking at you. His green eyes are dim, eyebrows pushed together, mouth turned down in a frown. And you can't help but kiss him. It's the first kiss you'd had in years. Life always seemed to get in the way of that. Whether it was Rosemary or Lou, you hadn't had a lasting relationship with someone in decades, not since Ben. The most you’d done is gone out with another artist and had dinner. It had ended in an awkward kiss that felt completely wrong to you. It didn't feel anything like this.

Kissing Ben was even more wonderful than you remember. The way he softly sighs into your mouth as he deepens the kiss, the way his hands find your waist to pull you over the center console into his lap, the way your hands automatically tangle in his thick dark hair on the back of his head, and the way your entire body melted into him. Warm tingles trace down your spine as your lips move against his, every synapse in your body electrifying, as you try your hardest to tell him how much he means to you with the kiss.

"Don't you understand." You say against his lips, stroking your fingers through his hair. "You did. You gave me a family. You gave me someone to come home to, someone who loves me. And now that she’s all grown up it gets to be you. You didn’t ruin my life. I don’t regret a single moment, even with everything that happened. I don't regret having Rosemary. You gave me what I wanted. It might not have looked the way I thought it would, but it doesn't make it any less special.”

"But I wasn't there for you when you needed me. I-" Ben sighs leaning his forehead against yours and you kiss him again, his tongue tangling with yours so devastatingly languid it seems to take your next breath.

Why did I ever deny myself this?

"Ben, you're here now, and that's all that matters to me."

"But-"

"You don't need to apologize for this Ben. What happened to you was not your fault. You couldn't control being away as long as you were-"

"I could have tried harder to escape. I could have-" He swallows, eyes wide and filled with pain. "I would have tried harder if I knew that I left you with-"

"Ben." You breathe, extracting your fingers from his hair and cupping his cheeks. "Please. I don't blame you for not being there. It was out of your control. And if-" You clear your throat with a sigh. "If you really love me as much as you say, if you've really loved me all this time, then I know you would have been there every second."

"I do. I love you." He kisses you again, breathing you in, holding you so tight against his chest as if he believes that you'll fade away in his arms. "I would have been, even if you hated having me there."

"I might have at the beginning, but now I can't imagine losing you. I can't imagine you leaving me. I don't think that I'll be able to survive this time-"

"I won't leave. I promise."

"I'm starting to believe you." Your thumbs stroke against Ben's cheeks, smiling softly at him, trying to fight the urge to cry, because your emotions are getting the best of you all over again. "Now can we please go? Or are you going to blow up Butcher's car?"

"One more Sweetheart." Ben murmurs, dragging your face back to his. "I've waited forty years for this."

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

"Does she know about me?" Ben says from your bedroom, over the sound of the sink.

You were standing in your bathroom, washing ash and blood from your face and picking rubble out of your hair. Honestly, you looked… weathered. The revenge outfit had a large irreparable hole that went through the blouse, not to mention you'd lost another favorite jacket and you were starting to get pissed.

Two down in a week. Maybe the vintage shop across the street from Rosemary's will have a nice selection. You reconsider. Or maybe Legend will have some clothes that he doesn't want. You smile to yourself. He certainly looks the same, must have some nice vintage clothes from the "good old days". Maybe I should be more worried about the fact that I’m more upset about ruining another jacket rather than the fact that we killed two people today.

Of course, you also needed to consider getting Ben some more clothes as well. Butcher's minimal selection was dismal, then again Ben could probably wear a garbage bag and be drop dead gorgeous.

He's the worst.

"Yeah. I told her who you were." You pull off the jacket, stroking your finger around the hole in the back of it, noticing the way the singed leather melted away from the laser. "She also knows you're back. It was-um- it was Rosemary who was texting me this morning." You momentarily feel guilty again. Rosemary was not excited to see Ben, the text messages this morning were a testament to that. And you were afraid that Ben was going to get his hopes up about seeing her.

Personally you weren't sure how he was going to approach this. Your heart just about broke when he almost exploded in the car from guilt about getting you pregnant. That was shocking, but at the same time the look of anguish on his face made you feel guilty all over again for not trying to get him sooner, for not asking more questions about his death. You knew that he was more indestructible than you. Why didn't I question that?

You reach for the bottom of the blouse, pulling it from your skin, but you look at your reflection in the mirror. There were two prominent scars, each about the size of a nickel, just under the left side of your bra. The only thing left behind from your fight with Homelander.

Ben's hand against the small of your bare back, makes you jump. It was rough and familiar, brushing against your soft skin in a way that makes you want to push back into his touch, to soak up the warmth like a cat in the sun. Proving again that your body still responded to his touch the same way it had your entire life. "Let me see." He rumbles.

"What?"

Ben turns you towards him, eyes dark as they meet yours, but then they drop to the collection of scars on your torso. "This one?" He strokes the golf-ball sized, almost perfect circle on the right lower part of your abdomen.

"Countess."

Ben's jaw tightens, but then raises his hand to the scars Homelander left then to the bullet scar just over your heart. "I hate that so many of these have to do with me."

"Well you didn't do them so you should see that as a win." You joke trying to make Ben smile, but he doesn't. "Ben we talked about this."

"I know." He pauses stroking his finger on a thin line just over your left collarbone. It was new to him. "What’s this one?"

"Rosemary." A ghost of a smile is on my lips. "Didn't want to eat her broccoli when she was a kid, telekinetically threw a knife at me by accident."

"She's a supe?"

"Yeah she's like us a bit. Doesn't age, she's strong, and more invulnerable, but she doesn't have any other powers unless she touches you."

"She has to touch you?"

"Yeah skin to skin contact only and only 24 hours, that's how she got telekinesis. She touched me and, well, really didn’t want to eat that broccoli-" You shrug. You were used to her powers, happy that you didn't have to watch her age, but worried about Lou. You were always worried about Lou. “But she's not a hero, she didn't want to be one. She's a nurse, works downtown in the emergency room. Though I think she's thinking about being a doctor."

"A doctor? A female doctor?” Ben’s eyebrows furrow.

Right. He basically missed the feminist movement. Note to self, make Ben watch the Barbie movie.

"Yes a female doctor. Nowadays it happens more often than you’d think.” You laugh. “She wanted to go back to school, but then her husband died and she was taking care of Lou-"

"Lou?"

You take his hand stroking your thumb over the back. “It’s not just Rosemary-“

“Please do not tell me you had fucking twins.” Ben tenses.

“No.” You snort. “Lou is our granddaughter. It's short for Louisa, though Rosie never calls her that unless she's done something crazy. She’s four, and most of the time she calls me aunty. She doesn’t know I’m her grandmother. Rosie and I, we thought it would be better if I introduced her as my cousin, not as my daughter."

“What happened to her husband?”

“Car accident. Just a few weeks after Lou was born.” Your smile drops remembering. “He was a good guy. Rosemary was head over heels for such a long time, and when he died she just crumbled completely shut down. He wasn't a supe and when she started to have a life with him I was worried about him dying. He wasn't going to live forever and he certainly wasn't indestructible. But after it happened I moved in with them for a while, helped her get through it, but it was hard."

"What about Lou?"

"What about her?"

"Is she a supe?" Ben's palm was still resting on the thin line over your collar bone and it was difficult to think with his bare skin pressed against yours.

"Not that we've noticed. Though I worry every day she will be."

"Why?"

"She's a third generation supe from our bloodline. If that gets out, who knows what'll happen. Same with Rosemary. She’s powerful and she’s only second generation from us. I’m hoping it skipped Lou.” You sigh leaning forward into his hand. "When I first found out that I was pregnant with Rosemary I was afraid that Vought would come take her away. And then when Lou was born I was so happy for Rosie, but everyday I'm scared that-" The words catch in your throat. Nothing really scared you anymore, but the thought of losing Rosie or Lou broke your heart, it was the same fear you had at the thought of losing Ben all over again.

He slides his hand up the column of your throat to cup your cheek. “Nothing will happen to them.” Ben promises. “I won’t let it.” His gaze was locked on yours, eyes filled with steely determination. It made your heart warm to know that Ben already cares about them, that he understood how important they were to you. It also made you all the more guilty for telling Rosemary everything about Ben, afraid that it turned her against him.

But I told her the bad and the good. I told her how much he meant to me, how he touched my life, our childhoods-

Images of the moments with Ben over your lifetime, the good and the bad, the moments you loved him, the moments you hated him, the simple moments that you longed for more, and the moments where Ben gave you everything you wanted, when he was exactly what you needed, as if he understood every part of you, even the parts that you tired to hide from everyone else. The moments before you were supes when Ben and you were together and he made you forget about your mother, when he walked you home as you sang drunkenly off key, and the moments where he cheered you up when everything seemed hopeless. Ben was always there for you.

You tried to tell her that, but maybe you were too jaded to tell her, maybe you focused too much on the bad. And now that meant she might not listen to his side of the story.

He drags his finger over the scar just over your heart, the one he can't seem to forget, trailing goosebumps in it's wake, while his other hand wraps around your waist tugging you forward against his chest.

By now he was wearing the pair of jeans and dark shirt he came to your apartment in, looking just as devastatingly handsome as he always did. Probably a good thing that he didn't go to her apartment in his supe suit, you didn't want Rosemary to ask him why he was wearing it and then have to tell her that he torched the TNT Twins.

Because telling her that you personally kicked Homelander's ass and that he was now going to hunt down Rosemary and Lou seemed so much easier. Not.

Why is my life like this?

"I can't put a shirt on if you keep doing that." You whisper. Honestly you couldn't think straight either.

"Maybe that's my plan all along."

"Well see, if I never put a shirt on that means that I'll be walking around in public with everyone seeing me without one and-"

Ben's eyes narrow at the thought.

“Oh do you not like that?” You smirk.

He pins you back against the counter, the marble biting into your lower back, but you don’t have time to think about it because Ben’s lips are against yours, supple and urgent, driving every thought from your mind.

Your hands come up to grip his shoulders, fastening him tighter against you while his mouth drags over your skin down your throat to your collarbone.

“Ben we have to go-“ you whisper.

“Let me do this first.” He mutters against your skin.

“Do what?” You sigh, feeling him begin to suck a mark directly over your collarbone. “Ben-“ You try to say his name to make him stop. Showing up to Rosemary’s apartment with a hickey was the last thing you wanted. But instead of his name coming out in the harsh whisper you intended, it comes out as a moan.

Ben’s body tightens around you, gaze meeting yours. His eyes are dark pools filled with promises that make a shiver travel down your spine. “I’ve waited forty years to hear you say my name like that again.” His lips fall back to the same spot. “And I look forward to hearing it like that in the future.”

Part of you is screaming too soon! But there’s another part rattling the bars of her cage that screams more! At the top of its lungs.

Ben continues to kiss along your neck, beard scratching against the soft skin in a way that makes you sigh and move your hands up to tangle in his hair.

You can feel Ben’s smile. “That’s my girl.”

“Only yours.” You whisper before you can stop yourself causing Ben to raise his head from your collarbone.

“Damn right.”He growls.

And there goes my last shred of willpower. Fuck.

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

Rosemary’s apartment building sends a deep feeling of dread through your system. You were happy that you got to change, happy that Ben got to change, but now thanks to the man sitting in the front seat across from you there was a large purple mark just on your collarbone that was barely covered by the long sleeved sweater you had on.

Please let Rosemary not see it.

Ben wasn’t helping. Since your apartment he hadn’t let go of your hand. The entire ride to Rosemary’s he held it over the center console of Butcher’s car, slowly stroking the back of it with his thumb making warm tendrils creep up your arm and settle in your heart. It was just like the night after the restaurant when Ben drove you home and he showed a softer side of himself that you hadn’t seen in forty years.

In the past 48 hours Ben had been more attentive and loving than he ever had and it made you hopeful for the future, hopeful that this really was going to work.

But you were still afraid that this was happening so fast. You weren’t expecting yourself to be so open to forgiving him, to be so ready to let him back in, to let him pick up the pieces of your heart but there he was holding duct tape with his piercing eyes and annoyingly gorgeous face.

“This is a nice apartment building.” Ben says looking up at the towering behemoth.

“She really likes it.” You shrug. “It’s close to a lot of schools and Rosie’s job. I kinda thought it was too uppity.”

“Neighborhood looks safe.” Ben gets out of the car.

“Yeah it-“ You begin to say trying to open your door but as soon as you do Ben is there opening it for you. “Oh thanks.”

“You look surprised.” He smiles.

“It’s just been a while since someone has opened a door for me.”

Ben’s smile twitches for a second. “Y/n?”

“Yes Ben.” You smooth the front of his shirt.

“How many others have there been?” He asks quietly.

You pause for a second hand still on his chest. As ridiculous as it might seem to some people, the truth was there hadn’t been anyone else.

At first it was difficult to find time for anything eat alone that in particular. Chasing a toddler around that occasionally picked up the couch and threw it across the room with her mind was enough to keep anybody busy, not to mention that you didn’t want to leave Rosemary alone with anyone for a night. And when Rosemary finally went off the college and you started to sell your paintings you started to get more comfortable being on your own again. You’d gone out to dinner with a few men who asked you after your show shared a kiss, but nothing ever felt right.

Finally came the one night that you thought things could be different. Max was a colleague that had flirted with you every chance he got. He wasn’t bad looking, reminded you a bit of Ben and your friend Adam Winthrop growing up. Max was also an artist who came to each of your shows, talked you down from the ledge whenever you thought the work wasn’t good enough and always took you out to get a drink after a show to make you feel better. He was sweet, funny, but when you were with him something always felt different.

But one night you figured why not? So you gave in, went back with Max to his apartment, but you couldn’t go all the way. It felt wrong. You could tell how much he liked you, how much he wanted you, but you didn’t want him. And it felt wrong to use someone. To make them believe you had feelings for them only to push them away.

So you told Max the truth and he respected you, didn’t make anything weird between the two of you, acted like nothing happened.

But now standing here in front of Ben with him asking you that question apart of you wished you had found someone else.

“Why?” You ask slowly.

Ben shrugs. “I don’t know you just haven’t- I mean we haven’t talked about that and-“

“I have never asked you how many people you’ve slept with. And I really don't think this is the best time?"

“I know that you've never asked but the last time I saw you I mean-" Ben's hand gently touches your waist, stroking against the top of your favorite worn pair of jeans.

You knew exactly what he was thinking about, he was thinking about the night you shared together, when he was everything you wanted, and he made you feel special loved, when he was gentle and made love to you the way you always imagined.

And yes maybe sex was off the table for a while, but it would come up again, eventually.

"Ben, can we talk about this after we get Rosemary and Lou back to Legend's?" You whisper placing a hand on his chest before you can stop yourself. You weren't sure if you'd ever be able to stop touching him, if you'd ever be able to stand in his presence and not feel warm or happy. You never expected it to be like this again, and certainly not so soon.

Ben looks disappointed for a moment, his green eyes flashing in the brilliant sunlight as it begins to sink behind the buildings. The wind carried the smells of summer, ice cream, beer, sunscreen, and just a hint of rain, rustling through the trees on the edge of Central Park. There would be a storm soon and you hoped that you were on the road before it hit. You hated driving in the rain.

"Okay." He releases your waist and takes your hand once more. "But we are going to talk about it right?"

"I don't see why it's so important." You steer him towards the front double doors where the doorman, Rodger, stands in a green and gold suit.

"Welcome back miss." Rodger smiles and opens one of the heavy glass doors for Ben and you.

"Thank you Rodger. How's the wife?" You flash a winning smile at him, still holding on tight to Ben who walks silently next to you.

"She's doing a lot better. The treatments are going well. She seems more like herself each day." Rodger smiles wider, eyes misting a little bit.

"That's wonderful to hear. Tell her I say hello." You say continuing to the gilded elevator that sits on the other side of the large marble lobby of the apartment building.

The truth was you knew that his wife was doing better, just as you knew she was receiving her treatments. Last Christmas Rodger had broken down when he was letting you up to see Lou and Rosemary and told you that his wife was diagnosed with lung cancer and because they didn’t have the money for treatment, it would probably be her last Christmas. Rodger was one of the kindest people you knew, and you didn't want him to lose his wife, so Rosemary and you both decided to shift around the generous funds that her grandfather left you, to send an anonymous donation so Rodger's wife could get treatment.

"Of course miss."

The elevator door closes, leaving Ben and you alone again, playing a cover of "Don't Stop Believing" on the piano.

Ben tugs you close and kisses you softly, so soft that it makes your eyes flutter while he smiles down at you. "I love you."

"What did you do?" You joke, nerves of Rosemary seeing Ben gone for a moment.

"You have such a big heart." He strokes his finger down your cheek, eyes soft as he gazes at you.

"He was going to lose his wife." You murmur. Ben was doing it again, seeing through you, understanding you even without knowing the whole story. It was like he always had a way of laying you bare, able to see your thoughts and secrets even though he wasn't a mind reader. "He loves her so much and for him to lose her like that-"

Ben hugs you closer to his chest. "I understand what that's like."

You see where his mind is, see that it's on a beach overseas, with blood soaked sand and your body lying in his arms as you draw your last breath. It hurt you to see the pain in his eyes, the loss even when you were standing right in front of him, even when you were in his arms, pressed against him in the way that always made you think that he was made for you just as the way you were made for him.

How could I ever forget how he made me feel? How wonderful it was to be with him when all you could see was the boy you grew up with?

"I'm right here. And I'm not going anywhere. I promise." You kiss him gently on the tip of his nose. It was more to reassure yourself than anything else. Rosemary was not going to react well to seeing him.

Might as well rip the band aid off right now.

The hallway is quiet, carpet plush and thick beneath your shoes and Ben and you make your way to the door at the end of the hallway. The blue paint is supposed to be calming, but your anxiety spikes as you raise your free hand to knock against the front door.

Please let her be here and not be kidnapped by Homelander.

The door opens.

Rosemary is dressed for work. Her maroon scrubs are clean and neat, her dark hair pulled back in a bun, her make up soft. She looks calm, but you can see the coming storm, just as you felt the coming storm outside the building, feel the electricity against your skin before the thunderclouds rose on the horizon. As soon as her eyes meet yours they narrow.

She's pissed.

"What are you doing here? I told you that I didn't need you to watch Lou tonight. Her babysitter is coming." Rosemary glances at Ben once, frown deepening as she notices his hand holding yours. You knew she was still holding back what she wished to say, choosing rather to ignore his presence rather than tear him apart here.

"I know. I'm not here for that. We have to go." You say, not wanting to discuss the full gravity of the situation in the hallway, but Rosemary shifts to block the doorway.

"You're not coming in. Not with him." She spits the word 'him' like it's a curse and you feel Ben's body tense in surprise.

I should have prepared him for this.

"Hi I’m-" Ben begins to say, trying to smooth things over.

"I know who you are." Rosemarys eyes narrow and flick back to you. “I can’t believe you fucking forgave him.”

"I-"

"Before you say you didn't that fucking hickey on your neck says otherwise."

Your cheeks flush bright red in embarrassment, shifting the sweater to hide it again. “Rosie-“

“No no no. I don’t want to hear it.”

“Rosie-“ Ben tries to say.

"Don't you dare call me that." She snarls, face contorting in rage, burning so hot that you could practically feel the air around her raising in temperature. "You don't know me. We're not friends. And I don't care what she says, you're not my dad. You're just the asshole that fucked my mom, got her pregnant and then ripped her heart out." Rosemary spits. “Do you have any idea what you put my mother through? Do you have any idea?"

Ben's body is still tense beside you, pulled so taunt that you don't know how he hasn’t snapped "I know and I apolo-“

“You think one measly apology makes that okay? MAKES ANY OF THIS OKAY?”

“Can we please not do this in the hallway?” You sigh. The last thing you wanted was Mrs. Norbert, Rosemary's prehistoric nosy neighbor coming out into the hall with her yappy French poodle, the same one that always snapped at your ankles and at Lou when you ran into her in the lobby.

“He’s not coming in here.” Rosemary stands her ground in the doorway.

"I know that you’re angry, but I need you to put that aside right now because there are more pressing things we have to worry about.”

"Like what?" Her eyes narrow at you. "Oh let me guess, you guys fucked again, you're pregnant and now you're going to-"

"Don't you dare speak to her that way." Ben roars trying to step in front of you, but you put your hand up to stop him.

Rosemary might be your daughter, but to Ben she was someone who insulted you, family or no, he wasn't going to sit back and let her treat you that way.

"Ben." You say once to calm him down. The last thing you wanted was for him to go nuclear right now. "Rosemary please. I know that you're angry, but we're not here for some big reunion. This is more important than any of this. This is about keeping Lou safe."

At the mention of her daughter's name, you see Rosemary's resolve waver. Her eyes flick to Ben again, once more sizing him up. "Fine." She opens the door wider, so Ben and you can come inside the apartment.

The creative chaos of the living room soothes some of your nerves, but not all. This was going poorly. Well, worse than poorly. Rosemary could barely look at Ben let alone speak to him without looking like she'd smelled something rancid.

You knew it would be bad, but you didn't think that it would be like this.

Apart of your heart broke for Ben. You saw how he acted in the car when you told him he was a father, how upset he'd been at the thought of getting you pregnant and then abandoning you. And now Rosemary was basically making him feel like a deadbeat probably wasn't helped either.

All you hoped was that Ben wasn't focusing on what his father used to say to him about being a disappointment, hoped that he wasn't reliving the memories of everything his father shouted at him at night before Ben fled to the solace of your bedroom.

Because the truth was you weren't disappointed and certainly were not disappointed when you got pregnant. Heartbroken yes. Scared shitless, again yes. But not disappointed, you'd never say that about him or to him, not as long as you lived. You knew exactly what those words would do to him, exactly where they would transport him. And you refused to be the reason Ben was reminded of his father.

"Aunty y/n!" Lou crows as she weaves through the apartment, leaping off the teal colored couch and into your open arms. She squeezes you tightly, burying her face in your neck. To see her safe brings relief washing over you, the same feeling you felt when Rosemary opened the door, but tenfold now knowing that Homelander has not taken either or them.

And he won't ever.

"I missed you." She whispers.

"I missed you too honey." You smile down at your granddaughter. She leans back to glance at her mother who still stands at the front door, holding on to the handle like it's her last nerve. Ben is standing close to you, looking at the little girl in your arms, face impassive, but his eyes betray him, caught somewhere between shock, anger, and just a twinge of guilt.

Please don't be guilty Ben. You think to yourself, trying hard not to reach out and touch him.

"Mommy why were you yelling at aunty y/n?" Lou looks at where Rosemary stands awkwardly by the door glaring at Ben.

"Because I didn’t tell her my friend Ben was coming." You say rubbing her back softly.

"Him?" She points at Ben.

"Yes. And don't point honey it's rude."

"Hi." Lou gives him a toothless smile and waves her chubby hand at him, her dark hair flopping away from her face as she does so.

Ben blinks at her for a moment, before his mouth begins to quirk in a half smile, shoulders still tense. But you could see that he was trying, and it meant something that he was despite Rosemary practically tearing him a new one in the hallway.

"He looks like mommy." Lou giggles cuddling into your neck to look at him.

It was the one thing that you hadn't prepared Ben for, how much he looked like Rosemary, how similar they were. You knew that somewhere deep down he was probably thinking the same thing.

Rosemary's eyes skate to Ben who stares back at her with the same intensity, but something passes in the air between them, something that you can't place.

"Yes. Yes he does sweetie. Now why don’t you go get your art kit for me, and we’ll go." You put her on the ground and Lou scampers off to her bedroom while the three of you stand there in awkward silence.

"Why do we have to go? I thought you didn’t expose yourself because you didn't go to Russia to get him." Rosemary asks. She still wouldn’t say his name. Then again you weren't expecting her to call him dad.

HA. Like that would ever happen.

Ben scoots closer to you reaching for your hand, but when Rosemary narrows her eyes at him, he pauses halfway. So you take his hand instead. "I did expose myself."

"How? Because of him?"

"Look I get that you're pissed, but I'm asking you to put it aside for one second so we can talk about this."

"Fine." Rosemary crosses her arms over her chest. "I'm listening." She still looks angry.

And you know what you're about to say is going to make her even angrier.

"We went to talk to the TNT Twins and things went south." You begin, swallowing the lump in your throat.

"Why?"

"I'll explain that later. But all you need to know is that things went badly and Homelander showed up."

Rosemary's hands tighten on her biceps so tight that her knuckles turn white at the mention of Homelander. Like you Rosemary didn't have any experience with him, only that she also knew there was something off about him.

"What did you do?" She whispers.

"It's not what she did, it's more what that fucker did." Ben almost spits, his skin heating where it rests in your hand.

"Ben." You say squeezing his hand softly as a warning. He gains control. "There wasn't a choice. We got into a fight-"

Rosemary's eyes widen, inhaling sharply. And before she can stop herself, she touches your shoulder, eyes tracing your body as if looking for injuries. "Did he hurt you? Are you okay?"

"Yes Rosie I'm fine, but he knows who I am and that means-"

"He knows who we are." Her eyes flick in the direction Lou went to grab her bag. "Shit."

"You can say that again." Ben mutters.

"Give me five minutes." Rosemary looks from Ben to you for a moment. "But this doesn't change anything."

"I know. Just go. We'll wait here." You reply with a tight lipped smile.

You hoped that one day this would get easier, that Rosemary would be able to look at Ben or have a conversation with him without killing him. The three of you seemed to be practically immortal, that was a long time to hold a grudge. And you didn't want there to be a division in your family. You'd lived with one before and you didn't want to go back through that, the awkward holidays, passive aggressive letters, and tense conversations. You didn't want that for your new family.

Maybe if I show her how much Ben has changed she'll warm up to him.

"Are you okay?" You whisper.

Ben was looking around the living room with an unreadable expression, flicking through the photos on the back of the couch of Rosemary, You, and Lou to the hand drawn pictures on the refrigerator in the kitchen.

"Ben?"

"Yeah." He mutters. "I'm fine."

But you could tell he wasn't. He wasn't really focusing on anything, and even his tone of voice was strange, hollow, but before you could press him further Rosemary and Lou come back into the room.

"Here let me-" Ben steps forward to take one of the large duffle bags from Rosemary, attempting to help, but Rosemary yanks the bag out of his reach.

"No I don’t need your help. I don’t need anything from you."

"Rosemary-" You sigh.

"And she doesn’t either." Rosemary gestures to you with the bag. "Do you have any idea what you did to her? How much you hurt her? And now you think you can just waltz back in here and say 'oh I’ll fix it' like you didn’t fuck up her life?"

"Rosemary!" You shout eyes flicking to where Lou was standing with her TMNT backpack on with wide eyes.

"No. You might not be able to say it to him. But I will. We don’t need you here. We've survived the past forty fucking years without you and we'll survive the next million!"

"Rosemary stop." You step forward this time to move between them, but Rosemary doesn't back down.

"Stop what?" She shouts. "Stop reminding you of what he did? I'm sorry, but I'm not going to just look into his eyes and forgive him like you did-"

"I DID NOT LOOK INTO HIS EYES AND FORGIVE HIM.” You snap, but then stop to take a breath. “We are working through it-"

"Uh-huh sure." Rosemary rolls her eyes. "Just stay away from Lou and from me." She moves around Ben with Lou in tow, storming through the front door of the apartment and leaving you and Ben in the living room.

Oh yeah… This is really working out for the best.

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

The ride to Legend's is dead silent, all three hours, broken up only once when you stop for gas, but even then Rosemary won't speak to you. She barely makes eye contact as she takes Lou to the bathroom, leaving Ben and you to stand at the car, watching the rain soak through the cracked pavement outside. But even Ben has been more quiet than usual, staring through the windshield of the car lost in thought, and you didn't ask him to fill the silence. You figured that with everything that happened over the past few hours, Ben deserved some silence.

When Lou and Rosemary got back to the car, Ben had silently taken the car keys from you and slid behind the wheel. He knew how much you hated driving in the rain.

Legend didn't require an introduction to your daughter, but it had been an awkward meeting for Butcher and Hughie who breezed through the front hallway on the way up the stairs to their bedrooms.

And finally when it was just Ben, Rosemary, Lou, and you standing at the foot of the stairs, you still had no idea what to say, or if there really was anything to say. You knew that Rosemary didn't want to talk out everything in front of Lou.

By now it was past midnight and you could see that Lou was already starting to sway on her feet. It was hours past her bedtime, but she was still in good spirits. Lou never seemed to stop smiling, she was happy all the time, excited to try new things, and it always reminded you of the way Rosemary used to be when she was a child and as an adult before she lost her husband.

"Rosemary-" You begin to say, throat tightening.

"I'm going to take Lou to bed. We can talk in the morning." She doesn't look at Ben or you, but you could tell that she was tired. She was still wearing her maroon scrubs, hadn’t changed out of them, too worried about Homelander, but her hair had pulled free of the bun and her makeup was a little more smudged under her eyes now. "Say goodnight Lou."

"Goodnight aunty y/n." Lou says tottering over to you, and you stoop down on the ground to hug her close to your chest the anxiety about Homelander prickling under your skin once more.

“Tomorrow can we paint some?” She gives you a wide toothless smile.

She'd lost one of her front teeth a few days ago, and was particularly proud of the hole it left behind. She'd been excited to meet the tooth fairy, even wrote a thank you note and drew a picture of her holding her tooth out for the fairy.

“Whatever you want sweetie.” You smile as she pulls away, brushing her dark hair from her wide eyes.

But instead of going back to where Rosie is holding out her hand for Lou, she turns and hugs Ben’s leg where he stands next to you. Her head barely reaches the top of his knee, but it doesn't dissuade her from hugging him with all her might.

Ben stiffens, unsure what to do.

“Goodnight Ben.” Lou looks up at him with the same smile she had for you.

You feel your own lips begin to pull up at the edges to see how much Lou wanted Ben to like her, how much she was trying to make him feel at home. It warmed you heart.

Ben looks stunned for a minute, eyes flicking to yours wide, and Rosie looks angry, but slowly, Ben begins to smile. “Goodnight honey.” He rumbles giving her a pat on the head, because he's still not sure exactly how to handle this.

Lou smiles pleased with herself then lets Rosemary take her away waving once from over Rosemary's shoulder at Ben as Rosemary climbs the stairs in the direction of the room that Legend saved for them.

Ben stands there watching them go for a minute, lost in thought. “She doesn’t like me.”

“Lou? She loves you. Of course there’s a lot to love.” You smile, trying to take his hand, but Ben pulls away. His rejection pricks at your heart, you couldn't tell why he was doing that, why he was pulling away from you again.

Is he angry? At me? At Rosemary? Or Is this him being angry at himself all over again?

You thought that he was doing better up until you went to Rosemary’s apartment, thought that he wasn’t as upset about leaving you in the past. But now you weren’t sure.

“There’s a lot to hate.” He mutters, his eyes won't quite meet yours and the fear of him leaving begins to creep back, shuddering through your bones like the chill of a winter wind.

“As there is with anybody-“ You try to recover from his rejection, searching his face to understand why he was acting so different.

“I want Rosie to like me. I’m her father-“ He turns to stare at you, green eyes dark, filled with an clouding of emotions that strike you straight in the heart. It wasn't happiness, it wasn't love, it was something different, something that made a lump lodge itself in the back of your throat.

“I know Ben. She just needs some time-" You begin to say, reaching for him, but Ben steps away from you again, refusing to let you comfort him.

"Why did you tell her all those things about me? Did you really hate me that much?” Ben shouts, voice reverberating up the staircase, so loud that you're sure other people can hear you.

"What are you talking about-"

"All the shit that happened between us. Everything that happened that night. Everything I did-“

"She asked me for the truth and I didn't want to lie to her-" You try to explain.

You hadn't. You wanted her to know the truth about her father, just as she knew that truth about you. You thought that she deserved that. And it wasn't like you told Rosemary when she was three. You told her everything that happened when she was twenty three and she had just started seriously dating her future husband, when she was scared because she’d never felt that way about anyone before. And it reminded you of how you felt about the boy Ben used to be.

"I wish you had. Damnit y/n I'm her father, she should like me!" He seethes, fists clenched. Ben towers over you green eyes blazing in the soft light coming from the lights that line the hallway.

And somewhere deep down you start to feel angry. It comes surging up like the roar of a crowd pricking at the back of your spine until you can’t take it anymore.

"It's been 4 fucking hours since you met her, GIVE HER TIME."

"I can't believe you did this." Ben spits glaring at you.

"Are you serious right now?" Your mouth opens in shock.

Was this just some kind of joke? Is he really mad at me for this? Does he really think that I would do something like this purposely?!

"Did you really hate me that much? Did you really feel the need to turn her against me? Make her not love me?"

"I didn't turn her against you Ben. And I didn’t make her not love you." You snap back. "Yes I was angry with you, but that didn't mean that I didn't want you with me every single second in Rosemary's life. I didn’t want to do that alone. I shouldn’t have had to but I don't blame you for that. I’ve told you that-“

“Yeah you’re really showing that. You turned her against me. Made me some villain. Made me some monster who fucked you and then left-“

“I THOUGHT THAT’S WHAT YOU DID DIPSHIT!” You poke your finger into his chest. “Just because I’ve chosen to begin to forgive you does not mean I forgot what you did and what you said to me that night. But I’ll say this.”

He tries to open his mouth to retort, but you speak first.

“Every time something happened with Rosemary I turned to tell you and you weren’t there.

When I went into labor I wished you were there to hold my hand and tell me that everything was going to be okay, I wished that you were there smiling down at her when you held her for the first time. When she took her first steps and fell on her butt I wished you were there to swing her around and make her laugh. When I showed her how to paint for the first time I wished that you were there to see how she was covered in paint from head to toe. And I only told her those things about you because she asked and I don’t lie to my family. I’ve never lied to Rosemary and I’ve never lied to you. Ever.”

Ben stands there stuck straight each muscle clenched, wether it be in frustration or anger you don’t care. Your own anger was coming back, unlocking from the place you shoved it down when you thought you needed to be the perfect person you wanted others to see you as and not the broken girl who lived with a hole in her heart for so long.

“And yeah maybe you can be in here and pout and fucking blame me for her hating you. And maybe I shouldn’t have told her those things but I did. I told her the good and the bad about you just as she knows the good and the bad about me. She can make her own decisions because she’s a damn adult. And don’t you dare say that I didn’t want you there every second. Because I did. Even though you fucking ripped my heart out and stomped all over it I still wished that you could have been there for her, could have filled her life with love as much as I did.”

"But you still did it." Ben growls.

And you realize that maybe this is it, maybe that this is the one thing that pushes him away from you.

"Fine. Hate me if you want. I'm going to get a drink. Don’t follow me." You snap before turning and stomping towards the kitchen, away from him, all the while hoping that he’ll follow after you.

But he doesn’t.

Despite wanting to grab one of the bottles of whiskey in Legend's kitchen, you restrain yourself and instead turn to the coffeemaker. It was fancier than yours, but you supposed that coffee would taste the same. You busy yourself with the steps of making the coffee to stop going over what you and Ben just yelled at one another, but your hands were still shaking.

Did he really think I didn't want him there? I mean yeah I was pissed from everything that happened, but I didn't want Rosemary to grow up without a father. I would have told him eventually that I was pregnant, I didn't want to do that alone.

You pour yourself a cup of coffee and lean back against the counter as you take a sip remembering the day you took the pregnancy test. It was more obvious than anything else, not the lack of your period but the morning sickness. You never got sick. You remembered being afraid at first, the thought of raising a child alone scared you. You weren't sure you even wanted to be a mother, because of everything yours put you through. But then you thought of Ben. Yes you hated him, but the baby might be the last part of him that existed anywhere. If you decided not to have it, Ben would really be gone and you would be alone all over again. So you decided to have Rosemary and you never regretted that decision. Especially now that she had Lou.

You roll the cup in your hands, feeling the warmth of the mug transfer into your palms.

Maybe I shouldn't have told her everything I did. But she knows everything about me. She knows that I killed Countess. She knows the good and bad about me. It felt unfair to only tell her the good about Ben, she deserves to know the truth. She's just upset. Honestly, she's also a upset with me as well for forgiving him or partially forgiving him.

You move to the kitchen table, stretching out in the worn wooden chair and place your mug down on the circular dark wood table. You wanted Rosemary to warm up to him, but at the same time you didn't want to get in between them. She needed to do this for herself and you didn't want to force them together.

You hear someone enter the kitchen. Probably Ben. But when you look up you realize that it's Butcher.

He stands just on the edge as if he's debating whether or not he wants to come in.

"Didn't realize you were still up." He raises an eyebrow. "Trouble in paradise love?"

"You realize that the V is completely out of your system right now right? And I could slowly peel your skin from your body with my mind if I wanted to?" You mirror his eyebrow raise while taking a sip of coffee.

"Eh. Worse ways to go." Butcher shrugs. "Anything stronger in here than coffee?"

"Top cabinet above the refrigerator. The good stuff is in the back. Legend usually tries to hide it from himself."

“Why?”

“Because he thinks it’s a waste to drink the good stuff when he’s really drunk and can’t appreciate it.”

“Seems fair.” Butcher finds the bottle of whiskey easily, moving to the cabinets to find a glass. “You want a cuppa?”

“I told myself I wasn’t going to-“ You pause for a moment thinking of how wonderful it would be if you could just forget for a few minutes. “But sure.”

“Coffee not working?”

“It never has.” You take the cup gratefully from his outstretched hand as Butcher folds himself into the chair next to you. It was weird to say the least. The only thing he had done was act hostile to you and now him being nice was enough to give you whiplash.

The rest of the house was completely silent, except the soft turn of pages. You figured that meant Rosie was reading one of her books to distract herself from everything that happened earlier.

I should be in there talking to her. Trying to explain all this.

But you were tired and still reeling from your fight with Ben and didn’t feel like getting into it with Rosemary for the second time today.

“So why’d you do it?” Butcher takes a big swig from the glass in front of him.

“What?”

“You lied about your powers to Vought for years. Why?”

You roll the glass between your fingers, watching the amber colored liquid slosh against the sides. “I’ll answer that if you answer my question.”

Butcher pauses. “Fine.”

“What did Homelander do to your wife?”

Butcher freezes, leaning back in his chair, one hand on his thigh curling into a fist.

"Legend told me that you had this thing for him because of it-" You continue cocking your head to the side examining Butcher's sudden tense stance.

“Not important.”

“Then I guess you won’t find out more about me.” You shrug.

After the past few days you didn't understand how you were here drinking with Butcher of all people. You still didn't completely trust him and you didn't like that he wanted to use Ben like he was his own personal nuclear bomb.

You both sit in the silence for a few minutes waiting for the other to break.

“He raped her.”

The words are heavy, expelled in a breath after Butcher drains his glass. For a minute you see his tough exterior crack, see the vulnerability in his stature, but then it's gone again. You feel your heart thud once in your chest, jaw locking. It only proved again how messed up Homelander was.

“Is she-"

"She's dead." He pours himself another full glass from the bottle of whiskey.

"I'm sorry." You whisper, starting to understand why he hated Homelander so much. Honestly if Homelander did something like that to my family I would rip him limb from limb.

For the first time since you met Butcher, you feel sorry for him, you understand where the sadness in his gaze comes from and where the tough exterior seems to mask the vulnerability underneath.

But at the same time, you refused to underestimate him.

Butcher nods once then glances over at you expectantly as if re-asking his question with only a look.

“It’s never been about the power for me. Or about proving how powerful I was to other people. I got the injection because Ben asked me to. It wasn't because I wanted to be superhuman or god-like or special. Plus I figured as soon as Vought or the government found out what I could really do then I’d never see the light of day again.”

"But how did you keep it a secret from Vought? They have so many fucking connections." He presses.

"Honestly Ben and I didn't figure it out until the 60s."

"Why is that?"

"The first time I died it wasn't a supe that killed me so there wasn't a change. But later when more supes started coming out of the woodwork, that's when we realized it. And I didn't care."

"Somehow you had to care." Butcher leans forward in his chair, looking at you like you're crazy.

"I didn't have a reason to. Ben liked the spotlight and I didn't."

“Is that why you stopped being Indigo?”

“It’s my turn to ask a question cowboy.” You tap your glass with a smile. “Who’s Ryan?” You had heard Hughie and Butcher whisper the name a few times, figured that it was another supe they were planning to merc.

He hesitates. “Homelander’s kid.”

“He has a kid?” Your mouth drops open in shock.

How does Butcher know that? Is it because he's so obsessed with Homelander that he's going to ask Ben to go after Homelander's son? No. No way. Like hell I'm gonna let this guy kill a kid.

You try to think of a reason why Vought would keep Homelander's son out of the media, a reason why they wouldn't show that the golden boy had a perfect son.

“But how I mean-“ You stop tracing Butcher's face, watching the way his eyes harden, and how his jaw locks together and you realize why Butcher knows about Homelander's kid. “Your wife.”

Butcher doesn’t answer, doesn't confirm what you've said, instead he pours more from the bottle into his glass.

Wow that’s fucked up.

“I’d say I'm sorry again, but I don’t think it’s going to help and honestly I thought my life was way more fucked up than yours. Guess not.” You take a sip from the glass in front of you. It burns pleasantly as it travels down you throat reminding you how much you missed it. “It got old quick.”

“What did?” Butcher looks up from the wooden table.

“Being a hero dealing with all that Vought shit. Plastering a smile on my face, flaunting in front of the cameras, it's not all it's cracked up to be. Ben liked it. He was always in the spotlight, the golden boy and I was too, but we’d been doing it for years and I always- I don’t know- wanted a family.”

Your mind suddenly goes back to the night you told Ben that, the night that you told him what you wanted and how today Ben professed that he wanted to be the one to give you those things, always had wanted to give you those things.

The fight you just had resurfaces in your mind, thinking of how angry he was at you for telling Rosemary the truth about him.

I made my choice. She made hers. One day I think she'll warm up to him, but until then he's just going to have to get through this.

Just because you believed that did not make it any easier. Your heart was tearing in two. You wanted Rosemary to love him the way you did, but at the same time you were scared all over again that this would all be too much for Ben, too dramatic. He didn't like drama, never seemed to.

“Really?” Butcher doesn’t look convinced by your confession.

“Yeah. Plus I was pregnant with Soldier Boy's kid. Vought was obsessed with Ben and I know that if they knew about Rosemary they wouldn't hesitate to take her away. It would have been worse if they knew what my power was. I doubt they would have let either of us vanish into thin air. But even before that I was seriously thinking about getting out-“

“And Soldier Boy fucking Countess was the final nail in the coffin eh?” Butcher's smirk makes your stomach flip flop.

You were still trying to forget that. Really trying to forget that.

“Yeah.” You grumble into the glass momentarily remembering the night at the premiere, but this time seeing them together doesn’t hurt as much as it used to. And instead it’s replaced by Ben the past few days, the one that continued to reassure you of his love, the one who continued to hold you close to him, the one that kissed you whenever he could, the one who patiently waited for you, and the one who reminded you of the boy you lost all those years ago.

Butcher watches you for a moment. “I’m sorry. That must’ve been hard.”

You look at him surprised. It was the first time that Butcher seemed to actually, well, give a shit.

“Thanks. It was.” You wait a second. “So how did you meet Hughie?”

“Why is that important?”

“Because he’s nothing like you. He’s a good kid.”

“You sayin I ain’t a good person love?”

“Yes that’s exactly what I’m saying.”

Butcher has the audacity to smile. “You know what I think? I think you pretend to be a good person but you’re really just a bitch who probably didn’t get enough hugs as a kid.”

You lean back in your chair feigning shock. “Is it that obvious?”

He shakes his head with a chuckle. “I don’t see how you got mixed up with Soldier Boy in the first place.”

“I did tell you.”

“What?”

“I didn’t lie about some of the things I said to you the first time we met. Ben and I grew up together. We were friends before all of this.”

“And you what? Followed him?”

“Something like that.”

Butcher sits there for a second tapping his finger on the crystal glass in his hand. Everything in Legend's home was vintage or old, the glasses included. You could remember drinking out of these same glasses years ago, on the porch behind Legend's house the day you realized you were pregnant and you told him you were leaving.

Legend didn't know, but you think deep down he did. Anyone who knew Ben couldn't dismiss how much Rosemary looked like him. Not to mention Legend knew what happened that night between the two of you.

Butcher opens his mouth, but as he does, Ben appears in the kitchen doorway. He still looks a little angry, frown prominent on his face, but his green eyes look from the glass to Butcher to you.

"That's my cue." Butcher grunts. "See you in the morning poppet." He vanishes down the hallway behind Ben leaving the two of you alone in the kitchen. It seems smaller with him standing there in the door, blocking most of it with his broad shoulders and wide stance.

"Are you going to come to bed?" He crosses his arms over his chest and leans against the doorway.

"Are you going to start yelling at me again?" You raise an eyebrow.

"I wasn’t fucking yelling." Ben grumbles. "And even if I was, you weren't exactly whispering."

"Sounded like yelling to me." You frown at him, before looking down at your glass again.

So much for an apology. Then again I probably owe him one too.

Ben’s jaw tightens. “Please come to bed.” His voice is composed, but you can still hear the tinge of his anger seep through.

"Surprised you said please. Finally using those manners I've heard so much about." You snark before you can stop yourself.

That is not helping anything.

"Come to bed." His teeth are gritted together.

“Why?"

"Because I said so."

"You are not my dad Ben. You can't just order me around."

"Just fucking come to bed!" He snaps straightening from the door, eyes blazing.

"Why is it so important I come to bed Ben? You need me to read you a bedtime story or something? Or is it because you want to have sex? I hate to break it to you, but I don’t really feel like having sex with you right now. And I don't think I will anytime soon if we keep fucking fighting about stupid-“

“Because I can’t sleep without you there damnit! I never have been able to even when we were fucking kids!"

You pause shocked. Ben had never admitted that before. You were still trying to get used to when he admitted that he loved you how open and vulnerable he’d been, but this-

He’s frowning at you waiting for you to say something, but when you don’t. He turns and stalks back towards the stairs to descend into the basement where the bedroom the two of you were sharing was.

Guilt breaks something in your chest, because now sitting out here felt like a punishment for him and you didn't think that was right.

Damn it.

You wash out the mug in the sink followed by the glass, but you look at the half-full bottle on the table.

Maybe I should bring it with me?

It swings from your hand as you walk down the dimly lit hallway descending into the fully furnished basement. You weren't thrilled with the room, had insisted that Legend change the sheets and spray down the room before you could sleep in there. You knew him, and knew exactly what had happened Legend's house since he had it custom built years ago.

Ben is sitting on the edge of the bed, smoking a blunt that he probably got from Butcher, who seemed to have an endless supply for Ben, much to your annoyance.

"I'm such a fucking pussy. I shouldn't have said that." He mutters more to himself than to you. His gaze is lowered on the shag carpet.

It was the first time that you'd heard him say something like that since he came back to you, something that sounded more like Soldier Boy than the boy you grew up with, sounded more like Ben's father.

"Ben." You sigh, putting the bottle on the bedside table, before you tilt his head back to look at you, hand cupping his chin. "You're not a pussy. I can't sleep without you either and there’s nothing wrong with that. I don't want you to feel like you can't say stuff like that to me. I love you and I won't judge you for that or think less of you. I will judge you for saying stupid shit like you did earlier."

“I’m sorry.” He sighs out a breath of smoke. “I just hate that she doesn’t like me. I’m her father she should like me-“ He repeats the same idea from earlier.

“She just needs to warm up to you."

“Maybe.” Ben mutters. "Or maybe she won't."

He looks upset. But not his usually angry upset, more disappointed and you decide that’s worse. Ben was so strong and didn’t allow himself to give in to his emotions the same way everyone else did. You hated that about him, but you were the only person who knew why. Ben's father had made him believe that showing emotion made you weak, you were there a few times that he yelled at Ben, heard the horrible things that he shouted at his only son, and it broke your heart. If it was your lot in life to bring him peace, to show him love, and to teach him that it was okay to be vulnerable, you happily would bear that cross.

You gently push back on his shoulder so he’ll move his forearms where they rest on his thighs and so you can sit on his lap. Ben’s arm comes around your waist to hold you to him, while the other continues to rest between you when he takes another drag from the blunt. “Ben, I promise she will.” Your knees rest on either side of his hips as you balance on him, ignoring the urge to wrinkle your nose at the smell.

“Your family never seems to like me.”

“She’s your family too and Lou loves you.” You brush his hair back from his face and he leans forward into your touch. "She's an excellent judge of character. Pretty soon she's gonna be drawing you in the family portraits and once that happens you're in, there's nothing stopping you."

Ben's mouth twitches but he doesn’t smile. "She's cute."

“She is. And if she likes you, you’re doing something right.” You smile at him. “And my family liked you it was just my mom who thought you were the devil. My brother thought that you were okay and my dad liked you plenty. Remember he never ratted you out when you slept in my room?”

“He was a good man. We would talk sometimes.” Ben blows out a lungful of smoke and this time your nose wrinkles at the offensive smell, before you realize what he’s just admitted.

Ben notices your discomfort and flicks the blunt into the ashtray shaped like a naked woman on the bedside table.

“About what?” Your father had never mentioned any conversation with Ben or at least you didn't remember him saying anything about Ben, beside your father's usual questions as to what Ben and you were going to do that day.

“You.” Ben whispers, not meeting your eye.

“When?”

“Sometimes I’d come try to see you when you were out with Howard." Ben sighs his name. "Ended up talking with your dad.”

“Are you serious?”

He nods hands gently stroking along your waist.

“Why didn’t you tell me that you came by?”

“Didn’t think it was important Sweetheart.” Ben pauses eyes flicking up sheepishly to look at you. "I didn't want you to think that I was hanging around waiting for you to get back. I was but-" You can tell that it pains him to say it, like he didn't want to admit he cared, but the thought that he came by to check on you made you happy.

“What did you say about me?”

Ben presses his lips together.

“Ben?”

“He wanted to know how your artwork was coming along, what we had done in the past week. Stuff like that. One time he said he didn’t like Howard either.”

“What?" Your hands tighten on Ben's shoulders in shock.

“He said that he hated the way you looked whenever Howard came around and then he said if he was gonna give his permission for anyone to marry you it was going to be me.” Ben shrugs it off as if he hasn’t said the most shocking thing you’ve ever heard in your life.

Your father would ask you about Ben occasionally and only when your mother left the room. He always seemed pleased when Ben would come pick you up, one time he gave Ben some money so he could buy tickets when you both went to a carnival, but you had no idea that they had talked about Ben marrying you.

“Hold on. Did you-" You pause for a second. "Did you ask my father if you could marry me?”

“No.” Ben answers quickly.

“Well then did he say why he didn't like Howard?"

“He said he liked how happy I made you. Said that you would always be singing in your room after you saw me.” Ben smiles one of his hands curving around your hip to hold you steady on his lap. “I told him I was sorry he had to hear that. You have many talents y/n, but singing is not one of them.”

“I don’t want to hear it from you. There’s about a million tapes of you trying to sing, not to mention you trying to dance. I wanted to jump out the window when you dragged me to that Solid Gold Music Video shoot.“ You roll your eyes at him.

Ben presses a hand to his chest as if offended. “You don’t like the way I dance? Because I happen to remember a few times that we’ve danced together and you certainly seemed to be having a good time.”

“I’m a good actress.”

“Sure.” Ben snorts. “Then again I think I’m good a few other things too. Things that I wouldn’t mind showing you sometime.” His arm wraps around your waist as he pulls you into his chest, lips catching along the shadow of your jaw.

“You’re awfully sure of yourself I’ll say that.” You laugh.

"Mhmm." The rumble of his answer seems to vibrate down your spine spreading warmth in its wake.

"Ben." You warn, as his hands begin to play with the bottom of your shirt.

"I know." He whispers raising his eyes again to look at your face with a soft smile, but you can still see a flicker of disappointment behind them.

Deep down you knew that you were getting closer to forgiving him, but it had only been two days, and everything between the two of you was still a little rocky. You wanted things to calm down again before you took that big step with Ben again. You didn't want to rush it, and you could see that Ben didn't want to either.

"How about tonight, we do something a little different." You trace your index finger over his lips, loving the soft curve beneath the pad of your fingertip.

"What do you mean?" He looks confused.

"You'll see." You murmur against his lips as you drop your mouth down to his, losing yourself in him all over again.

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

A/N: I know it's been a while guys and I know it's crazy to end it on another cliffhanger but... I'm sorry, not sorry? I hope y'all enjoyed this one. I'm sorry it took me a while to get it out, the writer's block is turning into a soul sucking abyss, but honestly, what's new? 😂 Hope that y'all enjoyed this one and I'm excited to hear what y'all think!

As always thank you so much for reading! If you'd like to be added to my taglist for the series let me know:)

(Also if you have asked to be apart of the taglist and you are not being notified- I am trying to fix it, but it's being weird. Please let me know if you haven't received a notification.)

Taglist: @roseblue373 @anundyingfidelity @cheynovak @cassiecasluciluce @muhahaha303 @deans-spinster-witch @kayleighmeister @demodemo909 @fruitfacess @bobbobbobinogs @bughill126 @simplyfixated

#soldier boy x you #soldier boy #soldier boy x female reader #soldier boy x reader #soldier boy/ben #jensen ackles soldier boy #jensen ackles #soldier boy fanfiction #the boys amazon #the boys fanfic #billy butcher #hughie campbell #soldier boy x y/n #soldier boy fic #the boys s3 #the boys season 3 #the boys tv #the boys series #the boys

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thisapplepielife · 1 month

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Written for @steddieangstyaugust.

Clean Sheets Night

Day #20: "I didn't know where else to go." | Word Count: 1374 | Rating: T | CW: Language | Tags: Future Fic, Established Relationship, Slice of Life, Annoyed Steve Harrington, Oblivious Eddie Munson, Mild Angst, Happy Ending, This Is What People Mean When They Say Marriage is Hard

Steve smooths the bottom sheet, then fluffs the top one over the entire bed, walking around all the edges to make sure it's laying just so. He can smell the fresh scent of the dryer sheet clinging to the fabric as it whooshes through the air, and he loves it.

Growing up, he never had to change his own sheets, they always just showed up that way, after the housekeeper had been there for the day.

Now, he does it for himself, and enjoys it.

Then he pulls the first comforter up over the bedding, and then tops it with a second comforter, and then with a heavy quilt. Clean, warm and cozy. Blankets piled high. This is how he likes his bed to look, and feel. Not tugged and pulled and mussed up within five minutes of going to bed.

So, he relishes these nights alone. He always turns them into Clean Sheets Night.

His own private party, just for one.

He can crawl into bed and onto sheets that are fresh out of the dryer and smell fantastic. And then he can sleep in them, and in the morning, when he rolls out of bed, he can just pull up the top sheet and blankets and it'll look like it has never been slept in at all.

It's perfect. Wonderful. One of his all-time favorite solo activities.

A simple pleasure, but one nonetheless.

Steve had no idea how much he needed clean and tidy sheets on his bed until he moved in with Eddie and that concept was so rudely ripped away from him.

So, when Eddie's gone for the night, he changes the sheets and relishes the lack of chaos.

Sliding between the sheets, he turns on the television, watching as it comes to life as Letterman is getting ready to deliver his nightly monologue.

Then, the front door bangs open and closed, and before he knows it, Eddie is standing in the doorway.

"Oooh, clean sheet night," Eddie says, as he sheds his clothes next to the bed, sliding in beside him. Kicking his feet, ruffling everything immediately. Then he slides his hand across the empty space between them, squeezing a handful of Steve's ass.

"What are you doing here?" Steve asks, because Eddie was supposed to be on a plane to L.A. right now. Not here, already fucking up his clean linens.

"Flight was canceled. We'll have to try again tomorrow. So…?" Eddie asks, squeezing Steve's ass again, a clear come on.

"The sheets are clean," Steve says, because they are.

They are clean, and were, up until five seconds ago, very well made. But Eddie never cares about that, never even tries to keep from messing them up the second they're back on the bed. He wallers around, like a hog sorting out his pile of hay.

"That's part of the fun, messing them all up again," Eddie says.

"That's not fun. That's annoying," Steve states flatly.

"Having sex with me is annoying?" Eddie asks, "Gee, thanks, sweetheart."

"When my sheets are clean? Yeah, a little. You weren't even supposed to be here tonight."

"Well, excuse me. I thought my husband might be excited to see me back home unexpectedly. I didn't know where else to go. Did you want me to get a hotel room? Sleep on the floor of the airport? Shit. I didn't know coming home to you would be so controversial, Steve. Fucking hell."

Steve rubs at his forehead. He wasn't trying to start a fight. He really wasn't. Of course he wants Eddie here at home. But at the same time, he can be annoyed that his plans for the night have changed.

"Of course I want you home, Eddie, you're putting words in my mouth," Steve says, "I just. Like my clean sheets. Okay? I look forward to this. Because you are like a hog wallering around in shit."

Eddie looks at him for a split second wide-eyed, then laughs loudly, so Steve laughs, too.

Eddie raises his arm, sniffing his underarm, "I'm clean. I think. Mostly."

Steve rolls his eyes, "I don't mean dirty like that. Just. You sleep like a chaos demon and my bed suffers for it."

"Well, I'm sorry King Steve, I didn't know we were fancy over here," he says, rolling over onto his back, tugging the sheets around him, and then crossing his arms over his chest, like he's laying in a casket. Dead. Still.

Steve rolls his eyes, scooting across the space between them, throwing his arm over Eddie's stomach.

"I'll try to be more careful," Eddie says, cracking open one eye, looking over at Steve.

"I'm glad you're home, sorry for being a bitch," Steve says.

Eddie grins, closing his eyes again, "I like you bitchy. I wouldn't have you any other way."

Steve smiles, closing his eyes, cuddling up beside Eddie.

"I really didn't know you felt so strongly about the sheets," Eddie admits, maneuvering so he can wrap his arm around Steve's shoulders, squeezing.

"I do," Steve admits, "I really, really do. I don't know how you fuck them up so fast. It drives me fucking crazy."

"I get hot, okay? You've got so many blankets on the bed all the time," Eddie says.

"You're the coldest blooded person I know!" Steve scoffs, affronted by this excuse, "The extra blankets are for you."

"I sleep hot, though. I thought you wanted all these piles of blankets."

"No! They're for you," Steve insists.

"Well, maybe we could take a few off, and see if that helps me not kick everything around in the middle of the night."

"Well, okay!" Steve nearly shouts, unbelieving that they've been this out of sync with each other. Eddie is always cold. His hands are cold, his feet. Steve never thought that he wouldn't be cold when he sleeps. What the fuck? Seriously. What. The. Fuck?

They've been together for years, many, many years. This shouldn't be coming up right now.

"Why didn't you ever say anything?" Steve asks, as he scoots over until he can crawl out of bed, yanking the heavy quilt off the top of the bed. Then the second comforter. Leaving only one comforter and the top sheet. "That still too much? Want me to switch them?"

"That's fine, sweetheart," Eddie says, "and I never said anything because I thought this is what made you comfortable."

Steve stands at the end of the bed, hands on his hips. Well, this is some bullshit.

"I'm sorry. I've been silently plotting your demise for years, when I could have just taken some blankets off? That's bullshit."

Eddie laughs, tilting his head back against the pillow.

"How were you gonna off me?" Eddie asks.

"Lots of ways. It always ended with wrapping you up in the sheets you fucked up, though," Steve teases, and Eddie is smiling like a fucking goon.

Steve loves him.

Even if he fucks up the bedding.

Eddie swings his hips around so he can crawl out of bed, too. He pulls the sheet and comforter up, trying his best to smooth everything back out how Steve had it.

"There," Eddie says, brushing his hands together, like he's finished a big job. Steve's charmed, and yeah, he's found this pretty annoying, but at the same time? If this is how marriage is hard for them? They've gotten pretty goddamn lucky.

Steve watches to see what Eddie's next move is, now that he's tried to remake the bed.

"Now," Eddie says, "I'll tell you what. I'm gonna go take a shower. Wash the airport off me. And if you'd like to join me you can," Eddie says, reaching over and squeezing Steve's hip, "and after that, we can both crawl back into your clean sheets, and lay like corpses."

Steve grins so wide, he thinks his face might split in two, nodding, "Yes. Let's do that."

Eddie smiles, and walks towards the bathroom.

Steve looks down at the bed, reaching down to adjust the corner of the comforter that was flipped up on Eddie's side, but this time, he does it with a smile.

And then he follows Eddie to the shower that he can already hear running, his husband home, and waiting.

If you want to write your own, or see more entries for this challenge, pop on over to @steddieangstyaugust and follow along with the fun angst! 😭

#steddieangstyaugust #stranger things #steddie fic #steve harrington #eddie munson #steve x eddie #thisapplepielife: short fic #thisapplepielife: steddieangstyaugust

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writtenbyjeanofarc · 11 months

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★༉‧₊˚✧ — 𝑯𝑬 𝑾𝑯𝑶 𝑻𝑬𝑵𝑫𝑺 𝑻𝑯𝑬 𝑾𝑬𝑨𝑲.

𝖌𝖊𝖓𝖗𝖊: Dark fantasy, yandere, a bit of fluff.

𝖕𝖆𝖎𝖗𝖎𝖓𝖌: Alucard X You (the reader)

𝖘𝖞𝖓𝖔𝖕𝖘𝖎𝖘: Just a little one-shot scenario between you and affectionate, but yandere Alucard snuggled up in bed. The time takes place after sex. After refusing to cuddle with him, he spirals into a feeling of bloodlust as he gets himself ready to mark you as his.

𝖈𝖜: Blood drinking, if that counts. A bit of dubcon even though there isn’t really smut for this fic, and slight degradation (he calls you his pet).

𝕬𝖚𝖙𝖍𝖔𝖗’𝖘 𝕹𝖔𝖙𝖊: Hello again, readers. So I’m back with a new fic and despite not uploading for a couple of weeks due to mental health reasons and school, I’m going to post this new fic I made which is a part of a series!

YANDERE PROMPT LIST BY: @writeformesinpie

PROMPT: “I can never get enough of you. I’ll drink you down to the last sip.”

“A-Alucard….Just five more minutes…please….”

It was about nine o’ clock in the morning when all curtains were closed to prevent sunlight from penetrating through the glass windows.

….And there you were in bed, bare naked with the touch-starved vampire himself, your body shivering at the cold touch of your respective “lover.” Alucard was trying to cuddle you, to which you tried avoiding.

“You’ll take whatever’s been given to you, dear. You must lie with the beast before you who has been craving your touch for as long as a thousand years.”

“There you go again with your silly monologues, Alucard. Just let me be as I sleep, alright? I’m tired. You might as well kill some peasants outside or do your necessary duties for the day….just leave me be-”

A loud sound was heard as Alucard flipped you over.

You couldn’t believe your eyes as Alucard landed on top of you, pinning you down to the king-sized bed as his eyes glowed a bright shade of red. The look on his face intimidated you like a hungry wolf cornering its prey, his lips forming a smug smirk. You wanted to….no, you needed to run to a safe place where you could feel a bit of comfort. The look he’s been giving you was unlike his previous deed of cuddling your smaller figure.

Alucard let out a small chuckle.

“Cat got your tongue, darling? Judging by your current state, there won’t be another time where you’ll refuse my orders.”

“But, Alucard, we’re-” you attempted to protest.

“We’re not what?” Alucard asked, tilting his head. “Not together?” He laughed in retaliation to your bewildered facial expression. Leaning closer to your ear, you felt chills run down your spine as he whispered intimately. “Very well, let me clue you in. Your blood is mine, in fact, your entire being is mine by the time I’ll have myself inside you. Sir Integra has chosen you to become my one and only pet whom I shall swear to protect with my very own life. You are far too fragile to let go. Let this moment consume your soul. Give yourself to me, and don’t look back.”

“Alucard…..please…” you whimpered. “I only agreed to sleep with you because….because…..!!!”

“Such a precious, sensitive little thing.”

His mouth opened wide and bit down aggressively on your neck, drawing blood. You moaned loudly in return, trying to push away Alucard’s huge figure off of you. Your efforts to let yourself free were pointless, as he took advantage of your arms by grabbing your wrists and keeping them in place.

Alucard started to suck the blood out of your neck, leaving bruises and hickeys around it. He surely was doing all this for his own pleasure, so as to leave you aching for more. And boy, were you feeling real good.

“A-Alucard!!! I….I thought…you just wanted…a hug…..”

“Hm? I've changed my mind. From now on, what I want from you is something more sinister, something animalistic and disgusting to the untrained eye. I can never get enough of you, I’ll drink you down to the last sip. I have fallen for you, pet. Show a little gratitude for someone as powerful as I have swallowed their pride just to love and protect you dearly with all my strength.”

“I appreciate it, but….”

“Has your pride gotten the best of you, dear? After we got our freak on the previous night? I bet it didn’t. Just admit how you developed feelings for me.”

“Oh, no! That’s not the case! I-” you stammered.

“Ah, so you still refuse to admit your feelings, hm? Very well, I’ll show you how desperate of a mess you’ll be once I bend you over.”

It was too late. You and Alucard were about to spend the whole morning going at it until night, leaving you with no choice but to spend time with the creature who has lusted for you since Integra has chosen you as his pet.

There was no turning back.

It was about to be a long day.

#alucard x reader #alucard x you #alucard imagine #hellsing alucard #hellsing ultimate #alucard hellsing #hellsing #alucard hellsing x reader #x reader #yandere prompts #yandere x reader

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okwonyo · 3 months

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﹙ ✉️ ﹚ ──TRACK 15 ；PASSIONATE。in which ⸝ 𝗁𝖾𝖾𝗌𝖾𝗎𝗇𝗀 𝗂𝗌 𝒶𝖽𝖽𝗂𝖼𝗍𝖾𝖽 𝗍𝗈 𝗒𝗈𝗎.

엔하이픈 희승 ⠀ ノ⠀ female reader 1200 florist!reader fluff getting together friends to lovers⠀⎯⠀⠀awkwardness skinship lots of talking ⠀， recueil . . . ( click )

ꣀ꣒ this is stan twitter’s chapter 14 .. there is a lot of talking here. i hope it is possible to read as a stand alone and that you’ll enjoy reading it ~

it isn’t as weird as you thought it would be. the weather is nice, like a normal day this month.heeseung arrived five minutes in advance, with a huge smile on his face, you were almost scared that his teeth will fall out.

he also had flowers he bought, that weren’t made with your own two hands this time, you accepted them with an awkward laugh and a blush appearing on your cheeks. you looked less embarrassed during that moment than when he stared at you, from up to down, then down to up, sly grin creeping on his lips. you opted for a white top that paired with your white shorts ─ nothing too much but enough for him to tell you that you were breathtaking. you didn’t really know how to respond, choosing to return the compliment, he became red in the face.

he held to door for you when you entered the garden, as if he was the one who owned the shop. there is a small plate-form, in the middle of the flowers, a square in beige tiles where you dressed the table for your date. you both agreed to do that in a discreet place, and you couldn’t think of anywhere else but the places you spent the last weeks gardening together.

the lunch went smoothly. you were both sitting awkwardly in front of each other for a few minutes, as if you weren’t used to heeseung’s clingy antics already, but it went over the window pretty quickly. legs crossed under the table, your feet tap against his caf gently, he opens his palms so your fingertips can do the same on them.

during a soft and comfortable silence, you speak, “you know, you are so cool,” you start, heeseung eyes on you lingers as you keep tapping on his palm. “whenever is see you─ and i know you don’t want to talk about it but i need to elaborate my point─ whenever i see you on stage, it’s just like you are born to be here.” you take a deep breath, trying to calm the beating of your heart getting faster. stress, you hate it, “and this is why i have always liked you─you are─” too much words stumble over their feet in your brain, none of them can attain your mouth with falling. “so passionate, about your job, your music, life and” you press your lips together, finally looking up. heeseung gaze is full of understanding, yearning, pining and longing for you. “even about me.”

he opens his mouth, you continue to talk, “and for the longest time i thought that i would only see as such. as the man on stage who always gives his all, like─like a star in the sky that you admire but cannot touch” he whispers something about how he is right in front of you, you giggle, “and you are here, and i learned so much things about you─ and i find myself being passionate about you. not only because of who you are on stage but because of who you are, here, in front of me.”

“i’m so scared of what it this, passion,” you can’t say the stronger word, “will have as an impact on who you are─ even if you don’t want me to treat you as such─ that idol on stage, that i still reached somehow, with such an amazing career coming ahead. and i don’t want to ruin that for you.”

there is a long silence, when you finish your, sort of, confession monologue. heeseung watches you with his mouth slightly agape and his eyes a ta widened. his hands are gripping onto yours now, his warmth shallow your skin whole and the weather doesn’t help much.

“you─” he starts, and he smiles. “talk so much.”

you kick his leg under the table and he lets out a pained sound, “i’m being serious here,” you chuckle.

“i wanted to kiss you during that whole monologue.” he says and you roll your eyes, “i’m serious, you where talking about how amazing i was and how scared you where, which i understand. but the only thing only thing on my mind,” your breath catches when he finishes his sentence with the calling of your name. “you are the only one i want, and i will be willing to do anything to keep you safe.

“i didn’t even mention me there,” you sigh, “i was talking about you.”

heeseung huffs, his thumb rubbing your skin and smooth motion, “i know, you don’t think about your safety so i have to do it for you,” he interlock your fingers together, you watch him with a smile growing on your lips. “we’ll take care of each other, yeah?”

you only hum, focusing on his fingers between yours, the tight yet gentle grip makes you feel in a way that you can’t quite describe. heeseung eyes, however, stares are something else. not your eyes nor your hair, something that he feels has been calling him for a while now.

like a siren in the ocean, the peachy hue gently resting on your lips attracts him. soon, your mouth is the only thing occupying his mind. it gets worse when your eyes focuses on him again, wide and charming, he can’t do anything but lean in.

he wouldn’t be able to tell if it’s the sun, reflecting hard on the back of his head or just, you, but he feels dizzy─ and his only medicine is one if your kisses.

“can i?” he whispers, for only you to ear. the gape between the both if you get slowly smaller and smaller, as much as your lips are calling him, his do the same to you.

it only takes a nod of yours to finally make you both meet in between.

his lips presses softly, firmly and eagerly against yours. as if he as been waiting for this for years, which feels like the truth, his nose lets out a sigh, a desperate sigh.

he misses your hand in his, but he forgets about it quickly when it finds his hair. your taste is so addicting, he slips his hands on you cheeks, cupping them, he pulls you closer than the table in between the two of you lets him. he tilts your head to the side, the sweet tast of the soda he just drank feels your mouth when his tongue slips through your lips. he is too addicted to you to even remember to breathe, you are the one who break the kiss.

his lips are swallowed and shiny, just like yours, “i think i’m in love with you,”

you snort, “you don’t know anything about me,” as if it wasn’t a blatant lie. he tends to ask a lot of questions and you like to elaborate on your answers. which is just perfect.

still, he plays along, “i have the rest of my life to find out.”

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redroomreflections · 2 months

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Before She Cheats...

Natasha Romanoff x fem!reader

Summary: Natasha cheats on reader

The Loud House Universe

w/c:1.6k (an AU to the AU )

You can't see her face when you walk through the door, your excited greeting hanging in the air as you shrug off your coat and kick off your shoes. Natasha remains silent when you call out to her, her body language stiff and unmoving as she sits curled on the couch.

"Hey, baby, I thought we could celebrate tonight!" You suggest, your voice brimming with enthusiasm. You don't wait for an answer as you drop all your belongings in the foyer. The familiar scent of fresh soap fills the room, and you notice the damp curls of her hair, evidence of a recent shower. “I officially put in my resignation for ADA. We can go ahead and get started on the move. Also, I will be accepting that job offer in the morning. Ohio it is for us.”

Still nothing. It’s fine she’s probably busy with Luke.

"Natasha?" You call again, hoping for a response, but the silence is deafening. The atmosphere in the room shifts, and your excitement wavers as you approach her cautiously. "Oh, you're in here with all the lights off," you observe with a chuckle. "It's giving Cara after a long day. How are you? I missed you." You lean in to kiss her lips, but she turns slightly, offering only her cheek in return.

Your smile falters as you pull back, your excitement dimming. "Is everything okay?" you ask, concern creeping into your voice. Natasha's gaze remains fixed ahead, her silence louder than any words. "Where are the kids? Did something happen?"

"No, um the kids are fine," She finally speaks. She looks into your eyes and all you see is pain. "I sent them to the compound for the weekend. "

"Oh, that's cool then," You nod. "Even Luke? He's so tiny. It will be his first time away. "

Natasha nods. She bites her lips nervously. Something you've never known Natasha to do.

"I felt we needed this time to talk about a few things," She began before shaking her head.

"Okay," You furrow your brows.

"We've been together for a while now. We've built a life together and our children and the Avengers and it's great. It really is. " Natasha begins a monologue that has you going from confused to afraid. "I love you."

"Natasha, I love you too," You grab a hold of her hand. You massage her skin soothingly. "What's wrong? Baby, tell me."

"I, um, there's no easy way to say this," Natasha takes a deep breath. "I was drunk. I was stupid. I slipped. It was just one time and..."

"What happened?" You interrupt her. You don't want to think where this is going. It's never been a thought in your head.

"I slept with someone else," She whispers. "It was a mistake. I know I can't take it back. I am sorry."

The blood drains from your face, and your heart sinks. You pull your hand back as if you've been burned.

"No," You shake your head. "No, no. You didn't do that. You're not stupid. You wouldn't throw away ten years of marriage like that."

"I'm sorry. I'm so sorry," She pleads with you. "You have to believe me." She reaches for your hand."

"No," You shake your head. "Why would you do that? W-why?"

"It was a mistake, Y/N. I didn't think it would lead to anything. We were both drunk. It happened so fast." Natasha explains.

"So, you just forgot you're married." You questioned. "You just forgot you had a wife at home. What was she prettier than me? Was I working too late? Did she give you affection I didn't?" Your voice raised.

"No," Natasha denied.

"Then what is it?" You demanded.

"I wasn't thinking. I made a mistake. You have to believe me. It will never happen again."

"I have to believe you. No! You know what I believe. I believe you've been having an affair. And that you were just looking for a reason to leave. " You stand from the couch. "I know you. A one-time thing isn't you? You're an emotional person as much as you try not to be."

"I swear it's not like that. Please."

"No," you cut her off. "Just don't." You turn away from her. Tears blurring your vision.

"Please, I'm sorry," Natasha's voice cracks. She stands to come and get you to look at her.

"No," You turn around to push her away. "I said don't."

"I'm sorry. You can't imagine how sorry I am. I never wanted to hurt you. " She pleads.

"You never wanted to hurt me? That's such a fucking lie," You pushed her again. She allowed herself to move. "You throw away twelve years of a relationship for nothing? Please don't play with my intelligence. We just adopted another fucking baby. He's not even six months old and you mean to tell me you go and pull this?"

"Y/N, please. Just let me explain."

"What is there to explain? You fucked someone else. What can you explain? You had an affair. You've been having an affair." You began to pace. It was either this or you would start swinging. Neither of you needed that.

"No, Y/N, that's not it. Please."

"How long? How long has this been going on?" You turned to her. "I want the truth."

"It was one time," Natasha reiterated.

"Who is she?"

"Y/N, I promise it's not like that," Natasha shook her head.

"Stop lying," You yelled. "Just stop. You fucked someone else. And I want to know who the fuck she is."

"You don't understand. We can get past this. You're my wife. We're married. I can't lose you."

"I don't understand," You huff. "How could you do this to us? Who is she?"

"Baby, please," Natasha pleads with you.

"Who is she, Natasha?" You demand.

"A woman from HR at Stark Industries," Natasha finally says. "She was a temp. We met a few times over legalities and my contract. Though I swear it was only one time. In her office."

"Her office?"

"We were having lunch and she was leaving and her door was open. And the next thing I knew we were kissing. And I was sitting on her desk and she was fucking me." Natasha continued.

"You can't be serious," You practically scream. Anything to keep from bursting into tears.

"Please," Natasha steps closer. "I'm sorry. Please forgive me. Let me fix this. Don't leave me. We have a family. You can't."

"Don't touch me." You raise a finger. "I'm liable to do anything right now I'm so pissed. I can't believe this."

"It will never happen again," Natasha promised.

"Yeah, but it already has," You remind her. "I-I-I can't breathe." You hold a hand to your chest. This is one of the most devastating things you've had to go through in your life. You wish you could go back to one hour ago. "I think I'm gonna throw up." You push past her. "I need to get out of here. I need some air."

"No, Y/N, please don't leave," Natasha begged. "Stay and let's talk about this."

"Fuck, you!" You yell.

"Let me make this better. Please, just give me a chance."

"I need to go."

"No," She grabbed your arm.

"Don't fucking touch me!" You shout. "Let me go. Let me go, now!"

"Baby, please,"

"No, just no," You yanked your arm away. You finally allowed the tears to fall. "How could you do this, Nat? How could you? What was it that wasn't enough for you? What wasn't I giving you that you had to go out and sleep with someone else?"

"I can't believe you would do this to us. We've been together ten years. We have kids. I can't even look at you."

"It was a mistake," She cried.

"Mistakes are forgetting your wallet. Mistakes are accidentally putting the car in reverse instead of drive. Mistakes are not throwing away the love of your life because you were drunk."

"I didn't mean for this to happen."

"I am leaving for the weekend," You begin. "I will call my lawyer first thing Monday morning."

"What, no."

"I want a divorce," You announce. "I don't want to see you. I don't want to hear your voice. I will be back for the kids and I will be filing for sole custody."

"Y/N, wait," She tried to follow.

"Do not follow me," You warned. "Do not try to call or text me. You stay the fuck away from me."

"You can't just take my kids away from me," She argues. "Divorce is crazy. We can work through this. I can work through this."

"Oh, trust me, I'll take everything. You've broken my heart. I'll make sure you feel that same pain. If not worse. Now stay the fuck away from me," You warn.

"You're not the vengeful type," Natasha protested. "I know this hurts but putting the kids through a custody battle?"

"You weren't the cheating type either but I guess we can still learn new things about each other," You begin to collect your things. "I want a divorce. I want full custody. And I want you as far away from me as possible."

"And if I won't give it to you," Natasha challenges.

"I will ruin you," You threaten. "I'll take your bank accounts. I'll take the kids. I'll make sure you can never work again. And I'll take all your friends. I will make sure no one will ever trust you again."

"What are you talking about? Y/N, come on."

"Don't you 'come on' me," You shake your head. "I hope she was worth it."

You leave the house, slamming the front door behind you. How could she do this?

---> next part

#natasha romanoff #black reader #natasha x reader #black widow x reader #natasha romanov #black widow x female reader #natasha x you

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areyouwell · 1 month

Text

Autophobia

Noun: An extreme and irrational fear of being alone. Children or adults with this condition often suffer from severe panic attacks at the thought of being completely alone.

Ch.5.5

Ch.5, Ch.4, Ch.3, Ch.2, Ch.1 <--

Paring: Logan Howlett x F!Mutant!Reader

Warnings: Descriptions of a depressive spiral, atypical methods of self-harm, severe mental breakdown

Word Count: 6.8k

A/N: just a little follow-up chapter cuz if i put this all in one it would have been almost 20k words. let's not talk about how my mini-chapters are over 6k words i'm fluent in yappanese let me monologue

Taglist: @badbishsblog @reidsworld @idioticstar @toogaytofunctiondangit @ghostyv @wolviesgirl @over-bi-the-wayside @justice4billiam @holyhumorliteraturelight @cxptainbuck

The last twenty-four hours had been a complete blur. Numbly going through the motions of packing a rucksack, letting your body take you to where you needed to go whilst your mind was stuck in a loop. Eighty years. Eighty years. That’s how long you were kept from the world. That’s how long you’d been fed lies and bullshit. Eighty fucking years. And everything about your life, about who you are, what you’d been through, was in that venomous folder you couldn’t bring yourself to open. Nobody looked at you the same way. Ororo could barely stand to be in your presence, having to leave every time you entered the room. Charles kept looking at you with fucking sympathy and you wanted to knock his bald head clean off his shoulders. Scott kept apologising every time he passed you in the hallway, saying he didn’t know and would have done things differently if he had. Kurt and Hank barely knew what the fuck was going on and you hadn’t seen Jean since before the raid.

And then there was Logan. Who kept almost tiptoeing around you, asking if you were alright every five fucking seconds, asking if you needed anything or if you wanted him to do something. Honestly, you wanted him to shut the fuck up. You wanted them all to shut the fuck up. You hadn’t processed anything. Hadn’t been allowed to process anything. After you woke up, you’d explained to those in the med-bay what Dr.Kremlin –or whatever his stupid fucking name was– had told you. Charles filled in the gaps, and you were given all of thirty seconds before you were taken upstairs to pack a bag and to meet Logan in the garage. You felt nothing as you swung your rucksack in the backseat of the beaten pickup truck, clambering into the passenger’s side and falling into dead silence. You didn’t even get to say goodbye. Not to Jubilee, not to little Artie. Not even to Kitty.

At least your trip away made more sense now. Charles wanted you out of the mansion so he could monitor those neurotransmitters from the supposed environmental research facility without you catching wind of anything. Not that you’d know anyway, but maybe he thought it was safer if you didn’t know. What you didn’t know couldn’t hurt you, right?

How ironic did that feel?

You’d been driving for around four hours in complete silence, your head resting against the slightly smudged window, eyes trained on the outside world as it blurred past, a kaleidoscope of greens, browns and greys. Feet perched on your seat, your arms tucked atop your knees as you subconsciously made yourself as small as possible. You didn’t know how long left you had of the drive, and honestly, you didn’t care. He could keep driving forever and it wouldn’t matter to you.

“Y’alright?” Logan broke the long silence a little tentatively, his voice hushed as if not to disturb you. You found it vaguely amusing. He could shout at the top of his lungs and it wouldn’t disturb you. Not at the moment. You didn’t care. Didn’t even care to respond. It was a stupid fucking question anyway. You’d felt like this only once before. At least, only one time you could remember, if that was even real. And it was the days that followed after Jade’s death. A bus could have hit you and you wouldn’t have been able to find it in yourself to care.

Logan sighed through his nose. Stealing a glance at your huddled form, staring unblinking out the window, he went to rest his hand on your shoulder but thought better of it as you tensed. Seeing you like this, so utterly devoid of emotion, was almost jarring. He was used to seeing your smile and hearing your laugh. Fuck, even when you lost control and tried to kill him was better than this. At least he could smell the fear on you. But he couldn’t smell anything right now. Just the oil of the engine and dust of the seats. You’d faded. Not just your personality or your mental state, but everything about you had faded. Suppressed. This was nothing like when you lost control. He had an idea of how to bring you back then. But this?

He was way out of his depth.

“Talk to me,” he urged quietly, and he thought his pleas had fallen on deaf ears until you finally raised your head, turning to look at him blankly.

“About what?” Though your voice was completely flat, he was still glad to hear it. If he could get a response out of you, then perhaps he could bring you back after all. If he could just get you to talk to him…

“Anythin’. How you’re feelin’. What you’re thinkin’. We have a long ways to go yet.”

Your shrug wasn’t exactly what he was looking for. “So? You’ve never had a problem with silence before.” It was all he was going to get out of you before you returned to leaning against the window, your vacant eyes falling to watch the grey skies beyond. Suffocating quiet consumed the truck once again, only the hum of the wheels against the tarmac acted as a symphony for your thoughts. “Ya know what’s fucked?”

Logan almost jumped as you talked again, not expecting you to continue the conversation. Though he couldn’t say he wasn’t glad. “I don’t even know what’s real. If it was all a simulation… I don’t even know if this is real. If you’re real. Or just another sick twisted plot produced to make me believe I’m living a life that I’m not.” It was a thought that had plagued your mind since the raid. If everything in your past had been a lie, how did you know any of this wasn’t just more bullshit spun to widen the web?

Stretching out his hand, this time he didn’t hesitate to pry your own from your folded arms, clasping your knuckles in his palm. “‘M real, sweetheart. This is real. We’re real.” He held his breath, waiting for you to pull away from his touch, but you didn’t. Instead, you raised your head from the window again, offering him a small smile that didn’t even come close to reaching your eyes. He squeezed your hand and found a kernel of hope kindle in his heart as you weakly squeezed back. You’d be okay. He’d make certain of it. It didn’t matter how long it took, or what he’d have to do. He wouldn’t stop until you were okay. “Get some rest, we’ll be on the road for a while.” He pulled your hand up to his face, pressing a light kiss against the front of your wrist where the scars from your past fed into the present, before interlacing his fingers with yours.

“Logan?” your voice was barely audible, timid in a way that had him fighting the urge to pull over, gather you in his arms and hold you until all of this blew over and you could be safe again.

“Mmm?” was all he could say instead, always ready to listen.

“You–” you paused, finding the words heavy in your throat and stuck on your tongue. You hated feeling like this. Feeling the need to be reassured. Hated coming across as insecure or needy, but just this once, you needed to know. “You’re not gonna leave, right?”

Wordlessly, Logan flattened your hand over the centre of his chest, and you felt his heartbeat beneath your fingers. “Not whilst this is still beating.”

It was the first emotion you’d felt since waking up, and you couldn’t stop a silent tear slide down your cheek. His devotion to you incarnate, beating beneath your palm. You knew the weight of his words, and felt their meaning in your soul. He wasn’t going to leave you. Not now. Not ever. And it was one of your fears put to rest, knowing that he wasn’t one for lying.

“Okay.” You responded quietly, your free arm shifting to hug your knees whilst he returned your other, not letting go of your hand. And you found you didn’t want him to. You were afraid earlier that any kind of touch would send you into a spiral, but now he held your hand in yours, you never wanted him to let go.

“Sleep, firefly. I’ll wake you when we get there.” He hushed, and you nodded, curling up against the humming door, letting the soft vibrations of the truck lull you to sleep.

True to his word, a slight shake to your shoulder had you jolting awake, eyes flying open, heart racing as you tried your best to gauge your surroundings as quickly as you could.

“‘S okay,” Logan soothed, and your breathing calmed slightly, whatever dreams had been haunting your unconscious mind faded into nothing with each swipe of his thumb against your shoulder. “We’re here.”

Your eyes scanned the woods beyond the windscreen as he opened his door, the hinges squeaking with age. It was dark out, meaning you’d been on the road for at least eight hours and four of those you’d been asleep for. There was the distinct smell of cigarette smoke clinging to the upholstery of the seats, and you looked down at the source, a burnt-out cigar lay discarded in the central unit, brown paper blackened at the roach.

The door to your right opened and Logan offered you his hand. It wasn’t that you needed help, and you really fucking hoped he knew that, but you took it simply as an excuse to touch him as you stepped out of the truck, the smell of pine needles hitting you almost instantly as your feet touched soft earth. Wherever he’d taken you, this was certainly off-grid. It was so peaceful here. To the point where you’d surpassed tranquillity and landed right back into unease. It was too peaceful here.

“Where are we?” You asked as Logan retrieved both rucksacks from the back seat, mindful not to slam the door shut before locking up the truck. Swinging both backs across each of his shoulders, he took your hand again, leading you around the hood of the truck and you finally saw your new halls of residence.

A sizeable pinewood log cabin. Dark on the inside, but it looked homely enough. A small pair of antlers adorned the front door, piles of firewood stacked neatly beneath little shelters around to the left. You could imagine this as a forest getaway for some rich family who owned several yachts and a sports car. But when Logan produced a thick iron key from his pocket, you blinked. “Is this yours?”

It was the most emotion he’d heard from you since he’d started driving eight hours ago, your words delicately laced with surprise. He smiled back over his shoulder. “Belonged to an old friend, left it to me when he passed.” He wasn’t ready to launch into that whole story, not yet. You had enough to deal with without him banging on about his own past. Sliding the key into the lock, he turned it anti-clockwise until the iron gave way, giving the door a gentle shove as it swung open. It definitely needed doing up, but he was happy to do that himself. “Home sweet home,” he murmured, vaguely hoping all the electrics still worked as he flicked the light switch.

The cabin was illuminated in a soft orange glow, the faux candles on the walls giving the same ambience as torch flame. The interior was cosier than you could possibly have imagined. A comfy-looking, though slightly faded brown sofa faced a broad hearth with yet another stack of kindling piled next to it, a red and green tartan print blanket draped over the back of the sofa. Logan shrugged off his jacket, hanging it on one of the multiple cast iron coat pegs lining the wall by the door, setting the rucksacks down next to the dark wood dining table. There were no arches or doorways that you could see, an open floor plan joining the small, rural kitchen area to the lounge.

A set of stairs led up to another floor behind the hearth, various antlers and horns of different woodland animals hung on almost every available wall, as well as a TV, which you weren’t expecting. Every cupboard looked identical, even the fridge, learning which one it was due to Logan immediately grabbing out two bottles of larger for you both.

You smiled as you inhaled, and recognised the distinctive amalgamation of smells. It was him. Pure, unfiltered Logan.

Crossing to one of the windows, you ran your fingers over the corrugated radiator, noticing the various blankets and pillows set up on the windowsill looking out into the dark green woodland beyond, brown woollen tassels hanging a little too close to the heater, to the point where you tucked them in. Staring out into the forest, you held your arm tightly until Logan’s arm wrapped around your shoulder, tucking you into his side and handing you the second bottle of golden liquid.

“What’ya think?” He asked, pressing a kiss to the top of your head, and you moved your hand from your arm to hold his wrist against your shoulder.

“It’s very you.” You offered as much mischief as you could muster, which wasn’t much considering your circumstances, and unfortunately resulted in a confused raise of his brow.

“That’s a good thing, right?”

You huffed an exhausted chuckle, pressing your head into the space between his shoulder and chest. “Yeah. It’s a good thing.” You breathed, before raising the bottle to your lips and taking a long sip of the icy cold beverage. He held you in silence, offering to be whatever you needed him to be, and for right now, you just needed him close to you. You didn’t know what had happened in the past, and you didn’t know what was going to happen. You couldn’t hide forever, and there would come a day where you would have to face the contents of that folder. But it was enough for now just knowing you weren’t alone, and when that time came, you wouldn’t be alone.

“There’s a bathroom down the hall or you can use the ensuite upstairs if you wanna freshen up. I can get started on makin’ dinner, should have some preservatives lyin’ around somewhere.” He looked towards the cupboards and you wished you had the energy or emotional bank to tease him properly about his cooking. But you didn’t need to, he looked back at your face of slight mock disbelief, a small, almost bashful smile pulling at the corner of his lips. “I’ve picked up a few things over the last couple months.”

He didn’t resist as you weakly shoved at him, his smile widening as you showed small signs of your old self before your eyes took on that faraway look again and you retreated back into your protective shell. He knew it was a defence mechanism, he’d seen it in the kids now and then. When things got overwhelming or something went wrong, they’d shut themselves away behind emotional walls, appearing almost hollow before he’d sit them down and pry their emotions out one thread at a time. It nearly always resulted in them sobbing their eyes out, but it was a tried and true method.

One he was planning on using on you when he felt the time was right. You couldn’t shut yourself away forever. He wouldn’t let you, for one. There was no future where your past wins over and you remain this way. Even if it resulted in you drowning the cabin in shadow as you lost control, he didn’t care. In this state, any emotion is a good emotion.

Setting down your bottle, you clung to his wrist for as long as you could before the increasing distance forced you to let go to retrieve your rucksack. You’d packed essentials, being under a strict time limit. A few spare pairs of clothes, toothbrush and toothpaste, cleanser, moisturiser, a Swiss army knife and as much underwear as you could stuff in the little space that remained at the top. You swing the bag over your shoulder, heading to the stairs before Logan caught your forearm.

“Shout if you need anything. I’ll be right here, ‘kay?” He looked so sincere, so serious it almost broke you. The first time he’d said those words to you, you’d laughed them off, teasing him for being overprotective. You couldn’t find the energy to do the same now, thinking back to how things had changed so much in the last day or so. Well, since you returned, really. You simply nodded in response, attempting to offer him a smile that could ease his worries but clearly failing miserably as his brows pinched in concern.

You had nothing left to give him, your emotional reservoir completely drained. So you simply turned away to head up the stairs, guilt gnawing at your chest. You didn’t want him to worry about you. Fuck, you hated it when he worried about you. Even about mundane things, you’d wave off his concerns. But you knew this was an issue that couldn’t be solved by telling him to ‘take his concerns elsewhere’ because where else would he go? You’d pried him away from his home, from his friends and teammates because he had some twisted obligation towards you. It was selfish of you to ask if he was going to leave. You’d all but trapped him into staying by asking that very question. He was too good of a man to say no, he was going to dump you off and dip.

You hated it. Hated how much he was giving up for you. You didn’t deserve any of this, and he certainly deserved so much more. A wall erupted in your mind, locking your guilt away with everything else you were supposed to be feeling at the moment, your heart once again emptying of the hurt it had felt, leaving you with blissful numbness.

Cresting the top of the stairs, you were faced with one of the homeliest scenes in the house. A large four-poster bed piled high with various pillows, cushions and blankets stood against the back wall, yet another window seat snuggled against the window straight ahead of you, overlooking the opposite side of the forest. Two hunting rifles, one barrel crossed over the other, hung triumphantly above the headboard, yet another set of antlers positioned between the two guns, larger than the other sets you’d seen yet. You couldn’t imagine the choice of decor was Logan’s idea, at least you vaguely hoped it wasn’t, but it made you wonder who this place originally belonged to.

Your shoulder went limp as you carelessly dropped your bag to the floor at the foot of the bed, turning to your left to see the door to the bathroom slightly ajar. Crossing over the thick rug on the floor, you pulled the door open, eyes widening in slight surprise. It was a lot bigger than you’d expected for an ensuite. A large bathtub took up most of the space, the shower standing right next to it. You were glad they weren’t one and the same, for some reason you had a vendetta against bathtubs that doubled up as a shower. Maybe the reason lay in that fucking folder, who knows?

Stripping yourself of your sweaty clothes, you cracked the window open, allowing fresh air to circulate around the room before fiddling with the taps and switches of the electric shower. You wondered how often Logan visited, considering how well kept the place was, and how well everything still worked. Steam rolled from the shower into the rest of the bathroom as you stepped beneath the stream, your skin tingling with the heat. It was a pleasant sensation, to feel something other than all-consuming guilt, sinking despondency or nothing at all. You cranked up the dial on the temperature, hissing slightly as the water increased from warm to scalding, staining your skin red raw.

The feeling was addictive, turning ever so often to get that kick of pain on whichever side of your body wasn’t beneath the volcanic stream, inhaling as the pain drowned every other sensation in your chest and head. There was no room for anything else other than the burning against your flesh. You only wished you could turn the dial further, but it seemed you’d reached the maximum.

It could have been anywhere between a few minutes and twenty years before Logan came up to check on you, you’d lost complete track of time. There was a soft knock at the door, a vague call of your name you barely heard and partially ignored in favour of getting lost in the heat. At what point you dropped to the floor, knees hugged against your chest, you couldn’t recall, eyes too focused on the pattern of the droplets against the tiled floor to look up as he entered.

“Christ it’s like a sauna in here, can’t fuckin’ see anyth–” He stopped instantly as he saw you huddled on the floor in the same position you’d spent a good portion of the journey in. But that wasn’t what scared him. It was the angry red of your skin that had alarm bells ringing loudly in his head. He rolled up the sleeve of his flannel shirt, preparing to plunge his hand through the cascading fall to switch the power off. But the moment his skin came in contact with the water, he hissed loudly. “Fuck! ‘S fuckin’ scalding sweetheart.” You didn’t move. Didn’t even look as if you’d noticed him. Panic surged in his veins, gritting his teeth tightly as he endured the searing burn of the lava stream to twist the handle for power, taking a breath as the waterfall eased from a deluge to mere droplets.

Only then did you look up, as if snapped from a daze. He crouched before you as you blinked at him, remembering where you were and what you were doing. However, what you should say in this moment never came to you, only able to stare straight ahead at him, his pinched brows and wide-eyed concern only fuelling the self-loathing in your gut. You hated the way he touched you so gently as if you deserved to be touched like that. You despised the way he draped a large, fluffy towel around your shoulders as if you’d done anything to warrant such comforts.

And you couldn’t stand the way he hooked his arms beneath your knees and carried you from the bathroom, all without a single word. And you loathed how your body reacted, leaning into his touches like you had any right to comfort. You’d all but dragged him away from the life he’d built for himself. Dragged him away from people like Marie and Bobby. Fuck, you couldn’t even think about them right now. You’d stolen one of Marie’s best friends from her, how could you ever go back there now?

Would you ever go back there now? You hadn’t even thought about it. Most likely not. Why would they let you? You’d killed a team member, been sent away for two years, lost control of your mutation, tried to kill not only another team member but the man you love, and have been lying to everyone you’d ever met because the life you thought you’d lived never fucking existed and it turns out you were over eighty fucking years old. Scott was right.

He should have killed you years ago.

“Lemme grab some aloe gel…” you’d been so lost in your head you hadn’t even noticed Logan removing the towel from your shoulders to inspect the raging raw burns on your back and arms. You barked a harsh, joyless laugh.

“Why? What does it matter?” you asked savagely, and Logan turned from where he stood near the bathroom doorway, slowly looking at you in suspicious bewilderment. “I mean, I can just heal, so who cares? I’ll just disappear into shadow and come back good as new, so don’t bother.” You shrugged, feeling burning hatred bubble in your gut. “That is, if I come back out at all, of course. Because that threat still hangs over my head every fucking day.” The shadows writhed with your growing fury, only furthering your tirade of self-deprecation. “And hey, would ya look at that, my mutation only fucking works when I’m insanely pissed off. And I lose control completely when I’m terrified, my only fucking instinct being to survive. How fucked up is that?” You continued, laughing bitterly as you stood from the bed. “Probably some result of whatever the hell is recorded in that file. Eighty years, by the way. Eighty fucking years. Here I was, the fucking asshole who thought she was thirty-two. Imagine that?” Your fingers found your scalp, scratching desperately at the roots of your hair as if to claw your way into your own mind and pry out your memories. “And you just seem to be fucking fine with everything!”

Logan didn’t so much as flinch as you directed your inferno of rage toward him. Sure, his heart shattered with your every word, but not because they hurt him.

“I’ve lied to you. For the past couple of months, I’ve straight-up been lying to your face. About everything! I’ve dragged you away from your friends, from your family, all because I manipulated you into thinking you owed me fucking anything. All those bullshit sob stories are lies. None of them even happened. And ya know what? I can’t even say if that’s true or not because I don’t fucking know.” You gestured to your surroundings wildly, laughing manically as the shadows whipped out from the walls like vines. You always knew the day would come when you completely lost your mind.

“I killed the woman I loved because I couldn’t control myself. I tried my fucking damnest to kill you too, because it seems I just fucking bleed toxicity. And I don’t even know how twisted that makes you for still being here. For still caring. It’s fucking pathetic. I tried to fucking kill you, and all I can see is your ridiculous, unwavering sense of devotion. Do you know how fucked up that makes you? How little must your self-worth be that you’re still here? That is if this isn’t just another simulation created to test my mental durability because who fucking knows at this point? I sure as shit don’t. And ya know what’s worse? No matter what happens, I still have to read that fucking folder. Because we sure as hell can’t hide out here forever, and the only way I can even begin to understand anything is the one thing I can’t bring myself to do.

“So instead, instead I’ll just make everyone suffer along with me. Strength in numbers, right? I’ll just force you to isolate yourself away instead of getting the fuck on with it and reading that fucking file. Nah, I’d rather torture the people I care about, because that’s just what happens. That’s what always fucking happens. And I can’t seem to stop,” your hands returned to your hair as you slowed down, squeezing the sides of your head as if to silence your mind. “It never seems to stop. It’s all just so fucking loud. I just want it to stop… I just want everything to stop…” You sank to the floor, drawing your knees up to your chest, your back pressed against the end of the bed. “I’m so tired, Logan. I’m so fucking tired.” Your voice faded to a whisper as you screwed your eyes shut, your mind still a roaring tornado of anguish and heartbreak. You didn’t want to hurt him. Fuck, that was the last thing you wanted to do, but you did it in a desperate bid to keep him safe. Maybe, if you sank enough knives into his chest, he’d walk away. The shadows receded into their natural places as you withdrew back behind the walls inside your head.

Logan thought he’d seen vulnerability before, both in you and in others. But the way you looked now, naked, trembling on the floor, your head tucked behind your knees, hands clawing at your own hair…

Nothing could have prepared him for that.

He said nothing, silently crossing the floor to kneel next to you. Softly, he removed your nails from your hair, setting your arms limp by your side as he cupped either side of your jaw, raising your head to look at him. Tears flowed freely from your eyes as you desperately searched his face. What for, he didn’t know, but he let you look. He let you hunt in the corners of his brows, digging around the slope of his nose, finally returning to his eyes. What you found, or rather didn’t find, pulled a sob from your chest, and he tucked your face beneath his chin. Wrapping his arms around your naked body, he just held you as stuttered sob after stuttered sob wracked your body.

Grief was a funny old thing. Always lurking around the corner, rearing its bittersweet head when you least expected it. You cried. You cried for Jade. You cried for Rowan. You cried for the other members of NLMO. You cried for Kitty, and her guilt for hating you. You cried for Ororo, having been burdened with the knowledge not even you wanted to know about yourself.

You cried for Logan. Holy shit did you cry for Logan. You didn’t want this for him. Only the previous morning was he talking about being a normal couple and doing ‘normal couple things’, and now he was stuck in a relationship with a woman who didn’t even know who she was. Who didn’t know what parts of her were real and what parts were fabricated? Your voice scratched your throat raw, every breath like rusty nails in your lungs as you sobbed harder than you ever remember in your life, both real and fake.

And he held you through all of it, gently whispering sweet nothings against your damp, tangled hair, soothing soft caresses against your bare skin with his calloused hands, fingertips grazing every scar he could reach, from the healed burn on your calf to the serrated needle in your neck. His hatred for the Kreva’s only grew with each newly discovered scar on your body, even as your full-bodied cries quietened to mere hiccups of despair.

Tentatively he drew your head away from his damp neck, using his thumb to wipe away the salty lines carved down one side of your face, and using his little finger for the other. “C’mon firefly, let’s get you changed. Gotta do somethin’ ‘bout these burns too…”

You shook your head with teary incredulity. “I don’t understand… why are you still doing this? Why do you still care? After everything I've just said. After everything I’ve done… why?”

“Because I love you.”

Your mind fell completely silent as you stared up at him in utter, petrified shock. “What…?” you managed to whisper, to his slight knowing smile.

“I love you.”

You shook your head again, though this time you looked horrified. “You’re insane.”

Logan nodded as if he already knew this. Of course, he was insane. But not simply because he loved you. He was insane because if anything happened to you, nothing and nowhere would be safe from him. He would walk through hell itself to get you back, and make as many deals with as many devils as he needed to. What was insane was the lengths he would go through to protect you.

“Who am I, Logan? You read the folder, you’ve seen everything… how can you love what’s in there? Who am I?” You almost pleaded with him, and he caught the sides of your neck in his palms.

“‘M gonna need you to listen real close, okay? That folder doesn’t define you. You are who you are in spite of what’s in that folder. I didn’t read all of it… I– I don’t know if I can. But from the reports I did see, you’re still you. You were almost killed because you stepped between your brother and four bullets to the chest, and I’ll be fuckin’ damned if I said you wouldn’t do that with who you are now. What you endured is fuckin’ harrowing, I’ll be honest. There were very few happy moments from what I saw, and fuck, if you don’t you deserve to be happy, none of the rest of us do.

“I don’t know if I’d read that entire folder if you gave the rest of my life, which I’m thinkin’ is a real long time. But if that’s how long it takes for you to read it, I’ll gladly spend the rest of my days with you. I don’t give a shit where we are. At the school, in this cabin, hell, we could be squatting under a bridge for all I care. I’m tired of being too damn scared of saying I love you. Because I fuckin’ do. And you’re crazy if you think any of this changes a goddamn thing about how I feel.”

It was your turn to be rendered completely speechless. Somehow, in one fell swoop, he’d put the fears that hovered around your head concerning him to rest. The terror that he was going to leave you, the fear that you weren’t good enough, that you didn’t deserve him melted away as you peered into his hazel eyes shining with such conviction you wanted to sob into his arms all over again.

“You love me?” you asked a little diffidently, and Logan rolled his eyes with a small smile lifting the corner of his mouth.

“It wasn’t obvious? I love you. And before you ask; yes. This is real.” you blew out a breath as he answered your question before you’d even had a chance. How did he know you so well? His hands moved from either side of your neck to your waist, helping you back onto your feet. You continued staring at him in awestruck adoration, still unable to quite believe what he’d said. He loved you. You don’t know why it came as such a shock, he’d shown you almost every day since you danced in the kitchen. Probably before that, in the way, he’d helped redesign your room. In the care he’d taken to learn about your mutation and adapt your new living situation accordingly before he even met you. Before he even believed you existed.

You followed almost blindly as he led you back into the bathroom, opening the cabinet behind the mirror and retrieving what he went to get before you exploded in front of him. Turning you around, he swiped your hair to one side, and you winced slightly at the cooling balm touching your shoulders, his hands gently kneading at the stiff muscles. The aloe took almost instant effect, soothing the angry burns left behind by your shower.

He worked in comfortable silence, snapping the lid back of the bottle and placing it back on the shelf when he was done. His fingertips grazed up and down your slickened arm, before placing both hands back on your shoulders and guiding you back out the bathroom to sit atop the bed.

“I love you, too.”

Logan froze. Though it seemingly came out of nowhere, you’d said it like you’d wanted to say it for a long, long time. In the moment, he didn’t think he’d cared all that much that you hadn’t said it back to him, but hearing you say those words now, those words he’d been yearning to hear since he first set eyes on you and you teased him for something or other filled him with a warm sense of belonging.

You smiled and his heart stopped as your eyes shone along with it. How did he get so damn lucky?

Bending at the waist, he tilted your head up with a finger beneath your chin, his other hand braced against your cheek as he moulded his lips against your own, finding an instant, slow rhythm. And if he hadn’t known you were utterly exhausted, he’d have you there and then, gasping and whimpering on his cock. But he could tell by the way you kissed him back, you were shattered. Not that he was in any rush. From the looks of things, it seemed like the two of you would be hiding away for some time.

Pulling away a fraction, Logan reached for the clothes he’d pulled out for you earlier from his closet before he interrupted your shower. It wasn’t anything spectacular, just a pair of incredibly loose sweatpants and a faded t-shirt of his. He slipped the shirt over your head, biting back a smile as it all but hung off your shoulders, and you shot him a flat look.

“I have my own clothes, ya know?” You pretended you were reluctant, though showed no signs of hesitation when he opened the waistband of the sweatpants for you to step into, pulling the drawstring tight around your waist.

“I know.” Was all he responded, and you snorted a small laugh as he stepped back, almost to admire his work. You were positively drowning in fabric, the short sleeves of the t-shirt reaching your elbows, sweats hanging low off your hips. But it was comfy and smelt like him, so honestly it didn’t matter to you. “C’mon, I made soup.” He outstretched his hand toward you for you to take, which you did with a suspicious raise of your brow.

“You had fresh ingredients for soup?” You asked, following behind him as he led you back down the stairs, the crackling of the lit hearth filling you with a sense of cosy tranquillity you never expected to feel again, not after everything that had happened.

“A’ight so I found a couple cans of soup and heated 'em up, same difference.” As if being parted from you robbed him of breath, Logan brought you back into his arms, feeling his chest loosen when you didn’t resist the way he walked you over to the gas stove.

“I’m going to ignore that,” you instinctively took the wooden spoon from the rack of utensils to the right of the backsplash, stirring the bubbling pot and grimacing slightly as you felt the bottom of the pan. Definitely burnt. Though you couldn’t exactly blame that on him. He’d been a little preoccupied with making sure you didn’t plunge the cabin into suffocating shadow. “A gas stove in a wooden cabin is a bold choice.” You mentioned absently, turning the dial for the gas down and watching as the blue flame lessened beneath the iron pan. Logan set his chin atop your head, arms still circling your waist.

“Not my decision. Previous guy’s choice.” he offered as a means of explanation, and you shrugged in acceptance. Much like you thought with most of the decor in the cabin, whilst there were a few things you’d noticed that you were sure were his, the rest you couldn’t see being his interior design choices. Not that Logan had much interior design, even his room at the mansion was pretty barren.

Reaching above you, Logan pulled open one of the cupboards, keeping one of his arms still wrapped around your middle, and started rifling through the contents. There was a slight clatter of boxes before he pulled one of them out, setting it down on the counter. You eyed it curiously, a warm smile tugging at your lips as you read the italic cursive on the front of the box.

Honey and Chamomile tea. You dropped your head back against his chest, heart almost exploding when he left briefly to retrieve two mugs, one of them you knew like the back of his hand.

When the fuck had he found the time to grab your favourite mug? He stood next to you, gas clicking rhythmically as he went to light a second burner, the huff of ignition breaking you from your stare of wonder and watching as he placed the black kettle atop the flame. It was rudimentary, old school but you kind of liked it. It suited him.

Logan’s heart and eyes softened as he looked down at the top of your head resting against his bicep, not bothering to fight the urge to press a kiss to your hair.

“I love you.” You whispered, and the words struck him like a bolt of lightning, still completely unused to both saying and hearing them. He let the warmth in his chest wash over him, let the encompassing adoration flood his veins and fill his heart. He couldn’t be by your side in the past, couldn’t save you from the horrors you’d endured. But he was going to make damn sure he was there for your future, whether you’d stayed in the cabin or managed to return to the mansion, he’d ensure he was by your side for all of it.

Never again would you face these things alone.

“I love you, too.”

#wolverine x reader #logan x reader #logan howlett x reader #james logan howlett #logan howlett #x men logan #x men wolverine #x men x reader #logan howlett fanfiction #logan smut #the wolverine x reader #the wolverine #essa's works

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trblsvt · 2 years

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the long way | yoon jeonghan

summary | it was just like any other shoot. go in, pose, drink water, don't get food on the clothes, and don't joke around with the staff. easy. except it wasn't that easy. genre | just fluff, model!jeonghan warnings | swearing (?), like one innuendo word count | 2.2k words pairing | yoon jeonghan x gn!reader min | lowercase intended @i-luvsang likes to torture me with this concept so here it is. you're welcome. i may have diverged a little from your original concept... i actually don't think there's any language in here. i tried to make this gender-neutral, but if anyone finds a fem!reader pronoun please let me know!

jeonghan liked his job. really, he did. what was there to complain about it? it was an easy, not to mention, fun life. he liked traveling. he liked the different foods he got to try. he liked the nice clothes he got to wear during photoshoots. he would be lying if he said he never stole some of the clothes that he got to wear. he especially enjoyed chatting with the staff.

they were usually amiable with him and entertained his antics. sometimes he even got a genuine laugh out of a few photographers too.

but sometimes, just chatting was boring. especially when the conversations were cut short by photographers calling him back to get a few more shots or make-up artists coming up to him to touch up his make-up. so jokes in between shots and lipstick touch-ups were a must.

today was no different. he had to advertise for the brand that he was an ambassador for, and he was thoroughly enjoying himself. the clothes were comfortable, the air temperature was just right, and his audience was readily accepting of his jokes.

half of the time he couldn't remember the point of his jokes. he just said whatever came to mind. sometimes he was monologuing his thoughts and people would laugh. it did boost his ego, though. his inner voice was funny enough to garner laughs without even trying

as jeonghan was setting up for another shot, the photographer asked him to fix his stance. "i need you to spread your legs a bit more, jeonghan," the photographer asked. jeonghan had worked with him a few times, so he felt comfortable cracking a slightly inappropriate joke. "wow, mingyu, i thought you'd ask me out on a date first. already trying to get between my legs," jeonghan chuckled, fixing his stance. mingyu only rolled his eyes and went back to adjusting his camera settings.

that joke got a few laughs.

but it was jeonghan. he needed at least seventy-five percent of the staff to laugh at least one of his jokes. what else was he supposed to do when he was there? stand there and look good, yes, but no.

besides, he needed to test his standup on a live unsuspecting audience.

so that's how the rest of the shoot went. jeonghan finding ways to make puns here and throw a few sexual innuendos there. he appeared to be a hit, and that's all he wanted.

that is until he made some half-assed joke that he didn't even think about when he heard something. something so.... attractive. a laugh. from someone who had not laughed at his jokes until the lamest one he had cracked all day. he glanced over his shoulder in the direction that he heard it and his eyes landed on you. you were covering your face with a hand while the other clutched a tray of drinks and a binder tucked under your arm.

he made eye contact and quirked an eyebrow at you. you instantly averted your gaze to the ground and fumbled around for your phone.

cute, he thought.

he needed to hear it again.

for the remaining hour on set he tried and tried to get to you laugh again, but much to his dismay you were on the phone for most of the time.

soon enough he was out of the clothes and into his regular day clothes. the stylist quickly removed the extravagant make-up, and he swiftly grabbed his bag so he could find you.

as he ran out of the dressing room and onto the set. he scanned the room in search of you, and caught a glimpse of your silhouette walking out the door toward the city and not toward the back where the cars were. "jeonghan, are you coming?" his manager called to him. "the car is waiting." jeonghan shook his head and watched as the door closed behind you. "i'm actually going to walk home today. this was the last activity scheduled today, right?" jeonghan stated. even if it wasn't the last thing he had to do today, he had more important things in mind.

"uh, yes, that's all. but are sure you want to walk alone?" his manager questioned.

"i think bringing people with me garners more attention than me just walking by myself," he shrugged. so with that he swung his coat over his shoulders, hat on head, and left the same way you went.

he saw the back of your head make its way through the surprisingly empty street. he checked his watch and realized that it was right before rush hour. he jogged to catch up with you.

he was so close to you now. he could probably reach out and grab your hand if he wanted to, but that would be weird. he didn't even know your name.

how could he even approach you? "hi i'm jeonghan. i thought your laugh was pretty-" wait was that too personal? too forward?

he was so deep in thought, he didn't notice the way you tensed up when he got too close. suddenly you whipped around, "are you following me?"

he paused with a wide-eyed look plastered on his face. this was not the way it was supposed to go. "well, yes. but, not- not in the weird way," he tried to clarify. he looked slightly frantic, he looked worried. you examined his distinctive features. "oh, mr. yoon. i didn't recognize you with your hat on," you laughed.

there it was.

"please, just jeonghan is fine," he assured.

"okay, just jeonghan."

ha, you were pretty witty too. he held out his hand for you to shake. "___," you introduced yourself.

amazing.

"are you on your way to anything important?" he asked after looking at you for a bit longer. you glanced down at your phone and around the street. "i was actually going back to the office to drop this off," you said motioning to the large file bag you held.

"i can accompany you, if you want," jeonghan offered. "if you're not too weirded out by me at this point."

"oh, no. i'm not weirded out. i'm just surprised. i mean, you are a model. models i usually work with don't talk with staff much," you mentioned before starting off walking again. he followed quickly behind you. "so would you say i'm different from other models you've met," he asked playfully.

"yes i suppose. for one, models don't usually joke around on set as much as you do," you noted, glancing down at your phone hoping he wouldn't notice how he was making your heart speed up. "they're a bit too serious sometimes. you were nice though."

jeonghan felt a bit proud of that.

he filled the rest of the walk with pleasant conversation. lightly brushing against your arm. he got you to laugh about ten more times through the walk.

yes, he was counting.

you took him through the park and chatted

"well, this is me," you said standing in front of the large building. he looked up, and he instantly recognized the logo plastered on the door. "wait, you work for-" he started.

"yes, i work for the brand that you are an ambassador for," you giggled. "why else would i be at the shoot? did i not mention all the other models i've had to worked with?"

jeonghan was utterly baffled. "yes. i mean you did. i just, i don't know i wasn't really focused on that part. maybe you just wanted to see a handsome man like myself," he tried to recover.

"well, seeing handsome men like yourself is in my job description. i have to make sure our ambassadors are representing us well," you nudged his arm, and he felt like he could burst with joy.

"well i didn't expect someone as attractive as yourself would work for a place like corporate," he attempted at gaining his confidence back. it appeared to work.

you scoffed lightheartedly and looked away from him. "you flatter me too much, jeonghan," you laughed and looked back at him. suddenly you heard your name being called. "___! there you are, i've been looking for you for the past hour," your co-worker (well more like friend since you had known her since forever) called. you glanced between her and jeonghan. "hey, i'm sorry. i got a little - distracted," you explained apologetically to your obviously frazzled friend.

"really, its my fault. i must've made the walk a bit slower. the park was just so nice today," jeonghan commented, glancing at you hoping that you would look back at him again.

"the park? that's the long way around, you could've taken-" your friend started before you clasped your hands on her shoulders. "well, i seriously do have to bring this back to my manager. thank you for walking with me, it was very kind of you," you said smiling at him.

"of course," he smiled. he held your eyes for a moment before you chuckled quietly and turned away with your friend. "goodbye," he called after you.

"bye," you replied back, only turning your head slightly towards him. you exchanged hushed whispers as the two of you made your way up to the entrance. "isn't that yoon jeonghan?" your friend quizzed. "he's the one who was at the shoot you went to, right? why'd you take him through the park? you know that's the long way. it adds like fifteen minutes to your walk."

"yeah, yeah, i know, he was just so easy to talk to. i needed an excuse to talk to him longer. plus, his laugh was super cute," you remarked.

it had been maybe an hour or two since you had said your goodbye to jeonghan downstairs. you hadn't been able to stop thinking about him. how sweet and kind he was. he wasn't too full of himself like some of the other models were, but confident enough to make your heart beat a bit faster than usual. to top it all off, he was genuinely funny too.

you weren't exactly sure how you were supposed to just - forget about him. you worked with many models for the past few years, and sure most of them were nice. just not as nice as jeonghan.

you checked the clock and realized that there were only about thirty minutes left until you could clock out. maybe if you showered when you got home you could get jeonghan's cologne out of your senses.

as you sent your last email of the day and logged out of your computer, you began to gather your things from your desk. unfortunately, you were a bit too preoccupied to notice how the room outside of your office stilled. you were grabbing a few things that fell onto the floor.

then you heard someone clear their throat from your door. "uh, ___, someone is here to see you," one of your other co-workers said.

"uh, i just clocked out, but i can definitely add them on my calendar first thing tomorr-" you trailed off as you lifted your head and saw jeonghan standing outside your office behind the very nervous-looking receptionist.

"i'm afraid that won't work for me," jeonghan sighed absentmindedly looking around your office, hands clasped behind his back.

"mina, you can go," you told the receptionist. mina nodded and ran off. jeonghan stepped into your office and gently closed the door. "this is a surprise, mr. yoon," you said standing up.

"hopefully a welcome one," he joked. "and please, i was gone for a couple hours and you forgot i'm just jeonghan?" you stifled a laugh. "please do not feel like you need to contain you laughter from me, ___," he assured. you nodded a silent, but happy, agreement. "well, jeonghan. what is the occasion for this visit? were you unhappy with something today during the shoot?" you asked, approaching him. "and if tomorrow morning does not work to discuss this matter, i can figure something else out or i-"

"no. it's actually the opposite. i had a great time today. i think my only complaint is that you have not been there for the past few times i've modeled for this brand," he said getting closer to you. you could smell his cologne again and you knew you were in for it. "also, tomorrow morning won't work because i wanted to see if you were free tonight to get dinner with me, that is, unless you prefer breakfast," he smiled.

you were dumbfounded.

jeonghan was here. after hours. asking you out on a date. he was funny, kind, and not to mention quite attractive. you had been thinking about him for the whole day daydreaming about him, and he was here looking very handsome and very sincere. and who were you to decline such a tempting offer?

"how would you know that i would say yes?" you asked as the two of you walked out of the building.

"well for one, you didn't take the subway like a normal person would. secondly, you added a whole extra fourteen minutes to your walk because you skipped the subway and went through the park," he shrugged.

"were you counting?" you giggled and nudged his shoulder playfully.

"and what if i was? and what if i was counting every time you laughed at something i said today? what if i said that was the fifteenth time i've made you laugh today?"

"i might have to kiss you then."

"please do."

min | wow. that was sort of disgustingly cute. am i good a fluff, maybe? im softening with age i think. leave feedback and reblog if you want! it's appreciated. not proofread

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temis-de-leon · 5 months

Text

Day 8 - Unwanted kiss

Characters: Diavolo x fem!MC

25 kisses challenge Masterlist

Main Masterlist

CW: non consensual kiss, implied other types of sexual harassment (not from Diavolo's nor MC's part), MC defends herself, pre-established relationship

There were a dozen reasons that could explain MC’s presence in his office. Did she miss him? It wouldn’t be the first time she visited him out of the blue with a wide smile, hands locked behind her back with a certain innocence that made him put his paperwork aside in order to pay her attention.

Sometimes she'd need his help for homework and in what universe would he say no? Of course, there were also the official meetings, but having part, if not all, of the brothers and his butler there made bonding time with her barely impossible.

No, Diavolo perfectly knew he very much preferred their private meetings, the ones where he could ask about her daily life without an audience and where her eyes were fixed exclusively on him.

So when he heard a knock and the one to enter was MC, he couldn’t help but smile immediately. However, her sour expression made him stop in his tracks. She was pulling the hem of her pleaded skirt down and her hair looked messier than ever.

“MC?” he called, but she wouldn’t raise her head.

Diavolo was in the middle of getting up to console her when she handed him a slip of paper showing a familiar signature and RAD’s official stamp. He grabbed it and read it, his face unpleasantly serious and stomach churning in worry. The signature belonged to one of the professors and his message described, amongst a myriad of insults to the human race, how MC had been seen punching a fellow classmate.

He gasped in surprise, instantly setting his gaze on her. MC still didn’t seem able to look at him.

“Is this true, MC? You punched another student?”

She sighed heavily, crossing her arms before finally locking eyes with him and nodding in silence. In a subtle movement that didn’t escape his notice, she pulled her skirt down again. It didn’t take him too long to put two and two together, and when it did, nausea hit him like a train.

Then anger.

He forced himself to stay calm, not wanting to aggravate her further, and the teacher’s notice, which he’d make sure to revise later, slipped through his fingers and fell to the carpeted floor. MC’s hands met his and he felt the primal, dark and visceral, need to keep her close.

“I’m afraid you will have to explain to me exactly what happened, MC. What did he do…?”

“He kissed me” she interrupted him, but would not let go of his hands. Not that he minded it. The sickening tendrils of jealousy filled his guts for just a second before he pushed them down. It was not what she needed at the moment.

“He’s part of my fanclub and has been asking me out for days, but I always said no. He asked again today, but I had a test and I was tired and I wasn’t in the mood to be nice and he had the brilliant thought of kissing me as a way to finally get me to accept his proposal… So I punched him. And the teacher saw, I guess, so now I’m grounded”

Diavolo listened carefully at her nervous monologue, discreetly caressing her knuckles while walking towards the sofa and sitting down next to her. She didn’t seem to be afraid, just frustrated and profoundly disgusted.

“I’m deeply sorry, MC”

“You don’t need to apologize...”

“Allow me to do it still”

He felt his cheeks heating up, the warmth only increasing when he bent down to kiss the back of her hands and her fingers let go of his to cradle his face and scratch the back of his neck.

There was nothing he wanted more in the three realms than stay next to her and enjoy her touch, but it wasn’t the moment.

“Wait for me here”

He got up, straightening his uniform.

“Where are you going?”

MC stayed on the couch and the distance between them felt impossibly long. He bent down, constraining himself to kiss her on the lips as to not remind her of the recent experience, and spoke in a whisper.

“I’m going to personally take care of them”

Taglist: @ourfinalisation @owlisbuffering @chizukimp4 @ravenredwine @darkflowerav @beatlebeesstuff @mehkers

#obey me #obey me! shall we date?#om! shall we date #om! swd #obey me x reader #obey me x female reader #obey me diavolo #obey me diavolo x reader #diavolo x reader #obey me fluff #obey me hurt/comfort #obey me writing #obey me drabble #25 kisses challenge

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midnightsunnyday · 2 months

Text

Whips, Cuffs, And Edible Thongs? (Part One) '*•.¸♡ ♡¸.•*'

A/N: so does anyone (over the age of 21, obviously) browse adult toys with their friends? Is that just me? Well, yesterday my friends and I went to a toy shop for the hell of it and laughed at the improbably large and adorably small um, "items" they had on display, and in between our playful banter, for some reason I got the crazy thought to make a headcanon about it.

Warnings: obviously NSFW and MDNI. Mentions of various kinks, sex toys, and cursing. MC is in a polyamorous relationship with all the brothers btw. Definitely a crack headcanon.

*MCs overly dramatic monologue begins*

It was a risk, coming here alone, yet the reward would be worth the treacherous journey. I left the House of Lamentation under the cover of dusk, dawned in my best disguise. I stayed low, keeping shadows close. I snuck through alleys, crept down streets, jumping, paranoid. I could trust no one. Rely on no one. For this was a mission I must tread alone.

Finally, my destination was in view. The shop was not unlike the others surrounding it, except for the black and pink sign offering something a bit more...stimulating. I grabbed the handle, pushing slowly, only to be washed in a flood of pink neon and the scent of roses.

"Welcome to Cleo's Circle, hun. Tell me, what's your pleasure?"

MC: um, well you see, it's kind of my first time here. Not my first time in this kind of store, but for demons. Not that there's anything wrong with being a demon but I um...I'm just a bit embarrassed.

"Oh sweetie, you just hush those silly fears. Now, I'm not too keen on human culture, but this is the Devildom. Things like shame and sin are like a tick on a six-horned goat's ballsack."

MC: so...worthless then?

"You got it, sugar."

MC: ok, well in that case *looks around* I think I'd like to look at--

Asmodeus: --everything you've got in stock!

MC: fucking...Asmo? What the hell are you doing here?

Asmodeus: *gasps dramatically* honestly, it's like you don't even know me! Are you really asking why I, Asmodeus, Avatar of Lust, would patronage a sex shop?

MC: hmm. Fair point.

*clicks her tongue* "Asmo."

Asmodeus: oh, well if it isn't my favorite little kitty Mynxie.

Mynxie: you know, I didn't realize that "I'll call you later" meant six months from now.

Asmodeus: oh Mynxie, you just have to understand. When one is as renownedly known and loved as me you can't possibly recall every single, little lover you've had, right?

Mynxie: that right, huh? Well in that case, I also might fail to account for that little 80% discount at checkout and charge your ass full price.

Asmodeus: *gasps* you wouldn't?

Mynxie: oh, I would.

MC: maybe I should come back some other time.

Mynxie: oh no, don't go! See what you've made me go and do? You're making my customers uncomfortable *clears throat* Forgive me for mixing business with pleasure. All are welcome and made to feel comfortable here in Cleo's Circle. As a sexual education succubus and proud business owner, it is my sworn duty to ensure it.

MC: wow. Those are...some words you just said. Well, then I suppose I'll look around.

Mynxie: if you need anything just ask.

MC: ok. And actually, it's probably best that you're here too, Asmo. I actually wasn't sure what to do.

Asmodeus: oh sweetie, of course! Why didn't you tell me you wanted to explore your kinkier side sooner? I would've gladly shown you every single thing you needed to know. Oh, but um...just so you know, this isn't one of my usual outings.

MC: what does that mean?

Asmodeus: so...promise you won't get mad, ok?

MC: why would I get--

Mammon: --sup.

MC: FUCK.

Mammon: oh no. Ain't none of that happening while I'm here.

Beelzebub: hey, MC. Oh. Is that candy?

Belphegor: Beel, no.

Satan: so this is why you were ducking behind every dumpster in the Devildom. For a moment I thought you were mimicking a frightened raccoon.

Leviathan: *in a very convincing announcer voice* By day they're an average RAD student just trying to survive, but by night they're a crime-fighting, bondage-wearing vigilante saving the day with whips...and love.

Mammon: this ain't one of the plots to one of your low-budget hentai movies, Levi!

Leviathan: oh? And how do you know what hentai is, hmm?

Belphegor: looks like he got you there, Mammon.

Mammon: s-shut up!

MC: please don't have Lucifer. Please don't have Lucifer. Please don't have Lucifer.

Satan: be careful. I heard that if you chant his name five times he'll appear and lecture you to death.

Mammon: but nah, that buzz kill ain't here. Went to some fancy upper-echelon party with Lord Diavolo.

MC: thank Diavolo.

Satan: indeed.

MC: so then why are you all here?

Mammon: invite only. We may be avatars, but Lucifer is the avatar. Pff, whatever. I'm way cooler than him anyway.

Belphegor: plus, we saw you sneaking around and thought hey, that looks like a fun way to spend one's Saturday. Let's follow them.

Satan: but we didn't expect you to end up...here. Even so, why hide such a thing from us?

MC: because it's embarrassing! Why would I want you all with me buying sex toys?

Mammon: cause we're fun?

Belphegor: because it's hilarious?

Asmodeus: because we can help you find a good one?

Leviathan: that and it's not really that embarrassing.

MC: huh?

Asmodeus: we're demons sweetie, not prudes. We wouldn't judge you for this.

Beelzebub: what if we all brought something? That way, no one feels embarrassed.

Mammon: um, Beel. You realize what you're asking, right?

Mynxie: well, this is all good and heart-warmin' but are y'all gonna buy something? You're crowding up my store and frankly scaring the poor dear.

MC: thank you, um, Mynxie?

Mynx: it's just Mynx. Mynxie if you're naughty.

MC: ok, so then Mynx, I appreciate your consideration, but...I'm ok with them here.

Mynx: are you sure, hun? Cause I can kick them out if you need your privacy. Avatars or not, I know my way around a metal pipe.

MC: I'm sure. They can stay.

Asmodeus: yay!

Mynx: ok then. Let me know if you need any help. As for you all *pulls out a pipe and slams it on the counter* no funny business.

Everyone: yes ma'am.

Mynx: that's madam. Now, y'all be good, ok?

#obey me #obey me shall we date #obey me crack post #obey me mammon #obey me leviathan #obey me satan #obey me asmodeus #obey me belphegor #obey me beelzebub #obey me original character #obey me fanfic #obey me x mc #midnightsunnyday writes

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norman-fucking-reedus · 7 months

Note

Not really a sexual request but… thoughts on Daryl coming home upset? Like genuinely hurting over something or anxious about something. Personally I think Daryl would have some level of anxiety that every now and then can get bad so maybe something happens with that? Idk I just love your writing and wanna see your take on sad Daryl🫶🏻

UGHH I’ve been CRAVING some sad Daryl for a while I have this idea of Daryl having a mental break where he isolates himself from everyone because he has no clue how to properly communicate his feelings so instead he decides to stay in his own space and silently drown to death alone in his own thoughts.

Normalize holding adult men like babies because obviously thats what they are

I feel like lately my writing has been kinda bad?? 🧍🏾‍♀️Maybe this is just too short idk but something is OFF.

｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆

It had been two weeks since Daryl locked himself and your heart in the basement.

He needed some space, that much was obvious, but the worrying started the first week when Daryl didn’t touch the plates of food you or Carol would leave outside the door. He never left the room, never made a sound either. If it weren’t for the years of a living in an apocalypse, you would’ve thought he was dead.

Daryl felt dead, his bone weighing heavy with emotion and anger he just didn’t know how to get out. Years of bottling up everything now seeped through his grimy skin, mind running two miles a minute as his hands fisted his greasy matting hair.

He almost felt like a teenager again, rotting away feeling sorry for himself in bed while internal screaming at himself because lord knows he couldn’t do it vocally. He pushed everyone away, he needed to. Nobody needed to see him like this. Nobody needed to deal with him like this. Nobody needed to help him like this.

Daryl knew you and Carol left food outside his door, but he felt like he didn’t deserve to eat. Didn’t deserve to drink. He didn’t wanna open the door one day and see one of you standing there with a pitiful look on your face. He didn’t need pity.

He also didn’t need the jarring sound of pounding at said door. “Go ‘way” He mumbled, but instead the door creaked open, softly shutting. Maybe he should learn how to use a lock.

“Daryl” You voice was soft against his burning ears, however he felt a twinge of anger surge through him. “Get out. Don’t need anythin” He pushed himself up, sitting on the edge of the bed and only glancing over at where you stood with your arms tightly folded. “It’s been weeks”

He knows. “So? Gonna be another weeks too, now leave” You stood firmly in place, not budging.

Daryl screamed at himself for trying to throw you out, you of all people. Only his internal monologue didn’t match the one coming out his mouth. “Dammit woman I told ya ta leave!”

You stared at him silently, taking a few steps towards him and not faltering when he stood up, merely inches from your face. “Don’ need ya in here feelin’ fuckin’ sorry makin’ me feel worse”

“Well if it makes you feel any shitter I feel sorry for you inside and outside the door” You shrugged up at him, looking at him with a more causal expression than anything. “Why are you pushing me away Dixon?” Daryl bared his teeth at the question, angry at himself cause he didn’t know why. “Why’re ya in here?”

“That’s not answering my question” You scoffed, and Daryl turned to frustrated kick the night stand. “I don’ hafta answer tha’ stupid fuckin’ question! Why can’ ya jus’ leave me tha’ fuck alone?” He began pacing around the room, trying to put distance between the two of you continued to stubbornly close it. “Because I give a shit? You don’t get to suffer in here alone because think you deseve it”

You shoved Daryl’s chest, and surprisingly he shoved back, tears burning hot in his eyes. “Why not?!”

Your face softened and you grabbed Daryl’s hands, holding them tightly in yours. “Fucking stop!” He tried pulling himself out your grip, shaking his head as more traitorous tears spilled. Daryl grunted as you pulled his arms towards you, causing him to stumble which gave you the opening to finally capture him in a tight hug. “Get offa me” He mumbled even as his body desperately melted against yours. “It’s okay sweetheart” You whispered the words and walked backwards, lying on the bed when the back of your knees hit the mattress.

“Ya shouldn’t- Ya shouldn’t see me like this” Daryl buried his face in the crook of your neck, feeling an unfamiliar lump form in his throat. He no longer felt anger, but saddness. He was sad, so sad that he didn’t know what do to other then straying away. His chest hurt, and he felt so vulnerable in your arms that he just exploded, body shaking as sobs racked through him. “I’m here now babyboy, it’s okay” You, quite literally, tangled your fingers into his hair, soothingly scratching the scalp as Daryl’s tears ran down your skin and soaked your shirt.

It hurt so bad yet felt so good to finally, finally let it all out.

You moved to sit up against the wall, bringing Daryl along with you and positioning him to lay across against your shoulder, brushing hair out his red as he sniffled. You wiped his tears with your hand, staring down lovingly at him as you stroked his cheek. “Tell me what's hurting you” You whispered, listening to his soft whimpers and snotty sniffles. Daryl leaned his head against you, eyes flickering up to meet yours as he searched your face. He felt so grateful to have someone like you, caring about someone like him.

“Jus’ everythin” He whispered back.

You kissed his forehead, letting your lips linger there. “Anything in particular?”

Daryl shook his head, soaking up every ounce of attention you gave him. Each tear was wiped away by soft fingers, followed by a gentle kiss.

For the first time, Daryl felt like a little kid, huddled up sweetly in your arms as you ran your hands across his back, slowly rocking his frail frame.

He cried harder than he ever has, muffling sobs into to the fabric of your shirt. You only stroked his hair and told him that it was all okay.

And he believed you.

Daryl could physically feel the love radiating off you, seeping through his clothes and filing his weakened body.

It was so peaceful in the room beside from Daryl’s sniffing, he felt like you were the only people left on earth. As he glanced up at you through clumped lashes, he wished that you were.

“M’sorry” He mumbled.

You quirked a bow. “For what?”

“Fer pushin’ you”

“Away or earlier?” Daryl shook his head slightly.

“Both” He responded.

You playfully rolled your eyes. “Ugh. I guess I forgive you”

Daryl cracked a small smile, one of his fidgety hands reaching for yours. His fingers were cold compared to yours.

“I love you” You whispered, squeezing his hand in yours.

He searched your face, eyes glassy as they once again filled up with tears. “I- I love ya too”

｡･:*:･ﾟ★｡･:*:･ﾟ☆ ｡･:*:･ﾟ★

#the walking dead #daryl dixon #the walking dead daryl #daryl fanfiction #norman fucking reedus #daryl x reader #daryl x female reader #twd #daryl dixion imagine #daryl dixion smut #twd daryl dixon #daryl twd #twd daryl #daryl dixon smut #daryl dixon fanfiction #daryl dixon fanfic

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lamentationsofalonelypotato · 2 months

Text

Chapter 2: What A Great Freakin’ Way To Start The Day

Pairing: Soldier Boy x f!reader, Reader POV

Summary: When you decided to work with Butcher and his merry band of supe hunters to take down Homelander, you never expected to be saddled with a sullen, grumpy, jerk like Soldier Boy when the job was done. The more you’re around him the more you hate him, but you can’t help but wonder, is he really as big a jerk as you think? Reader is a supe with plant powers. This takes place in an AU about a month after the end of The Boys Season 3, in which Butcher has let Soldier Boy continue to work with him on his team. (I'm real bad at summaries, please forgive me!)

Tropes: Enemies to Lovers (Not in this chapter), Age Difference (Reader is in her 20s), Protective Ben/ Soldier Boy,

Word Count: 5.2K

Warnings: I'm going to label this 18+ because Soldier Boy (he's a warning and everyone knows it), swearing, mentions of sex, sexual innuendo, sexual tension. Ben/Soldier Boy might be a little bit OOC.

Note: This is told from Reader's perspective. Any references to the reader is made using you or your. There is minimal use of y/n. I tried my best to proofread, but nobody's perfect. If you don’t like, don’t read, but if you do like, you’re my favorite!

Internal monologue is in italics and is in first person.

Series Masterlist

Main Masterlist

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The morning begins the same way it always does, with your neighbor Mike blasting "I Will Always Love You" in his apartment at exactly 8 am just as he had each day since you met two years ago. It was the only constant in your life, but at least you didn't have to use an alarm clock anymore. The sound of Mike belting out the lyrics at the top of his lungs was enough to wake everyone in the whole building, including the people on the eighth floor, five stories above him.

But because Mike bought the super’s probably illegally made cologne and because the super was dating Mike’s mother, something that made you regret supe hearing very much, it never stopped despite the numerous complaints.

Then again it was Annie's favorite thing about sleeping over, she liked to scream the lyrics back at the wall and jump on your bed like a crazy banshee. Honestly you hoped that it would stop after Ben had pretended to be your boyfriend, that Mike would finally figure it out and give up.

Guess not.

You sit up in your bed, stretching your hands over your head while humming the chorus under your breath, but you were more of an ABBA fan. If Mike had decided to serenade you with "Take A Chance On Me" or even Aretha Franklin's "You're All I Need to Get By," you might have looked at him differently.

The memory of the dream of his mullet smothering you in your sleep momentarily passes over your mind, causing a shudder to travel down your spine. Or maybe not.

Your bedroom was similar to your living room, covered in plants. Trailing jasmine and bougainvillea blanketed the wall behind your bed in deep red and white, budding lavender, lilac, and honeysuckle sat in pots along the top of your dresser, and a blush colored rose bush, that never went out of bloom, stood proudly in the corner. The only difference was that there were two large piles of books almost as tall as your ceiling, some old some new, braced beside the rose bush like Roman columns. You kept trying to remember to buy a bookshelf, but each time you thought about going to pick one up, Butcher usually called and asked you to help out. Both piles were covered almost completely in pothos and more hung from the brick walls above your only window, that opened the floor length pale yellow curtains with a flick of your hand.

An annoyed purring sound greets your ears as the honeyed light from the now open window wisps over your covers. Bean, your cat, stalks up from the end of the bed, his yellowed eyes narrowed with annoyance at being woken up so early while his charcoal gray coat turns lighter in the brilliant sunlight. Last night he had been in your bedroom when you got home, which meant that he hadn't been around Ben when he came in.

A good thing, because Bean hated just about everyone except Butcher, which you thought was weird. But whenever Butcher dropped by to talk to you Bean always came over to look for rubs, while hissing at anyone who tried to interrupt them. Hughie was actually afraid of Bean, and because Bean was a cat he immediately picked up on this and purposely would jump on the couch next to Annie so Hughie couldn't sit there, Bean also followed after Hughie to the bathroom and waited outside the door to swipe at his ankles whenever he would come out.

But you didn't love him any less.

He puts his paw on your thigh lightly extending his claws to get your attention.

"Oh are you talking to me now?" You smile, rubbing him behind the ears. "I thought you were angry because I woke you up?"

He purrs and pushes his chunky gray head against your hand, but startles when the song switches to "My Heart Will Go On" which causes Mike's mother to join in to his karaoke session.

I'd move if my apartment wasn't so damn cheap.

"Maybe they should take the show on the road. Huh buddy?"

Bean purrs his response while pushing his head further into your hand.

His mom wasn't that bad of a singer, in fact, you thought that you remembered eavesdropping on a conversation between her and the super when she talked about a career as a cabaret singer a while ago.

"Come on, let's see if Gramps killed any of my plants." You smile down at your cat. "If he did I'm going to turn him into a tree."

Bean purrs in agreement.

You get out of bed, adjusting your shirt back down over your shorts before walking to the door with Bean following behind you. You step out into the cool hallway, with more enthusiasm than usual as you try to escape the butchering of the Titanic's soundtrack and collide into something warm and wet.

It takes you exactly seven seconds to realize that the warm, wet, thing that your face is currently stuck to, is in-fact Ben's chest, his shirtless chest. Why he's standing in the hallway outside your door, soaking wet and wearing a towel you have no idea. All you know is that your face is physically laying against the warm flesh of his pectoral muscles.

"Why are you NAKED?" You scream as you peel yourself off of him and turn your gaze away. Your face felt so warm that it was like you'd been standing in front of a volcano for too long and you were sure that you had blushed to the roots of your hair.

You'd only seen him without his shirt on once, when the door to his bedroom was cracked at the apartment he shared with the rest of the group. But it was from the back and you had been walking by to go to the bathroom, and you hadn't looked…

Well, you may have stopped for a second to admire the powerful muscles on his muscular back and maybe thought about waiting for him to turn around so you could see if the front was as good as the back… but you hadn't.

And he certainly hadn't been soaking wet then, and it made you hate him more now, because no one should look as good as he does soaking wet. You personally knew that you looked like a drowned poodle whenever you stepped out of the shower, but him? Soldier Boy looks like he just finished filming a shampoo commercial.

You could see it in your head, him standing under a crystal blue waterfall with the water splashing against weathered rocks before running through his soft brown hair, curving around his broad shoulders, down his toned stomach straight down to his-

NO. Not gonna go there. You could feel your skin heating in embarrassment, almost as if you thought he could read your mind.

"I'm not naked doll, I mean I could be if you wanted me to." He smirks as he hears your heartbeat begin to pick up and reaches for the end of his towel. The towel that was almost too small to wrap around his waist and left very little to the imagination.

"NO!" You shout holding up a hand to stop him, but again brush the front of his chest.

Fuck, you could zest a lemon on those abs.

"Are you sure?" Ben smiles wider, taking a step forward. He's so close that you can smell your grapefruit mint shampoo on him and feel the humidity and warmth of his body as he stands there. For some reason the fact that he used your shampoo, and smelled like your soap, made you feel warm and tingly. It was almost hypnotic. You hated how much you liked it. "Because you're turning that cute little red color you always do whenever I'm around, and your heartbeat is kinda fast."

"No. I don't." You grit your teeth together. "Why are you standing outside of my door naked?"

"Maybe I was waiting for you to come out." His hand presses against the doorway next to your head. "You know, I already took a shower, but if you wanted I'd be happy to get back in with you."

"No thanks. I don't need a shower and I wouldn't shower with you if it was the last shower on earth and I hadn't bathed in forty years." You purse your lips. "Oh right, that happened to you."

Ben frowns at your mention of his time in Russia. You didn't often tease him about being trapped in a lab, you knew that it was a sore spot for him. Plus you'd seen the footage of exactly what those doctors did to him and it was enough to make you want to book a one way ticket to Russia and personally show them what happened when a tree got shoved up your ass.

You open your mouth to apologize.

"I was going to ask if you have any other clothes here. Mine are still wet from last night." He raises an eyebrow, but the humor is gone from his eyes.

"Oh. Um. I can take a look." You turn and walk into your bedroom, trying not to feel awkward about bringing up the lab.

He was a jerk, but he didn't deserve a reminder of how shitty the last forty years have been.

Truthfully, you weren't sure if you had anything that would fit him. Ben was a lot bigger than you, taller and broader. You usually did wear things that were a little big for you, but you didn't think that Ben would fit in any of them.

Maybe I have something from when my brother was here last time.

Darren often dropped by when he was in the city visiting his friends or had a new "business" venture. The ones that never seemed to last and the friends that always seemed happy to spend the moan you "loaned" him for his "best idea yet" as he always phrased it. But he hadn't been by in at least a year.

"It's really green in here too." You hear Ben say under his breath.

You didn't think that he was going to follow you into your room, you thought he was going to stay in the hallway, but no, he had followed you. And he made the room feel even smaller than it was with his broad shoulders and over six foot stature.

The sunlight from the window glinted off his still wet chest and it made your throat uncomfortably tight. For the love of chocolate pudding, WHY does he look so good all the time?

"You can wait in the hall-"

"Wanted to see your bedroom." He smirks. "Though I think that you wanted to show it to me last night-"

You ignore him and turn back to your chest of drawers while Mike and his mother switch to "What Makes You Beautiful" by One Direction. You wince as they begin.

"Do they always do that?" Ben asks.

"Yep. Since I moved in." You sigh, shuffling through your t-shirts.

"He's really got it bad Sweetheart. Maybe you should throw him a bone. Kinda seems like the poor guy needs to get some ass-"

"If it's any of your business- which it's not- I do not like him that way."

"Well they're a little loud." You feel Ben take a step closer to you. "But I bet you and I could give them a run for their money. We are in your bedroom after all, might as well make the most of it."

"I didn't know that you liked Karaoke. I'll keep that in mind for you 105th birthday party."

"What? No I meant-"

Bean purrs loudly from his position on your bed and you wait for the telltale sound of Ben shooing him away when Bean tries to puncture Ben's impenetrable skin with his claws, but it doesn't come.

You glance over your shoulder. Are you kidding me?

Bean is sitting on your white plush comforter, rubbing up against Ben's hand, purring while Ben scratches him behind the ears.

Traitor.

"Didn't know you had a cat." Ben says continuing to stroke his hand down Bean's spine, who stands up and turns so Ben can have a better angle.

"I didn't peg you for a cat person. Kinda ruins the whole all-American Man image you have going on."

He shrugs. "I like dogs more, but I don't hate cats. Usually they don't like me very much."

"I wonder why that is." You grumble watching Bean lean into Ben's hand again. "His name is Bean."

"Bean? Why?"

"Because when I got him I was trying to grow green beans in the linen closet and he would sit outside the door and screech until I gave him a green bean to play with."

"You were trying to grow green beans in the linen closet?"

"Yeah. Seemed like a good idea, but they like the bathroom more-" You finally find the oversized Led Zeppelin shirt your brother left the last time he crashed at your apartment and a pair of jeans. "A lot of my plants like the bathroom more actually."

"I was going to ask you why the bathroom floor and wall was squishy."

"It's moss. It thrives in humid environments." You hold out the clothes for him.

"Uh-huh." He frowns at the clothes for a minute. "So you're saying you wouldn't want a guy to serenade you like that?" Ben nods his head towards your bedroom wall, just as Mike and his mother begin to belt out the chorus. "Thought girls liked sappy shit."

"I'm not a fan of One Direction."

"Right. You like ABBA more." Ben turns towards your door to go back to the bathroom to change.

Shock momentarily spikes in your chest. "How did you know that?"

He freezes as if you caught him doing something bad, turning slightly towards you. "Um- well, you hum their songs a lot."

"When?" You cross your arms over your chest.

"Whenever you're on stake outs. Sometimes when you're reading those files or waiting for Annie at the apartment." He shrugs. “When you were walking last night you were humming ‘Fernando.’"

He noticed that?

"How long exactly were you following me?"

"Long enough." He raises an eyebrow. "Are you trying to keep me talking because you want me to change in here? Because I would be more than happy to drop this towel and show you what a real man looks like Sweetheart."

"Don't flatter yourself Gramps. If you drop that towel the only thing that'll happen is Bean will think you brought him a green bean to play with." You roll your eyes. "Now get out of my room. I have to change."

Ben begins to say something, but the vines hanging above the door push him out into the hall and shut the door behind him.

That felt good.

After you put on a white t-shirt, your favorite pair of jean overalls and your dark green converse, you make your way out into the living room. Ben is there, lounging on your couch like he owns it. He’s wearing the jeans and t-shirt you gave him, but you can't help but notice how the clothes are just a little too small for him. The way his muscles pull at the t-shirt, the way the jeans hug his thighs and butt-

He's getting way too comfortable here. You think to yourself to avoid the thought of how good he looks on your couch. How it almost feels natural that he's sitting here in your living room, inhabiting your space.

"So what's for breakfast doll face?" He leans his head back to gaze at you with a mischievous smile that makes a warm tingle travel down the length of your spine.

"Well, I'm going to have oatmeal and you're going to have whatever you want I guess?"

His eyes darken. "Whatever I want?"

"Calm down Gramps I meant that there's cereal in the cabinet." You roll your eyes to avoid thinking about the kiss last night and then thinking about how it felt for your body to be pressed against his in the hallway when you ran into him. Which inevitably leads back to the waterfall fantasy and-

No. No. Not going to do that. Not with him. He's just good at getting women into bed, he doesn't care about you. You think about how he remembered that you liked ABBA. That doesn't mean anything. He doesn't see me as anything more than a conquest and he probably remembered that because he's changing tactics and trying not to act like a creep.

“You’re not going to pour me a bowl?” His smirk pulls down in an attractive pout.

“I think it’s simple enough for your little brain to do.” You don’t turn around from the kitchen cabinets, grabbing a raspberry from the refrigerator and popping it in your mouth. For some reason you noticed that whatever you grew tasted better than anything you bought at the grocery store. You hoped that it didn’t mean that your powers supercharged whatever you grew and that it was actually radioactive or something.

Because that’s exactly what I need, to turn bright green.

“There’s nothing little about me doll.”

“Can’t you ever have a conversation with someone without it revolving around sex?” You grumble banging around in your cabinets to find your instant oatmeal.

It was a valid point and you were tired of getting whiplash every time Ben acted caring and then flipping back to horny manchild.

“Where’s the fun in that?” Ben laughs. He stands from the couch and makes his way into your kitchen.

It was hard not to notice how small each room in your apartment looked with him in it. His head was only a foot below the ceiling, not to mention the kitchen was only composed of six cabinets, a small sink, a microwave shoved into a corner, a stove top, and a refrigerator that only came up to Ben’s shoulders. Your bathroom was worse, sometimes the shower was small even for you and you didn’t know how Ben fit in there.

He probably had to duck down to stand under the shower head.

And then as you thought that, the image of Ben standing under a waterfall comes creeping back, making the strawberry plant on top of the fridge, the raspberry vines, and the blackberry vines covering your refridgerator burst into bloom.

Thankfully Ben didn’t notice, because he was rooting through the white top cabinet in the corner for one of the cereal boxes.

I’d never hear the end of it if he saw that happen.

You glare at the plants in question, eyes shifting to a deep green as the flowers develop into fresh fruit to cover your slip.

Ben pulls out a box of Lucky Charms, but frowns at Lucky on the front cover, who is throwing a handful of marshmallow charms into the air around him.

Guess he's not a fan.

“If I’d known you were going to sleep on my couch I would have gotten Bran flakes and prunes for you.” You smirk as you pour water over the oats in the bowl before placing it in the microwave to cook. “I know people your age need that kind of thing sometimes. Gets the bowel moving.”

“Make fun of my age all you want.” Ben steps around you to grab the almost empty bottle of milk from your refrigerator. “One day you’ll be happy to find out just how experienced I am.”

“Keep dreaming.”

His dark eyes meet yours. “You’re all I dream about baby.”

You can feel his breath on the side of your neck from how close he is to you, the kitchen seems smaller than it ever has, and he leans forward, sensing your hesitation. One of his hands goes on the kitchen counter to your right, the other places the milk down and then braces on the counter to your left caging you against him.

“Do any of your lines actually work?” You say, throat tight.

“You’d be surprised.” He smirks wider, green eyes sliding up and down your body.

The air in the kitchen electrifies, something passing through the air between the two of you that makes you feel like your heart is going to burst out of your chest. His eyes are softer green now, reminding you of the color of fresh leaves on an oak tree in spring, bright, strong, and full of life. His body is pressed gently against yours, the strong muscles of his abdomen laying on your hips, muscular arms making sure that you don't walk away.

You try not to think again about how good he looks in your apartment, how calm and relaxed he seems when he’s away from Butcher and not wearing his uniform.

Standing here in your apartment, he looked normal, human. Sometimes it was hard to remember that you were, when you could do what you did, when you saw him get hit with a car and shove it away with one hand.

He was still ridiculously attractive, the kind of attractive that you’d read in romance novels and in classic Roman literature, the kind of beautiful that people wrote poetry about, the kind of ruggedly handsome that made smart girls stupid.

You were really feeling that last one. Because you were desperately trying to hold on to your dream of being with someone that understood every part of you, but Ben was making it hard.

It wasn’t that the idea of sleeping with him was terrible. It wasn’t. It was far from terrible it was the idea of having sex without feelings that you didn’t like. You didn’t want to sleep with him because you knew that he only saw you as something to be possessed not as an equal or someone he cared about. Soldier Boy only cared about himself, that was apparent.

He’s only interested in you because you haven’t given in. You think to yourself. It's all about the thrill of the chase, nothing else. I'm worth more than that. I'm worth more than one night.

“In fact, I think it’s working on you doll.” Ben leans down towards you so close you can feel his words in the air between your faces, his eyes searching yours as if waiting for you to say no.

That made you pause. Ben didn’t seem to be the type of man who was patient. You’d walked in on him making out with numerous women on the couch back at the apartment he shared with the rest of the team, saw how he took control, saw how he didn’t seem to wait for them to say no or really say anything at all. Not to mention one time when you walked into the shared apartment and could hear Ben with one of his "dates" in his bedroom. Nothing about that seemed patient at all.

But this Ben standing in your kitchen was different. He was almost smiling, dark hair still damp from the shower curling on his forehead, the t-shirt damp around the collar, jeans a dark blue, and the smell of your shampoo fills your senses again all over again. It made you wish for this person all the time. The one that you could see yourself falling in love with, not the racist, sexist, and inappropriate jerk that seemed to dominate his persona at all other parts of the day.

Funny, the only time you’d ever seen Ben like this, was when the two of you were alone- well sometimes- other times he annoyed you without end and made you want to jump out a window.

But why? Why only around me?

The feeling in your chest grows. It jumps from synapse to synapse, pulses along your skin, buzzes in your blood, tangles through your hair, and radiates through the air like a sound wave. Your eyes drift down to his lips remembering exactly what it was like to kiss him last night. How he seemed to consume you whole, how everything else fell away, how Ben curled himself around you, how he-

Your cell phone rings, breaking through the moment, and making you remember exactly why you didn’t want to give in to Ben and remember the kind of person he was.

You push him away and pull your cellphone out of your pocket. Butcher's photo and name appear on the screen.

Shit.

"Hey Butch, what's up?" You look away from Ben, forcing yourself to calm your racing heart.

Ben perks up at the mention of Butcher’s name.

“Do you have any idea where Soldier Boy is?”

“Soldier Boy?”

“Seems like our blunt smoking man out of time has vanished. Been trying to text him all bloody morning.”

At least he doesn’t know that Ben is here. That’s good. I’d never hear the end of it if-

Ben snatches the phone from your hand and holds it up to his ear. “What the fuck do you want?”

The softness was gone, his eyes had hardened again, and the spell was broken. Ben was no longer relaxed, his shoulders were tensed and guarded, jaw set.

It didn’t take a genius to know that Ben didn’t like Butcher. Sometimes you wondered why Ben decided to stay.

Probably because the alternative was being frozen like Han Solo next to his son.

When Ben had knocked Homelander out, you hadn’t believed it, and despite Ben’s arguing Butcher wanted to keep Homelander a supe, and just put him on ice. You had no idea why, especially since Butcher had been gunning for him forever, but had the sneakiest suspicion that it was because of Ryan.

But you didn't blame Butcher for that, watching your father get killed in front of you seemed traumatic, not to mention Ryan was still reeling from watching his mother die.

You turn back to your microwave to pull out your bowl of oatmeal with a groan.

Now Butcher’s going to mock me endlessly about going home with Soldier Boy. We didn’t do anything! Well…

Your mind flits back to the searing kiss you shared and to five seconds ago when whatever the hell just happened.

“You want me to meet you in fucking Jersey?” Ben laughs.

You choose not to eavesdrop on the conversation, instead you busy yourself with sprinkling brown sugar onto your breakfast and plucking a few more raspberries from the vines.

“Fine.” Ben almost growls before holding out the phone to you. “He wants to talk to you.”

Of course he does. Maybe I can pretend to lose the signal with a piece of paper or a candy wrapper.

“Hello-“

“You crazy wanker.” Butcher chuckles into the phone. “Guess your night was a little more exciting than mine eh? Oi Hughie, you owe me a tener!” He shouts to Hughie who you can guess is sitting nearby.

“What? He’s with y/n! No way!” You hear Hughie shout back, muffled but there.

Damn it he’s gonna tell Annie. She's going to start sending me pictures of babies photoshopped in supe suits.

“You guys were betting that he was here?!” You shout making eye contact with Ben who only smirks before he busies himself with getting a bowl for his cereal.

“He left about two minutes after you did. Said some bullshit about a smoke break.” Butcher is smiling and you know it. “How was he? Was he as good as all the girls say?" Butcher coos on the other side of the line.

“Nothing happened-“

“Sure it didn’t Cherie!” You hear Frenchie crow. “Hopefully you got to relieve some of that tension no?”

“I hate all of you.” You grumble, and before Butcher can say anything else you hang up the phone and glare at Ben. “This is your fault.”

“What do you mean sweetheart?”

“You just had to follow me home!”

“You shouldn’t have been walking out there alone.”

“I do it all the time!”

“Not anymore.”

“What is that supposed to mean?”

“I’m not going to let you walk around alone in the middle of the night.”

"Like hell. I don't need a babysitter!"

"I think you do-"

"No I don't. In fact why are you still here? Why haven't you left?" You shout, snatching your bowl of oatmeal before moving to the wobbly kitchen table that you smooshed up against a window that looks out onto your fire escape.

"Because I tend to like morning sex. It's a great way to start the day. Thought you'd be interested." Ben winks as he sits across from you, barely fitting in the wooden chair.

Your phone buzzes where it sits on the table beside your bowl. When you flip it over, you see the text from Annie.

Annie: YOU SLEPT WITH SOLDIER BOY?!!!!

You: I'm not going to dignify that with a response.

Annie: That's a yes. TELL ME EVERYTHING!!!

You sigh and shovel a spoonful of oatmeal into your mouth, eyes drifting up to the top of your phone screen focusing on the time.

"SHIT! I'm late for work!" You shout before shoving as much oatmeal as you can into your mouth.

"Work?" Ben looks up from his bowl of cereal confused as you begin to run around the room.

The half-eaten bowl of oatmeal falls into the sink with a resounding crash, Bean's cat food lands haphazardly in his bright green food dish, and you practically run to your tote bag that hangs on a peg by your front door.

"I told you. I work at a plant shop." You glance back at your barren coffee maker mournfully. The thought of trying to get through the day without coffee seemed impossible, not to mention you didn’t have time to grab one on the way to work from your favorite shop just around the corner.

"I thought you were joking."

"No. Some of us have to work for a living." You run your fingers through your hair quickly pulling it back in a loose ponytail.

"You should leave your hair down." Ben says from the table watching you.

"What?"

"It's prettier when it's down."

"I don't have time for your misogynistic comments. Come on let's go."

"What?"

"I'm not going to leave you here in my apartment alone. You don't have a key."

"You could give me yours-"

"HA. No that's not going to happen. Come on." You tug on his muscular arm, trying to get him up out of the chair, but he barely moves.

“You know you could call out of work and we could spend the day in bed.” He smiles, eyes tracing your figure. “I mean you look good baby, but I think you'd look even better naked. Plus, Butcher and the rest of those fuckers already think we slept together so we might as well-“

“Not a chance Gramps. Either get up out of the chair and leave through the door or leave through the window. It’s your choice and I have no qualms with throwing you down to the street. But please don't make me do that because I can't afford a new window."

Ben rolls his eyes, but finally gets up to follow you. He actually tries to open the door for you, but you place your hand on his chest.

“Nah uh uh. Bowl in the sink. I’m not going to clean up after you.”

Ben sighs and mumbles something under his breath that’s lost in Mike’s inhuman screech of “Love on Top.”

Yeah. What a great fucking way to start the day.

[][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][]

Thank you so much for reading! If you'd like to be added to my taglist for this series let me know :)

(Photos for series picture found on Pinterest)

Taglist: @roseblue373 @mrsjenniferwinchester @corruptedcruiser @winchesterwild78 @the-super-who-locked-wizard

@criminalyetminimal @52ndstreeet @bitchykittenconnoisseur @anna6307 @libby99hb

@faephoria @possiblyafangirl @jqtaro

#soldier boy x you #jensen ackles soldier boy #soldier boy #soldier boy x female reader #soldier boy x reader #soldier boy/ben #the boys fanfic #jensen ackles #soldier boy fanfiction #soldier boy x y/n #soldier boy fic #the boys amazon

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jasmines-library · 8 months

Note

Hi there! I absolutely adore the way you write and how you approach heavier topics. If it doesn’t bother you, could I request a Batfamily fic with reader who has an ED? I know a lot of people struggle with it and I feel like we all need a little affirmation sometimes. <3

Just The Way You Are

Warnings: Eating Disorders - please read with caution.

Word Count: 1.1k

Note: This one hit home hard. As someone who has struggled with and ED, I think it is important to raise awareness about them. Please note that this is based off off my personal experiences and from research. EDs present themselves in many different ways that vary for everyone. Please remember to be kind to yourself and others and if you are struggling and are able to, to reach out. I have linked some helplines below for those who are in need. Please remember that you are loved and you are perfect just the way you are. You are special. You are loved. You are unique. never let anyone take that away from you.

⛤ BATFAM MASTERLIST ⛤

You hadn’t touched most of your food. It sat there getting cold as you pushed it around the porcelain listening to the way your fork scraped gratingly against the shiny surface. You had taken a few bites, longing to savour the taste of Alfred’s cooking as it melted on your tongue, but it didn’t seem to have the same effect anymore. You couldn’t bring yourself to bring anymore of the food to your lips. Even the smell began to make your stomach churn. And you felt so stupid as you sat there staring at the plate as everyone else delved in. In some ways that made you feel worse. But eating had begun to feel like a crime.

When it first started, you never thought it would go this far. You just wanted to lose a little weight, to tone your stomach and your muscles just a little bit more. You weren’t even entirely sure why. Perhaps a cruel comment made in passing? It didn’t matter. But what did was the way that your mind seemed to wrack with cruel thoughts every time you looked in the mirror. Pointing out everything that seemed to be wrong. Or didn’t look like the models in the photos in Jason's magazines.

So, you started cutting back. Just a little at first. Snacks in between meals. And you started working out more, trying to burn off calories faster. But when you checked the scales it felt like it wasn’t enough. When you looked in the mirror, your mind still screamed at you, replaying comments and thoughts in your mind like a broken record. They scratched away at you until soon you began to cut back on meals. Breakfast. Smaller portions at lunch and just a few bites here or there at dinner, so that your family wouldn’t suspect a thing. And still even that didn’t seem to be enough. You still felt wrong every time you glanced in the mirror. You still felt like your body wasn’t good enough.

Soon they noticed. You were becoming more withdrawn, often slipping away into the bathrooms after meals. Often not at meals at all. You were sluggish too and seemed to lack the spark that you used to hold. They would ask you tenderly if you were okay, but most days you would scatter or pretend not to have heard them. And other days you would just tell them that you had already had something to eat. That you weren’t hungry.

And somehow lying to them made the situation feel so much worse. Like you were harming them as well as yourself. Your mind was a blur. Days seemed to pass by in some strange mess of time and the only thing that consumed thoughts were the lingering, cruel jests of your inner monologue. Sometimes, you begged for it to stop. You wanted to stop. But you couldn’t. Because you felt as though if you did you would feel disgusting. You would feel as though everything you had done had been for nothing.

“Not hungry?” Tim asked from across beside you. You had zoned out, not sparing the rest of them aside as your mind wandered off on a tangent.

“Hmm?” You frowned. “No. I had a big lunch not too long ago. It was stupid of me really, I should know better than to eat too close to dinner.”

Jason frowned. “You’ve been doing that a lot. Are you okay?”

“Mhm.” You hummed, keeping your eyes plastered on the table cloth, not daring to meet his gaze.

“I didn’t see you at breakfast either today Y/N.” Damian added. “Are you sure you’ve had enough to eat?”

“Yeah.” You nodded, swallowing down the anxiety that rose within you quickly. “I’ve already said I’m just not hungry.”

“You’re looking a little pale kiddo.” Dick said “I don’t want you getting sick. Why don’t you try and take a few more bites. It’ll help.”

And soon it all became too much. Everything seemed too much. Too bright, too loud, too hot. And a tear that had been threatening to spill from your eyes for weeks now finally slipped free of its cage.

“I can’t.”

It was a simple phrase, but your voice trembled.

“Why not, kid? What’s the matter kiddo?” Jason asked calmly.

“I just… I just can’t.” you sobbed. “Because if I eat then I feel like my body isn’t good enough! I don’t look like a model. Everytime I look in the mirror I see a body staring back at me that is mine, but it doesn’t feel like me. It doesn’t look like how I want it too. How it’s supposed to.”

They fell silent for a moment. But then Damian spoke up.

“Oh Y/N/N… your body is beautiful.”

“Is that why you haven’t been eating?” Dick tilted his head.

You nodded meekly.

“Oh kid…you’re so perfect. You don’t need to change for anyone ever. Who cares what you look like?”

“Me! Everyone! I don’t know!”

“We don’t care. We think you are beautiful just the way you are. You are perfect y/n, and we wouldn’t want you any different.” Tim told you gently, placing his hand atop of yours.

“We love every inch of you. You are beautiful.”

You sniffled, wiping away your tears.

“We’re sorry you couldn’t tell us how you feel. But we are here for you. Always.” Damian told you.

“We’re always going to be here kiddo. We’re here to help you. Here to love you.” Jason added.

“We don’t know what we would do without you. It’s so important that you take care of yourself, beautiful.” Dick said. “And it will take time, as recovery does, but we’re going to be here to help you every step of the way.”

And they were true to their words. The four of them began to help you on your recovery journey. Often they would sit with you, taking small bites of food with you or offering you your favourite treats, reassuring you that it was okay.

If you ever felt overwhelmed, they would wait with you, allowing you to take your time.

Everyday they reminded you of how proud they were of you, even if you felt your progress had gone backward that day. Because they truly were.

Often they would slip you notes. Sometimes they came under your door or were left by your bathroom mirror. You had quite the collection. Each one was different. A different reason why they loved you, or a reminder of how proud they were of you. Reminders that you are loved and you are beautiful just the way you are.

HELPLINES

BATFAM TAGLIST:

@aestheticdaisies

@hell-o-kittys

@xxrougefangxx

@mamapucket

@hearts4robs

@harleycao

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unreliablesnake · 1 year

Text

My place (Miguel O'Hara x reader)

Summary: Miguel has a thing for his neighbor.

Warnings: brief mention of masturbation (m), reader's wearing a dress.

Note: Y'all, I'm not gonna write smut at work.

After losing the family that had never really been his, Miguel promised himself to focus on work to fix things, to make things right after what he had done. But that wasn't the only thing he promised himself. He also decided to stay away from relationships, keeping up his walls so no one could get too close to him again.

But you…

You were hard to resist. You had moved into the apartment next to his about three months ago, always greeting him with a beaming smile when you met in the hallway. He often thought about letting you closer, inviting you over for coffee or dinner, maybe even making a move on you at one point.

There were times when he touched himself fantasizing about you, believing nothing bad could come out of thinking about you every once in a while, imagining what you would be like when he fucked you senseless. All the sweet sounds that would leave your lips, the whimpers, the moans, his name, all of them sounding like a perfect melody that filled the room. He had a feeling you would be very vocal during sex, and the thought drove him crazy.

“I think this is the point where I need to remind you that this is practically stalking,” Lyla told him one day when he was waiting for you near the building you worked in.

Miguel let out a sigh as he considered her warning. She was right. He had been following you around when he had the time a few times in the past week or so, but he always justified his actions by saying it was to protect you. Just to know you got home safe. It was the right thing to do as Spider-man, right?

“You should go back to the HQ,” the AI spoke up again. He let out an annoyed groan, one to which she replied with a roll of her eyes behind the sunglasses. “Or maybe try to talk to her this time. You know, like a normal human being would probably do.”

“I'll talk to her when the time is right,” he replied.

“And when will that be? You've been neglecting work lately. People are looking for you.”

Miguel looked down at Lyla, his mouth open as he was about to answer. But then he took his time, deciding not to lash out at the one person who was trying to help him. “I'm not neglecting work. If anything, I'm neglecting sleep,” was all he said.

His assistant didn't push the matter any further, but it made him think about what he was doing and he realized what a creep he had been. He should talk to you the next time you meet, telling you how he thought about asking you out, just as Lyla suggested, hoping you wouldn't turn your back on him halfway through his monologue.

To his surprise, though, he received a message while he was working at the HQ. It was from you. He had no idea how you found him, but seeing your number–that he already had from not-so-legal sources–made his heart rate jump. At first he didn't even want to read it, being afraid whatever it was would just avert his thoughts from more important matters for the rest of the night. But in the end it turned out not knowing why you wrote him was much worse, so he opened the message and began to read it.

You: Hi, it's your neighbor from 349. I got your number from the janitor who apparently had it for emergencies. Anyway, I know it's probably weird, but I was wondering if you'd like to join me tomorrow evening to watch a play. I got two tickets at work but have no one to go with.

He had to reread the message a few times to understand that you've just asked him out on a date. Or maybe you were just trying to be friends with him with no other intention. Why did this have to be so confusing? After cursing out loud in Spanish, happy that no one was around apart from Lyla to hear it, he began to think about how to reply. He had to be cool about this.

Miguel: Hey. It sounds nice, I'd gladly join you.

You: Cool. Meet me in the hallway at seven?

Miguel: Sure.

“You'll have to talk to her tomorrow, you know,” Lyla noted as if he hadn't known that.

The next evening couldn't come fast enough. He busied himself with work to make time pass faster, but you were always on his mind, the possibilities of how your encounter would end on repeat in his brain. If he played his cards right, he might have you where he really wished to see you–in his bed.

When he stepped out of his apartment two minutes before seven, you were already there, wearing a gorgeous black dress with high heels that were killing him. The moment you noticed him, your eyes began to shine and your lips curled into a sweet smile, making him wonder how you could be this cheerful all the time.

“You look absolutely stunning,” he said before he could stop himself, but you didn't seem to mind. “I can't say I wasn't surprised when I got your message, though.”

You nodded as you licked your lips nervously. “I'm sorry, I didn't mean to be weird, I just… I've been planning to chat with you for a while now anyway. Thought tonight could be the chance for that,” you explained.

“I'm glad you invited me. And you're not weird.” Miguel assured you with a smile. “I've been thinking about talking to you, too, I just wasn't sure you would be interested.”

“I am.”

You fell silent, but just when he was about to break the silence and ask you if you were ready to go, you launched forward and pulled his head down to kiss him. It was a messy, hungry kiss, and he was sure he would devour you if you weren't careful enough. But you didn't seem scared, not even when you felt his fangs tear into your bottom lip.

When he pulled away for a moment to breathe, admiring your puffy lips and the way you were looking up at him through your lashes, he realized that you didn't want to go anywhere. You had your finger hooked under his belt, and you were pulling him towards your door at a painfully slow pace.

“I don't know about you, but I'm not even that interested in that play,” you whispered quietly.

Miguel kissed you again, this time not holding back when he pushed your back against the wall. “My place,” he growled against your lips, and you were quick to nod in response. “Good girl.”

#miguel o'hara #miguel o'hara x reader #across the spiderverse #atsv

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cryptictongues · 2 months

Text

The Sun Lives in His Eyes

pairing: Vincent Valentine x Fem!Reader rating: Explicit (MINORS DNI; 18+) word count: 6.9k summary: You try on swimsuits for Vincent, and he doesn't know how to handle it.

warnings: porn with feelings, angst, teasing, lots of dry humping and making out, come tasting, sexual tension

Spoilerwise, I made it so the emotions after the second visit to the Golden Saucer were present but didn't get very specific as to why aside from the keystone and what the stone is needed for (which is in the OG game too). Other than that, this is pretty spoiler free!

Also, just to add, when trying on bathing suits, please for the love of GOD keep your underwear on. Don't let your bare cooch touch it.

Please read my pinned post before following me! Minors and ageless blogs will be blocked as this blog’s content is NSFW.

[AO3 link]

It was midday in Costa Del Sol and it was alive as usual. The beach goers were all in their swimsuits, with their beautiful lays and their skin that had been kissed by the sun. The sky was as blue as can be with a slight overcast of clouds. Booths of a multitude of items for sale and fun games that make the atmosphere of the area feel like one big fair. It was a refreshing change of scenery, especially after the last 24 hours.

Traveling back to Costa Del Sol was no easy task, especially when exhaustion, anger, and disappointment have infiltrated the air. With the failure to retrieve the keystone, the direction of the group had faltered. No one had a clue where the Temple of the Ancients was located, and the future seemed bleak. That was until the mysterious man, the one you have grown very attached to, had suggested using the Tiny Bronco’s radio to try and intercept the signal from the Turks to retrieve the coordinates.

Vincent Valentine: the epitome of peculiar. A man, a beast, a creature of mystery. You and everyone else’s first interaction with him being an almost fatal one, for the bestial side of him was quite destructive. He was fairly fast for a creature of his size, strong reflexes, and phenomenal perception. He wasn’t a normal beast, but of course he wasn’t: he was still a human underneath it all. Which is why once he had transformed back into his original form, the brokenness and anguish that appeared on his face was apparent. You remember vividly how he had looked directly at you, stunning you in your place as you wondered what you had done to receive such a stare.

You never thought you’d make contact with those eyes again with his lack of interest in coming along. So, it was a surprise to see him hop on the Tiny Bronco, explaining the sins he must atone for. It made sense, but a weird part of you sensed that it wasn’t the full truth, especially when he kept looking your way during his tiny monologue. It stirred something within you, having never felt an intensity such as his before. All in all, however, he was a quiet one, kept to himself, and very much an observer.

A very, very good observer.

Something that drew you to each other was neither of you were talkers. You’ve always been the reserved one of the group, not minding wandering around on your own while the others stayed together. The introvert in you enjoys the peace and quiet when able to have it, even though you love your found family. You assumed Vincent relates in some way because after the arrival to Costa Del Sol the first time, he has lingered by your side ever since. You didn’t mind the company, especially when there was a silent mutual understanding between you two.

What you did mind, however, was how utterly insane he’d make you feel. You don’t know if it’s all in your head, but day by day you swear he is advancing his way into your heart and loins. It started with simple glances that led to subtle grazes of his covered fingers on your exposed ones. The intimate moments have gradually increased, which have haunted your dreams in the most intimate of ways.

Back at the Golden Saucer, you and Vincent had been off on your own together. You both had stayed in the Queen’s Blood gaming area for a while, playing stacked games since you both were considered pros amongst most people. It was the last round, and you had a slight lead. You were waiting for him to take his turn, watching him contemplate his hand. You were hoping, praying even, that he didn’t see how you had set yourself up to win.

But of course, he had seen right through it. Once he plucked the card he wanted to use from his deck, you already knew it’s game over. You had let out a groan before he could put it down and the look in his eyes shifted as quickly as they had shifted back in amusement.

“You don’t even know what I am playing.”

“I can take a wild guess.”

“Hmm, is that so?” He had hummed, leaning in as close as he could without his body messing up the board. He had held his card between two of his left fingers, dangling the damn thing in front of you. “If you guess the specific card I’m about to play correctly, you win.”

You were in shock as he was one to never willingly gamble his wins. In your dysfunctional brain, you had thought about all of the cards he had in his possession. Vincent’s biggest asset as a player was knowing how to use his cards, often using ones that didn’t seem to do much on the surface. You had thought long and hard, debating between which cards he could have considered, before deciding there was only one that made the most sense.

“Grandhorn.”

Vincent chuckled, putting his card down, and low and behold the Grandhorn appeared. It boosted his score a point above yours, but it hadn’t mattered. You had won.

“So, I guess I won since I guessed correctly?”

“I suppose so, but I expected nothing less.” He had leaned in once more, a glimmer in his eyes as he looked you dead on. “Smart girl.”

The way he had said it had made your insides curl with delight. Having someone like him be so teasing and flirty in his own way with you had you flushed, and you knew he noticed. Before he had said anything to send you into another flushing fit, you had quickly gotten up and told him exactly what you wanted to do next.

You had dragged him over to the G-Bike game, insisting to play as you’ve always wanted to ride a motorcycle, even if it’s just in simulation form. However, within 30 minutes, you were flinging yourself left to right with frustration with the lack of ability to get at least a one-star rating. It wasn’t until you had felt a weight behind you, recognizable leather clad arms wrapping over yours, did you realize how fucked you really were. His body was pressed right against you with every limb touching your own. His fingers had curled over yours and his breath was brushing against the sensitive skin of your ear.

“ Give me the glasses ,” he murmured.

“Let me take you for a ride.”

Needless to say, you had to excuse yourself. You had felt a tinge of embarrassment at how you reacted, but it was quickly stomped out by how much you needed to relieve yourself. You had felt bad leaving Vincent alone to wander a place that was outside of what he was acclimated to, but the hormonal teen in your brain was screaming at you to do something.

You had been thankful that everyone was out doing their thing because the minute the hotel door was shut, you were on your bed with your hand down your pants. All you could think about was how good he felt against you. He was warm and you could feel everything; from the buckles, to the leather creases, to the outline of his long cock you felt pressed against your backside. With every twist and turn, your bodies would shift, and it created a friction so teasing that you couldn’t have helped but whimpered.

You had thought about his groans when you would accidentally push back on him. The sound had vibrated on your skin, proving how close his mouth was to your neck. You remembered how his cock twitched against you. Those thoughts had only made you rub your weeping cunt more, leading to more devious ones. You wondered what would’ve happened if you had just kept grinding on him. Would he have lost control? Would he have been as flushed as you had been 30 minutes prior? Picturing images of him flushed below you as you worked each other up had sent you spiraling into release, biting your arm so as to not cause any alarm.

You had a hard time looking at him the next day without your mind wandering to something sinful. Things have toned down since due to the interruption of plans, but his gazes have stayed firm. You could always feel the stare of his eyes burning into you, and it never failed to make you squirm and plunder.

Presently, all of you were on the dock, discussing the coordinates Vincent had found over the radio. A game plan was being formed, an agreement that the rest of the day should be one of rest and preparation before the journey tomorrow. The party started to disperse, some with tasks like gathering supplies and booking rooms for the night. You were left to your own devices, debating on what you wanted to do to pass the time. You look out onto the water, and you don’t know if it is the heat or the exhaustion in your muscles, but going for a swim sounded absolutely divine.

You heard the metal clanking of Vincent’s shoes behind you, making you turn around to greet him. The thoughts back at the saucer were begging to be reminded but you pushed them back, not sure if you would survive those them with him in front of you. He greets you with a hum, hovering very close to you to the point you have to look up at him. Damn, he is so tall!

Clearing your throat, you greet him back with your thumbs twiddling with each other nervously. “So, is there anything you want to do today?”

“That is entirely up to you. Wherever you’d like to go, I’ll follow.”

Your breath starts to shutter, but you cough to cover it up. You didn’t want to make it obvious how much he is affecting you right now, even though you are sure it didn’t matter what you did. He always knew.

“Well, this may sound crazy, but I kind of want to go swimming.”

“Oh?” His head tilts, eyes amused.

“Y-yeah, but I know you cannot be comfortable in this heat. I wouldn’t want to keep you in it.”

“I can manage.”

You laugh because of course he can. “If you say so, but I will need to get a swimsuit. You don’t mind coming with me to buy one, do you?”

He shakes his head, moving to your side to allow you to lead the way. You both start walking towards the bathing suit booth up ahead and as usual Vincent’s fingers linger by yours. There is no touching, but you can feel them right by you, causing your fingers to twitch. It’s driving you mad, and you are tired of him teasing you to the point of insanity. So out on a whim, confidence boosting, you let your hand grab his metal one. You feel his walk stutter, but he quickly recovers to let the gold claws wrap around your own.

You lead him to the booth right past the dock and start to look around. There are so many options, and you can feel yourself become a little overwhelmed at your choices.

“Is everything okay?” Vincent was behind you. You guess he can see the tension in your shoulders as you peruse the different styles.

“I guess I just don’t know what would be best to wear.” You admit.

The young woman running the booth must have been waiting for an opportunity to sell because the next thing you know she is right in front of you. “Good evening! Would you like some help?”

“Oh, uh…” Before you can utter anymore words, she continues her pitch.

“It is no trouble! I can curate some of our different pieces so you can decide which ones you like best!”

Before you can decline again, she is already ushering you to the changing booth, basically shoving you in. “I’ll be right back with some swimwear!”

You peek out and you can see Vincent about to walk over to the seller, irritation clear on his face. Shit.

“Vincent, come here!”

He turns to you before walking up. As he stops in front of you, you see how much his eyes are flared, burning more red than usual. You aren’t sure how to calm him down, not seeing him like this since the incident at Shinra Manor. You reach out, letting your palm rest against his cheek, hoping that will somehow ease his mind.

“She shouldn’t have put her hands on you. She is lucky to still be standing on her two feet.”

The protective nature he was exuding was endearing, but also very sexy. You put those thoughts on the backburner, bringing your hand to his neck to stroke the irritation there.

“I appreciate you looking out for me, but I promise it’s okay. I’m okay.” You reassure, squeezing his skin right above his collarbone. “Let me try on what she offers and then we can get out of here.”

“Alright, here are a few pieces I think would go perfectly with your style!” She hands you the pieces, and turns to Vincent, clueless to the absolute annoyance he wanted to convey in that moment. “I apologize, sir, but let’s give your lady friend some privacy.”

You see his eyes flare again, and you quickly shoot your other hand out from behind the curtain to keep him facing you. “It’s okay! He can stay!”

“Well, if you insist! Just no funny business you two!” She winks at you both and walks back to her station. You gulp out of a nervous habit, even though there is no spit to swallow. Is it that obvious that you two have some unspoken thing for one another?

“Okay, um, let me try these on.” You squeeze his arm in reassurance before going back into the changing booth. You close the curtain and lay out the pieces you were working with. You inspected each one, and you came to a horrifying conclusion: these were very revealing swimsuits.

There was nothing wrong with revealing swimwear, in fact you actually quite liked the ones the lady picked for you. However, Vincent was right outside and would see you in one of these. Would it be too much for him to see you so bare? You are very covered up in your usual attire, so this is a complete 180 and leaves little for the imagination.

You decide to try one on anyway, picking the one-piece swimsuit that is all black and has a long v-line cut. You strip away your clothes, and slip the suit on, adjusting it so everything is even. You go to tie the string in the back, but you can already tell it will be a challenge. You try to tie the knot, but you could feel yourself getting frustrated, grunting in aggravation as the tie keeps going undone.

“Are you okay?” Vincent called from outside, obviously hearing you struggle.

You sigh in defeat, ready for some assistance. “Um, I think I need help tying the string in the back. Can you give me a hand if I come out?”

You hear him hum in agreement, and you open the curtain and quickly turn your back. “Just the one string please.”

He hums again and gets to work, grabbing the two ends and crisscrossing them before pulling tightly. You hear him shuffle closer to you, and once again his breath is on your ear. “Is that tight enough for you?”

You freeze. He said it so quietly that you wonder if you are hallucinating but you know what you heard. He is teasing you again. He is trying to rile you up like he did at the Golden Saucer. Well, two can play at that game.

“Yes, that is good. Please tie it.” You feel him take a step back, and he ties the strings to ensure they stay together.

Once you feel his hands pull away, you turn to him to show off your swimsuit. It hugs you in all the right places, quite comfortably, and it covers you aside from the middle of your body. The v-line shows off your chest, covering your breasts and getting narrower until the point stops down at your belly button. You feel sexy and seeing Vincent’s reaction was the cherry on top.

You watch as his eyes take in your form. You see them wander from your chest to your sternum and it is crazy how much the red of his eyes get smaller as his pupils blow wide. His fingers tremble against his side with slight movement in his arms like he wants to reach out for you, but they stay in place. His control is absolutely astonishing.

“Vincent? Do I look okay?”

His eyes snap away, coughing in the process like he didn’t just eye fuck you. He rubbed his neck, forcing himself to look anywhere but towards you. “Yes, it looks fine.”

You release a smirk, feeling almost powerful seeing this man react the way he had. “Okay, well I am going to try the other ones on.”

You go back inside, and giggle quietly to yourself. It felt good to tease him. With how much he teases you, with how much he riles you up, it is his turn to be on the receiving end of torment. You rip off the one piece, and decide to put on one of the two pieces you were given to try.

The one you decide to put on is a dark red bikini. The top clips on, so you didn’t need assistance this time. You look in the mirror and you notice how much the top pushes out your breasts. The flesh sticks out, making them look so much bigger than they were. You don’t know if Vincent was a boob man or not, but all you can think is you can’t wait to find out.

“Hey Vincent, can you tell me if this looks okay? I’m not sure how I feel about this one.”

You push the curtain open just as he turns to look in your direction, and his look is priceless. You see him take a heeded breath, one hand turning into a fist and the other gripping his side in what appears to be a hard grip. You hold back a smile, not wanting to give hints to your actions, and walk towards him. You are now standing toe to toe with him, looking up at a man who clearly was losing his cool.

“Vincent, are you okay? You don’t look so good.” You coo, placing two fingers against his pulse point under his chin. He lets out a grunt at the contact, and your mind is reeling at how fast his pulse is going.

“Vincent, what are yo-”

“I’m fine.” He grunts, taking your hand away from his neck.

You let it drop, and turn around to the booth. “Just one more and we can go, okay? I’ll be quick.”

You don’t give him another glance as you go back in. You fist pump the air in success as giving him a taste of his own medicine was truly a sight to behold. You are ready to go in for the kill with the last one, which is another bikini. However, this one was black with stretchy black laces that wrap around your stomach. This one felt like a good in between from the other two, but you feel this one will affect him the most. You don’t know why, but something about the intricacies of how it covers your body is simply seducing.

You finish putting it on and you can’t help the excitement you feel. Out of the three, you like the way this one fits you the most. Not only is it comfortable, but it is an absolute confidence booster. It fits your body well and the laces across your waist accentuates it beautifully. Not only was this the swimsuit you would be purchasing, but you are excited to show it off to Vincent for another reaction.

You rip open the curtain, cutting right to the chase, only to see he is no longer where he once stood. You hop out of the booth, looking around for the spiky black hair and red cloak, only to see him nowhere in sight.

“You looking for your boyfriend, babes?”

You turn to see the seller approaching you, the word boyfriend not even registering. You just want to find him.

“Yeah, did you see where he went?”

She nods over to the dock, back where the Tiny Bronco was located. “He went onto the dock. He seemed to be in quite a rush.”

You quickly thank her. You grab your things from the changing booth, and quickly round up the gil for the swimsuit you were wearing. “Thank you, keep the change.”

You run back to the dock and see the Bronco’s door slightly ajar. You push the door open, not wanting to alarm him as you climb on. You see him sitting on the bench in the very back, hands clutching his head and breathing heavy. Alarmed by how he is reacting, you make yourself known and slowly approach where he is sitting.

“Vincent, are you okay?”

He grunts roughly, fingers visibly clutching his head harder. “You need to get off.”

You contemplated your next move. You could listen and get off, let him calm himself down. But then you think what if he can’t calm down? What if his mind spirals from his thoughts? Would you leaving really make things better or worse?

You think back to the time when you first met him, how defeated he looked after he had transformed back. How he had stared you down, taking your breath away at how utterly disheveled and beautiful he looked. He had been alone for so long, and that thought turned your rational mind off. You weren’t going to run. He needed you.

“Vincent, I am not going anywhere.”

His head shoots up, his eyes crimson and face scrunched up like he was holding himself back. He notices your final change of the evening and the growl he lets out is feral. “You,” he snarls, “better not take a single step more.”

You stop again, realization hitting you like a freight train. Did I do this? Did I go too far?

“Did I do something to upset you?” You ask quietly, afraid of what his response was going to be. “If I did, I am so sorry.”

He doesn’t respond, still looking to the ground although his breathing has subsided slightly. You approach him again, this time making it so you were only a foot away.

“You don’t want this.” He mutters.

“What do you mean?”

“I am a monster. The baggage I bring with me, the absolute madness that stirs from within. I don’t know if I can control myself, and that scares me, which means it will scare you.”

You can’t understand what he is saying. “You don’t scare me, Vincent. You could never scare me.”

He grunts out a laugh, like he doesn’t believe a word out of your mouth. “You don’t understand what primal thoughts are going through my mind right now.”

“Well, try me.” You reach out for his face, wanting to touch him, but his right hand grabs your wrist.

“You don’t know what you want, so stop this.”

You feel like you could cry. The whiplash you are receiving after he has gotten under your skin only to rip himself away is too much. How dare he make your blood run hot and then make it go cold in an instant? You rip your arm away, taking a step back. Your gaze falls to the Bronco’s floor, feeling stupid at your attempt to draw him in. Your arms wrap around your body, sequestering it away from his gaze.

“You don’t know what I want, so stop putting words into my mouth.” You choke out. Your fists are clenching on your tummy, anger starting to bubble to the surface. “I know you know how I feel about you because you wouldn’t continue to rile me up the way you do if you didn’t. I wouldn’t react the way I do if I didn’t. Truthfully, I love it. So don’t you dare tell me that I don’t know what I want.”

Everything goes quiet. The only thing that can be heard is the heavy breathing on both of your ends. Your anger disappears and is replaced with disappointment. You don’t know if there is any way to convince him, and you aren’t going to be made a fool in the process.

“I know what I want.” You say softly. “I have desires too.”

It all happens so quickly, your body jolting forward until you are straddling his lap. You gasp, immediately feeling his hard on against your own clothed slit. He’s bigger than I thought, you think, for a man so skinny and sculpted . Two golden claws tilt your chin up, forcing you to be face to face with him. He is much taller than you, so he is slightly over you as he closes in. His breath fans over your lips, eyes erratic and glazed.

You let out a shaky sigh, letting your hands travel up to his face, cupping his cheeks gently as if to let him know what he wants to do is okay. “Do it. Show me you want me too.”

Lips press against yours instantly. It’s intense and intimate with the way he still has a hold on your chin and the way his free arm wraps around your waist to keep you grounded against him. You don’t know if it is the way he has you pressed to him or the way he surrounds your senses, but you feel calm. Even with the aggressive nature of his kisses, it is like he has seeped under your skin, a venomous serum to calm his prey down before he devours. You want more. You need more.

Your hands travel up past his temples to the back of his head, curling your fingers around his black locks. You pull delicately, not knowing how keen he was on pain, only to hear the most delicious whine leave his mouth into yours. You take the opportunity to let your tongue touch his, already becoming addicted to the way he tastes. His grip got tighter on you, trying to pull you in closer even if it wasn’t possible. There was an urgency in his actions as if what you two were doing was too much yet not enough.

His erection was starting to react more and more against you. You could feel yourself growing restless with the need for some sort of contact. You work to shift your knees slightly, spreading them out more across the bench, and start to grind against the shape of his length.

A growl from the deepest part of his throat rips out into the open. The claws of his gauntlet let go of your chin and latch to your hip. You stop your movements, thinking he was going to stop you, but he does no such thing. He pushes you down further onto his crotch, moving you himself to urge you to keep going. You follow his movements, letting him guide you back and forth on his cock. All you can think about is how large he is, and how good he feels against your pussy. However, it still isn’t enough.

You move a hand down to your bottoms, sliding the part covering your heat to the side to get more friction. You can’t help the moan that leaves you the second your clit rubs against the leather of his pants, the roughness different from that of the silk. You move your hips faster, not skipping a beat as to chase a release.

“That’s it,” Vincent growls against your lips. “Just like that.”

His encouragement sends dopamine right to your brain, giving your hips a mind of their own as you continue to rut against him. Your hips start to tire, becoming noticeable as your knees give out slightly before you readjust. Your mind begs you to keep going, begging to keep your pace so you can reach any type of peak.

Your knees collapse again, and next thing you know your knees are no longer on the bench but spread far apart by Vincent’s thighs. His garbed hands are on your ass to keep you right where he wants you, and with the motion of his own hips he is rocking up into you slowly with firm pressure. You release his lips, your head resting on his shoulder as he grinds up into your cunt.

“Fuck, Vincent,” you drawl out, gripping his hair tighter with the hand still there, your other hand finding purchase on his shoulder.

Vincent was having none of that, his right hand shoots to your head to pull it back to face him. What you see invigorates you, as Vincent’s eyes no longer had a red presense. They were the color of the light of day before dusk. The whites of his eyes were illuminated, and his canines had elongated drastically.

“Is this what you wanted?” Vincent hisses. “Do you still want this?”

The self-pity in his eyes was becoming, and you weren’t having any of that. You were not about to have the man, who is making you go crazy by just nuzzling his long cock into your nethers, get distressed by disillusions. Your left hand drops from his head, dipping down where both of your crotches meet. The tips of your fingers dip into your dripping cunt, the evidence clear as day on his leathers. But if you must show extra proof, you will.

You stuff two of your fingers into your hole, still making eye contact with his yellow orbs as you let your face contort. Your fingers come out covered in your sticky fluid, translucent webbing formed in between your fingers. You bring it between your faces, your eyes bold and lips curling devilishly. “Does this answer your question?”

You don’t know what possessed you, but you let those fingers touch his lips. You pull his lower lip down, seeing if he would let his tongue travel out for a taste. You hum approvingly when he lets the tip give a small lick, and moan all together when he starts to lick them clean. Seeing Vincent obey such a small, unspoken command was the sexiest thing you have witnessed to date, and it makes you want to push him even more.

You pull your fingers away, causing him to follow them to continue getting his fill. “Look at you,” you purr. “Like a kitten begging for milk.”

“You are one to talk.” He grumbles, thrusting his hips up so it rubs right against your clit. “You’re the one rubbing your bare cunt against me.”

A high-pitched moan wrangles from your throat as he bounced you up and down, followed by a sex drunken laugh. “Why don’t we change that?”

You push his chest so he is leaning way back on the bench, allowing you to steady yourself as you unbuckle his belts. As soon as you open his fly, his bulge pushes outward and you can hear the sigh of relief leave his lungs. Your hands dip into his underwear, pulling the elastic down to release his cock fully. His cock springs up, precum drooling from his swollen head. Your hand wraps around the tip, squeezing to see another pearl form. Your thumb sweeps over it, gathering as much as you can, before bringing it up to your mouth with the need to taste him.

If Vincent’s eyes could glow brighter, they would have blinded you with the way he was watching you. You let your thumb pop out of your mouth, letting some spit travel down your hand before rubbing it over his cock. You readjust once more, angling your hips so your clit would connect with his tip with each roll, and sit right back onto his lap. You both cry out in unison, both of you sensitive and in dire need of release. You crash your lips against his as you roll your hips in a slow, yet firm rhythm. Your hands grip at his hair, loving the way he ruts into you when you pull on it. You don’t hold back, too far gone to tease the daylights out of him, moaning into his mouth every time the head of his cock kisses your bud.

Vincent wasn’t faring any better, his volume only increasing at the friction. He releases your lips, his head falling onto your shoulder with a long groan. You feel tiny prickles against your skin, his fangs grazing it as he kisses and sucks on your flesh. His hands go over the strings of your swimsuit, gripping the skin of your waist to pull you closer.

His mouth proceeds up your shoulder to your jaw, nipping your pulse point before licking it. The difference between the movement of his hips and his lips is drastic. His lips move slowly, caressing the skin after every love bite he gives you like you are delicate, while his hips buck into you with conviction. It is like he doesn’t know whether he wants to cherish you, or prove to you how much of a monster he can be.

Both of your essences are mixing as you continue, creating easier movement and a more heavenly feeling. You can feel yourself getting close to your release, hips flying back and forth trying to grasp onto it. It isn’t until your hips give out, a frustrated whine leaving you as the peak downtrails.

“Don’t you dare give up on me.” Vincent orders into your ear.

“Fuck, I can’t,” you sob, the ache in your hips and knees showing as you start to slow down.

You don’t fully comprehend what happens next, not until you feel the cold metal of the Bronco’s floor on your back. Vincent yanks your bottoms down your legs, exposing all you have to offer to him. He is on you, hunched over you as he thrusts against your fully exposed cunt. You can’t help but shove your head into the crevice of his neck, wailing at how fast he is going. You are surprised he hasn’t accidentally slipped in with how wet you are, the sounds coming from your nethers making that more apparent.

“I am so close, fuck!” You whimper. You are on the cusp. You needed something. Just a little push to put you over. “Please, please, please, Vincent! I need it so bad! I need you!”

You feel his fangs against your shoulder, nipping and licking the same spot over and over again. A warm sensation fills you, not registering it until the piercing pain of his incisors sink into your skin. It hurts so good, the combination of pain and pleasure shooting through your system. It sets the tone for your release, causing you to scream into his shoulder. It is electrifying, ecstasy filling in the gaps as your orgasm rolls in waves. Vincent wasn’t far behind, and something about your blood must have sent him into a frenzy. His hips are going inhumanly quick, and after a few more thrusts he ejects his fangs from your body as he cums.

His moans echoing into your ear has you gripping onto him harder, comforting him as he rides out his high. Fingers stroke the hairs on the back of his neck, hushing him soothingly as his body shakes. It isn’t long after he starts groaning, his grip tightening on your thighs.

“Are you okay?” You ask worried, lifting his head so you can get a good look at him. But what you see stirs something from deep within your chest.

You don’t know if it’s because golden hour has reached its peak, but he looks ethereal. His fangs were no more, but there was blood that has stained his mouth. The beams of golden light reflect off of him, his pale skin shining from the light perspiration on his face. He looks so beautiful in the sun’s rays, like an angel wrapped in light. His eyes slowly open, and a soft gasp leaves your lips. His eyes were no longer illuminating yellow. His eyes, the vibrancy of them, have transformed into the sun. Their usual molten color is bright like the sun's surface. His usual orange rings that surround his pupil are golden, and you can see your reflection in the deep black.

He takes a minute to gather himself before nodding, a sigh passing through his lips before sitting up on his knees. You peer down to your lower half, which is now covered in his seed and your own mess. Vincent’s eyes are glued to your mound, his cum having pooled there from his heavy release. After a moment, he takes his leather glove off his right hand, skin pale and blue from the veins protruding. His fingers dip into his cooled cum, letting it collect on his fingers before pulling his hand away.

“Vincent, what are yo-” you start before you watch him bring his fingers towards your lips. He lets them hover, waiting to see if you would be as keen to sampling him again like he did with you.

A light chuckle leaves your lips. He is just full of surprises.

You sit up on your elbows, your mouth pressing light kisses to his fingers before indulging. Your eyes flutter close, a quiet moan rumbling from your chest as take in his taste for a second time. He tastes neutral, nothing too bitter or too musky. It tastes exactly as you expected. Because it was him, he tasted absolutely delectable. And you can’t get enough.

“Look at you,” Vincent mimics your tone from earlier, smirking in the process. “Like a kitten begging for milk.”

His fingers leave your mouth, making you chase after them until he kisses you suddenly. The iron attacks your senses pleasantly, and his humming tells you that his seed is having the same effect on him. You both stay there for a while, just kissing in each other’s mess, and before you know it the sky has turned into its orange hue before the nightfall.

You decide to pull away first, bringing your hands to his face to soothe the sweat dried skin. “I don’t want this to end, but we should get going. The others may be wondering where we wandered off to.”

He hums slowly, like he was debating whether he cared or not, but ultimately decided to sit fully up. He puts his cock back into his leathers, getting himself situated before he helps you stand up properly. Your body doesn’t feel real from how drained your muscles are, and you think he can tell by the way he guides your hands to his shoulders. He brings your bottoms over to your legs, and urges you to put your feet through the openings. Using his shoulders as leverage, you do as he silently instructs and he pulls them up until you are covered. You look down and see the cum has dried on your skin, and the thought of anyone possibly seeing it makes your cheeks burn, knowing you’d never live it down.

“Do you think anyone will notice?”

Instantly, like he was already planning to do this, he undid the buckles of his cape and wrapped it around your shoulders. With him being such a broad and tall man, his cape covered you very well and hid the evidence of your coupling.

“It gets cool during nightfall. It won’t be suspicious.”

“But what about your pants? There is cum on them too.”

“Truthfully, I don’t care.”

You pull the cape closer to you, inhaling and exhaling his scent, filling your brain with a sense of safety. Vincent believed he wasn’t deserving of you, that he was a danger to you and others. But when you feel such a sense of security with him, how can he not see that you need him?

He finishes putting his glove back on, flexing his fingers before he goes to open the door of the Bronco. Your brain reacts first, hand grabbing his arm before he could expose you both to the outside world. You needed to know something. You needed to know if he still feels how he felt earlier.

“Vincent, can I ask you something?”

He turns to you, curiosity peaking. He places his golden fingers over the hand gripping his arm, signaling for you to ask your question.

“You don’t regret what just happened, do you? I’m not going to wake up like it was yesterday, am I?”

There is silence, and you mentally hit yourself for the lack of confidence, your voice having dropped to a whisper. Your head drops again, worried about what was about to not be said, before you feel a gentle kiss on the top of your head.

“There is nothing to regret,” he murmurs. “Especially when it comes to you.”

You lift your head up, eyes meeting his, before letting a smile form on your face. His facial features match your own, and he brings you in for a sweet kiss before you two return to the others. You don’t think about them though, because all you can think is that he let you in.

He willingly let you in.

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