#or she was asking this question about someone else?

[criminalamnesia]

Traitor part 8

ALL PARTS CAN BE FOUND HERE

here it is everyone :)) took me forever but it’s finally here! now I can disappear in peace lol. I’ll proofread everything later, but I hope this lives up to everyone’s expectations. thank you all for the love you’ve given this series. I hope this gives you some closure.

let me know if you want any drabbles from the series <3

thank you again!

after kyle finally leaves you alone, you slink back against the door, shutting your eyes so tightly stars dot your vision.

it never ends, does it?

apologies. worry. sympathy. pity.

it was in each of their eyes— the one-four-one. each of them trying to mask their pity for you behind sickening sympathy. you were exhausted of that look— not just from them, but from everyone you had walked past or looked at since everything had happened.

you open your eyes, scanning the room. what once had been a haven had become a hell. shattered glass sprinkled the floor near the mirror. clothes were still strewn about. you hadn’t bothered picking up what had been disturbed.

you’d be gone too soon for it to matter.

your phone rings then, the screen lighting up in the dimly lit room. you let the ring tone play for a second longer before you’re moving, reaching for the device on your nightstand.

it’s kate, and you breathe a sigh of relief.

“hello?” you say as you answer the call.

“it’s kate,” comes the woman’s familiar voice through the speaker. “im on my way to base. should be there by tomorrow.”

you startle, eyebrows raising in confusion. “you’re coming here? why?”

you hear her sigh. “we can talk about it tomorrow. I need to meet with john, anyways. two birds, one stone and all that.” she tells you.

“can you at least tell me if the paper work is all set for my transfer?” you ask.

she doesn’t answer for a moment, and then:

“we’ll talk about it tomorrow, sergeant. get some rest. you sound like you need it.”

you hear a click, and then the line goes dead. you furrow your brows as you look down at the phone in your hand.

why on earth would she come all the way here just to talk?

your mind is moving a mile a minute, and suddenly, it clicks.

laswell is coming here to do damage control.

you huff a mirthless laugh, dropping your phone as your hands come up to run through your hair.

you weren’t being reassigned. you were being discharged.

but was it at her insistence, or someone else’s?

you whip around, wrenching open the door and storming down the hall to price’s office. those you pass in the hallway give you bewildered stares, and suddenly you’re aware that you’re still in that damned robe, but you’re on a mission.

and when you start something, you see it through.

you don’t bother knocking as you reach price’s door. instead, you barge into the office, effectively interrupting an argument between price and simon. their voices die off, heads turning to appraise who had barged in.

price’s eyes widen at the sight of you, but simon’s face is as unreadable as always. the door clicks shut behind you, and you stalk towards the two men, your fists clenched as you seethe.

“you motherfuckers,” you hurl the words at them, “you fucking knew. you knew.”

“love, what are you talkin’ about?” price questions, his brows furrowed as he turns to you.

“laswell,” you say, and price’s eyes widen. he knows. and now he knows you know.

“whatever she told you—”

“she didn’t tell me shit,” you huff. “I figured it out. why the fuck else would she come here just to talk? she’s playing fucking babysitter, isn’t she?”

price doesn’t speak. your gaze flits to simon’s.

“I’m sure you were rooting for this outcome, weren’t you? couldn’t finish me off in that fucking room, but hey, this is just as good, isn’t it? sending me back to fucking nothing.”

“this job is my life,” you turn your attention back to the captain. “and you fuckers just can’t stop ruining it, can you?” your voice is raising, and tears prick the corners of your eyes. you’re becoming hysteric.

“all because of a fucking lie!” you’re yelling now, jabbing a finger into the chest of your former captain.

“calm down,” the sound of simon’s rough baritone leads your head to snap toward him. your eyes are wide, fury and terror blazing in them.

and he expects you to let loose. scream and hit and scream some more. but you don’t.

you stand there and you stare at him with those wide eyes. the rest of the room— hell, the world falls away— and it’s just him and you.

like it was on patrol during countless nights, your bare fingers dancing over his gloved hands as you prattled on about a show you liked.

on countless nights curled up in his bed, your back to him, pressed so close he could feel the beat of your heart in his own chest. his arms wrapped around you, one of your fingers lazily tracing the ink on his forearm. no words spoken, yet so much said.

in the field, when you and johnny bicker over comms and he takes your side. when you take a bullet to the shoulder and he holds pressure on it until evac arrives.

when he makes eye contact with you as you pin kyle to the training mat, finally able to overcome his strength. when price tells him you’re the rat and he doesn’t want to believe it.

it’s just him and you. a lieutenant and his sergeant. but it’s more than that.

it’s a deep understanding of this job being your life. of losing everything and everyone you hold dear. of finding family again in this team, and doing whatever it takes to keep that family safe.

and he fully realizes, then, what you have been condemned to.

what they condemned you to.

what he condemned you to.

he breaks from his thoughts as you slam your fist into his jaw.

price’s eyes widen, his feet carrying him forward to intervene, but simon waves him off as he cradles a hand to his jaw.

“let ‘em,” he grunts out, and price looks bewildered, but he nods. he takes a step back, his hands falling to his sides, and he lets you strike again.

“fuck you,” you seethe, and despite your best efforts, your voice cracks. emotion seeps in, and your eyes are wet as you swipe a leg out from under him, forcing him to his knees.

he falls with no grace, knees hitting the concrete floor with a dull thud. you’d cringe if this were any other circumstance.

instead, you deliver another blow, cracking his nose with the force of it. blood sprays out and wets your robe.

“ghost—” price begins from somewhere off to the side, but simon just shakes his head.

“fuck you, simon! fuck you!” you scream at him, and your fists are flying blindly as tears cloud your eyes.

and he just takes the hits. you subconsciously register the sound of the office door squeaking as it opens and quickly closes. price didn’t want to be a bystander any longer, it seems.

but he still didn’t jump in. was it because of ghost’s insistence? or because your captain didn’t want to watch one of his soldiers finally snap?

you finally stop yourself when blood drips from your knuckles. unsurprisingly, they’ve split again. there’s no doubt in your mind that there will be little scars between each of them once they’ve healed.

more to add to the reminder of everything. god, at this point you knew you’d never forget it even if you wanted to. even if you tried to. even if you did for a brief moment, those little white lines— discolored and jagged skin in the place of what should be smooth and unmarred, would be your reminder.

blood pools on the floor, a mix of yours and simon’s. you pay it no mind as you wipe the backs of your hands on your completely ruined robe. good— now you had a great excuse to throw the damned thing away.

you would’ve thrown it away anyways.

you bring your hands to your eyes, wiping away tears that had freed themselves their cage. you see simon clearly then, his face bloodied and yet still beautiful in that way of his. his nose is obviously broken. lacerations above his eye and on his cheekbones.

his eyes are staring back you, the icy blue of them never more intense than now.

you heave in your breaths as you look at him. his split lip cracks further as he opens his mouth.

“done?”

and you don’t have anything left to give, so you nod. then you slump to your knees, down onto his level, and you don’t look away from what you’ve done.

it’s no different than what you did to the doctor, or to countless enemies in the field. but, at the same time, it is different.

because it’s him, and he let you do this. he could have easily stopped you. he’d shown his strength against you numerous times on the sparring mat, picking you up and tossing you around with ease.

and yet he didn’t stop you.

“why?” you ask him, and it’s a loaded question. your voice is a watery tremble, and the word comes out as a whisper, but he doesn’t shy away.

he shrugs. “you needed it.”

he’s focusing on one aspect of the question— on why he let you hit him. you open your mouth to respond, but he surprises you by speaking again.

“least I could do,” he says.

you close your mouth, your chapped lips pressed into a thin line. why is he doing this now? saying this now? what changed?

“is it your fault, then? that I’m being discharged?” you find yourself asking, and you’re not sure if you want to know the answer.

maybe you just want a reason to hate him more.

“no,” he says, and you know he means it.

he never lied to you, regardless of any pain it may have saved. it was one of the things you had loved about him.

he sighs. “I didn’t want you to go.”

that surprises you. simon was never one to freely speak on his feelings. he had opened up to you during your relationship, but it was as if there was always an invisible line he could never cross. never did he utter the complete truth to his thoughts or feelings. and you had accepted that— because that is who he was.

and you would take him with all his walls if it just meant that you could have him.

“I don’t want you to.” he corrects himself.

the room falls silent around you. the part of you that still holds love for him yearns for his embrace at this moment. but you push that side of you down. you will not go crawling back, not after what happened.

“you’ve been an asshole,” you say, and he gives a curt nod.

“probably.” he concedes. “but I wouldn’ take anythin’ back. I told you, I meant what I said.”

“is that supposed to make me feel better?” you ask. god, he has a horrible way with words.

“no,” he tells you. “nothin’ I can say can do that.”

you snort. you fall back on you haunches, your hands in your lap as you look at him.

“I am never going to forgive you,” you tell him, words full of so much hurt.

he nods again. “I know. I don’ blame you. don’ expect you to, neither.”

“but I’m…” he starts, and his lips crease in a frown. “im sorry.”

you just look at him. perhaps you had wanted an apology at one moment in time, but now? now none of it mattered.

“I hope so,” you tell him. you move to stand, and he remains still. he hasn’t moved an inch since you’d finished your assault.

“I hope you feel this way for the rest of your lonely life. I hope that you never forget what you did to me, and I hope that it keeps you up at night. because I can tell you with certainty that I will never forget. and I hope the others remember, too. I hope it tears you all apart from the inside. that it follows you around for the rest of your career.”

you breathe in, then out. “and I hope no one ever gives you the chances I did,” your voice is soft. “because I would never wish what you did to me on the next person you think you love.”

his face conveys no emotion other than the small frown still on his lips. his eyes, so cold, have softened the tiniest bit. you used to love when you could bring out that softness inside of him. when it was just the two of you, your hand in his, his eyes on you.

those memories would suffocate you if you let them. what could’ve been will suffocate you. you refuse to let it.

you turn and stalk towards the door, not bothering to spare him another glance. you open it, stepping out into the hallway, coming face-to-face with the rest of the one-four-one.

their eyes are all wide as they take you in. your bloodied hands and robe. the dried tear streaks on your cheeks. you pull the door shut behind you before you speak.

“i don’t care to speak to kate,” you say to price, your eyes meeting his. “fuck her for not giving me a chance. and fuck you for laying down like a damn dog and not fighting for your fucking team.”

you turn to johnny next. “you shove your sorries up your ass, mactavish. I don’t want your sympathy, and I don’t want your pity. I hope your regret eats you alive.”

finally, kyle. “and you,” you glare at him. “if anyone other than simon should’ve defended me, it should’ve been you. I met you first, kyle. you were my closest friend, my brother. and you turned out to be just another fucking lap dog.”

you shake your head, blinking away hot tears. “I want you to get me temporary housing and a car because that’s the least you owe me, after ruining my life. and I don’t want to hear from any of you ever again. if I do, I guarantee you I will not show you the mercy you think you showed me when you had me tied up in that chair.”

none of them spoke, and you didn’t give them a chance to as you pushed past them, heading back toward your room to change.

a yellow cab retrieves you from base the next morning before kate arrives. it’s still dark outside when you leave the shelter that had once been home. rain pours down around you, a raging storm hanging overhead as it had all night prior. perhaps it was a reflection of your mood. you liked to think that it was.

you toss your duffle bag into the trunk, shutting it before climbing into the back seat. you hadn’t bothered to pack anything other than a few pairs of clothes you’d recovered from the floor of your room. everything else could be trashed, especially anything the boys had given you.

the driver doesn’t speak— price had given him all the information he needed— and paid him— before he’d fetched you. it seems your final outburst— and beating simon to a pulp— had finally put some urgency in his movements.

none of them had seen you off, per your request. you thought it was the least they could do for you after continuously disrespecting your boundaries.

(unbeknownst to you, simon had watched you leave through a window.)

the driver turned up the music— some pop song you didn’t know the name of— and you slumped in your seat, your head turned toward the window as you watched the rain race down it.

you found yourself drifting off quickly, and you didn’t try to fight it. you’re finally free of that place and the men you thought were your family. free of the anxiety of seeing them around every corner. free of the hate that sparked in your heart every time you heard their voices.

you sleep, and for the first time since before everything, it’s peaceful.

you wake to the taxi driver talking to you.

“we’re here,” he says, knocking on the glass separating the front and back seats. “can you get out now? I gotta get home. it’s my wife’s birthday.”

you blink the sleep from your eyes, nodding before you even register what he’s saying. “sorry,” you mumble as you fumble with the seat belt.

you slip from the car, your boots splashing in a muddy puddle. you grimace as the murky water seeps in, wetting your socks.

you trudge around to the back of the car, opening the trunk and retrieving your bag. you’ve just shut the trunk and stepped back when the car is driving off, kicking up mud that further dirties your boots and jeans.

you pay it little mind as you look at the small cottage before you.

nestled between some trees, it’s beautiful. a shingled roof. light blue paneled siding. a small front porch with a rocking chair and a bench swing. a beautiful dark blue door.

your favorite flowers live in the flower beds surrounding what you can see of the house. it makes you wonder if its a simple coincidence or if simon or price planned it.

how long have they known that you would have to come here? that you would have no where else to go except for where they put you?

you vowed that this house would just be temporary. you would get away from it as soon as possible, putting the rest of the one-four-one behind you. you didn’t want any of them knowing where to find you.

the rain slows to a sad drizzle. drops prick your skin as you make no effort to avoid puddles, splashing carelessly to the front door. you can hear birds beginning to chirp, slipping out of their hiding places as the sun’s rays begin to illuminate the earth once more.

a new beginning, you think.

you reach a hand toward the door knob, twisting it open and pushing inside. it’s a cozy little place with wood floors and a brick fireplace. it’s furnished, but there’s no personality to it. it clearly hasn’t been somebody’s home.

the door clicks shut behind you as you toe off your boots and drop your duffle by the door. as you nudge your boots out of the way with a foot, you notice an envelope on the floor.

eyebrows scrunched in confusion, you lean down and scoop it up. your name is written on the front in a scrawl you don’t recognize.

who else knows you’re here?

perhaps you’ll need to leave sooner than you thought.

you push your thumb under the seam, ripping it open with little finesse. inside is a typed letter. it’s an offer, you realize. a job offer.

its got an american stamp on it, and its signed by a phillip graves.

a new beginning indeed.

[writersdrug]

Someone sent an anonymous ask about Soap being all whiny and jealous, complaining to Simon about how lucky he is to have such a pretty, curvy girl and Tumblr swallowed it 😫 (This is gonna be a 2 parter)

Warnings: nsfw, threesome, sub soap and reader, dom ghost, training, voyeurism

But I can imagine Ghost would be so sick and tired of it. Johnny's constantly yapping like the mutt he truly is: "Yer a lucky man, LT. Findin' a pretty bird like that." "Where'd ye get her? Need to find one for myself." "She as soft as she sounds?"

Ghost wants to snap at him for talking about you like that - he shouldn't be talking about you at all. But he knows the poor man is just lonely, aching to have something soft and supple like you. Your smiling face smushed between Ghost's fingers when you come to drop off the lunch he forgot. The jeans that fit snuggly around your ass and thighs, the shirt that hugs the swell of your breasts, stretched thin as it barely contains them... poor Johnny boy can't help but whine at the sight of something so appetizing, so soft and warm right there - he's jealous of his LT. How did someone so hard around the edges pluck something so sweet?

Simon hates to see him so upset, pouting in the corner like a scolded puppy as you stare at your boyfriend with stars in your eyes. Johnny could have a girl, but he gets overeager: fucking them on the first date, leaving them sore and bitten and tearful. He's too rough, and they're quick to excuse themselves, fleeing the next morning and blocking him from all social media.

Johnny needs to learn to be patient and gentle with his toys. He's nice enough to let the sergeant practice with his own pretty girl, and you're more than happy to assist Soap with his green-eyed monster.

After a nice dinner at his LT's house, served by you - along with some bronze, liquid courage - Johnny sits on the recliner, chatting with Ghost, who's relaxed on the sofa. You enter the living room and stand next to Simon, biting your lip excitedly and staring between the two of them. Simon wraps an arm around your waist and pulls you to sit on the arm of the sofa.

"Y' think she's pretty?" He asks Johnny, who blinks.

Gorgeous. Comely. Ravishing. "Course I do." He responds plainly, trying not to get worked up over the way you're perched next to his LT so prettily.

"Yea, you do..." Simon mutters, squeezing the flesh at your thigh. "What's it you said? 'She must look nice, spillin' out my hands’?"

Soap is nothing short of mortified. His eyes are wide, staring back at Simon - he doesn't know what to say. He said those things within the secrecy of his conversation with his lieutenant - he didn't expect him to repeat it outside of that bubble, let alone in front of you, the person in question.

"N' what else was it? 'Need t' have a pretty li'l wife with a rack like that to lay my head-"

"Simon!!"

Soap finally glares at his LT, his fingers digging into his own thighs. His heart is pounding in his chest. Is Ghost trying to get you to hate him?

You giggle and stand upright. "It's ok, Johnny." You coo, slowly walking over to him with your hands behind your back. "I like it. It means you like me."

Soap has little time to do anything but grunt when you swing a leg over his thighs and seat yourself in his lap. Your cleavage is right there, just inches from his face, and he can feel the bare skin of your thighs burning through his trousers.

"Help me take this off?" You tug at the skirt of your dress, looking down at him with those innocent, glossy eyes.

He can't breathe. His clothes are too hot and too tight, his cock nearly choking in the confines of his pants. He looks to his lieutenant for help - Ghost just smiles, like he's watching his favorite porn. He might be, depending on how this plays out.

"Go on, Johnny. Slowly."

Johnny wants to be anything but slow, once he realizes his best friend is showing you off like a collectible toy. He looks back up at you, watching the way your plump lip catches between your teeth. He carefully reaches around, grabbing the back of your neckline and tugging the zipper down - slowly, as he was instructed. He can barely focus on the movement with your breasts right there, imagining what they'd taste like between his warm lips. The shoulders of your dress fall away, revealing the lacy bra you're wearing. He looks up at you, drool pooling under his tongue as you slide your hands over his shoulders, one coming around to play with the base of his mohawk.

"You can take it off." You whisper.

He wastes no time, his hands smoothing up your back and unclasping your bra in one motion. He helps you pull it from your shoulders - your breasts, round and full, now pressing against his chest. He wants to touch. He needs to touch.

He shoots a hungry, pleading look to Ghost - he nods back at Soap, which is all the sergeant needs to absolve his filthy behavior. He closes your breast in his palm, eyes hazy as he takes your nipple into his warm mouth. He hardly has to move his head forward because you lean into his mouth, your fingers grasping at his hair and your back arching deliciously. Johnny groans, using one hand to dig his fingers into the thick flesh at your hips, and his other to press his palm against your lower back. He shifts himself down as his tongue swirls around your nipple, groans leaving his throat and reverberating against the bud, quickly hardening from his ministrations. You sound so sweet, high-pitched coos and soft breaths pouring from between your lips as you press your weight against Soap, shoving your breast as far into his mouth as he can take. You kiss the crown of his head, whispering a good boy against his skin.

He practically whines, bucking his hips upwards, relishing in how your body grounds him into the sofa cushions. He releases your breast with a pop and quickly takes the other one into his hand, sealing his lips over it with a hum. He looks up at you through wanting, begging eyes as you toss your head back, squeezing your thighs around his hips. His tongue undulates against your stiffening peak, slobbering around the underside of your breast as he gives you another experimental jerk of his hips. You gasp, rolling your hips back down onto him and staring at him with your lust-blown pupils.

His cock is demanding to be let free. He's going to fuck you hard, he's going to pound you into the chair until you're begging, showing his LT just how much of a good boy he is. He's never felt this blazing forest fire within his veins, setting off nerve after nerve and burning a trail right down to his hard, throbbing member.

He hooks his fingers into the hem of your soaked panties, fully intending to rip them off - but you quickly grab his wrist and yank his hand away. He looks at you, blinking through his trance as a look of confusion settles on his face. "Wha's wrong?"

You giggle his expression - the sound goes straight to his tip with another rush of blood. "These are for Simon." you whisper, slowly pushing yourself off of Soap's lap. He lets his arms fall to his sides with a desperate look, letting you back away, right into Ghost's waiting lap.

"Gonna show ya a thing or two, Johnny." he says, pulling you back to his chest. "Teach ya a few tricks, maybe you'll be able t' keep a woman longer than a day." he pulls a switchblade from his pocket and flicks it open. The blade drags down over your belly - you chew your lip as it electrifies your skin, the tip sliding lower and lower until he's running it over your pussy. The fabric is soaked as he lingers there, the sharp edge barely separated from your cunt by your flimsy, drenched panties.

You stare at Soap, not once breaking eye contact as Ghost slices through the fabric. Soap's mouth is agape in disbelief and lust, enamored by the sight before him. He can't tear his eyes from the view of your sopping, glistening pussy, watching as Simon slides his thick fingers over your folds. He catches his thumb under the hood of your clit and you jolt, shooting a hand down to grab his wrist - but he doesn't stop. You whine and mewl, leaning your head back against his shoulder as he flicks the bud, strumming over it slowly.

He stares Soap in the eyes, watching his reaction. "Alright there, Johnny?"

He's drooling, mouth hung open, hypnotized by the way your muscles clench with each stroke of Simon’s thumb. “… Aye…” he manages to say – his fingers dig into the cushions beneath him as he tries to control the urge to tear across the room and drive his cock into your cunt, fucking you against his lieutenant’s chest the way you deserve: rough and hard. Simon’s been teasing you too long; you need to be ravaged, orgasm after orgasm pulled from you, faster than you can think.

“Let me have a go, yea?” he says boldly, looking at Simon with desperation. “That’s what this is, right? Ye want me to fuck ‘er nice? I’ll do it. I’ll do it, sir – I’ll take good care of her-“

“No you won’t.” Simon interjects before the dog can get too riled up. His fingers are now strumming up and through your folds, and you’re panting and staring at Johnny with needy desire. “’S why you can’t keep anyone. You’re too eager.”

The truth shoots through Soap’s chest like an arrow, and he meets Simon’s gaze. He’s obviously rock-hard in his trousers, he won’t even attempt to hide it. Simon’s got a cocky, knowing smirk on his face, and you… poor you is just wishing Simon would spit out what he wants to say, so the three of you could get on with the show.

“Gonna teach you a few secrets, sergeant.” Simon says, and Soap isn’t sure what to think about having his rank used in this situation. “My girl needs to cum.” He pulls his fingers away from you – you whine in frustration, but are quickly silenced when two, thick digits are stuffed into your mouth. You obediently clean off your own slick with your tongue, looking back down at Johnny with a heavy, lidded stare.

“I’ll make her cum.” Soap says quickly. If this is a matter of whether or not he can make someone cum, he’ll pass that test easily.

“You’ll do it right.” Simon growls. “Need to understand the difference between getting’ your cock wet and pleasuring ‘er. ‘S my girl ‘n I won’t have you roughhousing ‘er. Got it?”

Soap’s throat bobs as he swallows. It was another task, another order from his superior. He clears his mind of any preprogrammed, lustful thoughts, sent straight to his brain from his achingly hard member – this wasn’t about him. It was about following instructions. He was a good soldier, he could do that much.

“Yes sir.”

Simon nods. He shifts hips, pulling his fingers from your lipsand grabbing your hips. You grab his forearms for support as he spreads his muscular thigs, forcing your legs farther apart as they rest on either side of his knees. Slick dribbles down from your pussy and onto Simon’s length, which is about to tear a hole through his pants.

“Then get to it. Sick of hearin’ you yap all day about not bein’ able to keep a girl. Put your mouth to good use – we’re about to fix that.”

[servicpop]

obsessive ( nsfw ) obsessive toji f. x oblivious bttm male reader

Toji hated how oblivious you were.

You could run your pretty little mouth to a cafe worker and overlook the yearning in their eyes, or you would turn a blind eye to when your co-worker at your part-time job asks so blatantly for your number, but you just disregard it as just so you could be called in when they call sick.

He doesn't say anything about it, not when you two are out getting drinks — since it was your payday — and he sees a girl approach you, batting her eyelashes blotted black with mascara and throwing meaningless compliments at you. He only glares, his hand slipped around your waist, squeezing the soft flesh there as if he was voicing his complaints through actions.

But of course you brush him off, saying something along the lines of 'she probably wants to be friends,' which undoubtedly ticks him off.

A smile, however, graces his scarred lips when he sees the girl's eyes flicker to the hand around your sides and backs off ever so slightly and he swears he would never but he most definitely flipped her off while your attention was on her.

When your drinks were finally done, the worker handed it to you, and god did Toji almost throw a straight punch when he saw your fingers brush together. Why was everyone gunning for you? When he first started going out with you, he simply assumed that no one would dare come close because of his looks, but now, people didn't even look in his direction, only yours.

"You're like a fucking angel," He grunted under his breath, placing the paper straw that would eventually disintegrate from him chewing on it inbetween his lips to take a sip. You turn your head to ask him what he said, not being able to hear it through the rumble of his voice, but he replies with a blunt, "nothing."

Throughout your whole 'date,' Toji was just getting increasingly pissed off about the whole ordeal. Guys and girls were approaching you, trying to start up a conversation, and as the sweet little oblivious boy you were, you'd engage, which always ended in Toji having to scare them away with a glare and a hand wrapped around you.

The ride home was fairly quiet; Toji wasn't a man of many words but he couldn't shake off the jealousy that he desperately wanted to bury. His fingers brushed against his scarred lips, a habit he's adopted over the years, and his leg bounced repetitively before the words just spilt out from his mouth like gates opening. "Does it not bother you?" he speaks in a rather hushed tone, almost like he's trying to restrain the jealousy in his voice.

"Bother me how?" You question, getting out from your seat once you've reached your home. Toji is left trailing after you like a stray dog while the key chains on your keys clink together as you unlock your front door.

"When people are always coming up to you," Toji grumbles, extending an arm above your head to hold the door open for you. "They're interested in you, can't you see that?" His hands find their way to rest on your waist and he pulls your back to his chest. "I'm right here and you still wanna shoot your shot with someone else?" Toji has forgotten all about keeping his obsession over you at bay, all he wants to do is knock some sense into you.

Before you can even refute his words, Toji already has his hands crawling underneath your shirt. His large, thick fingers finding your chest to pinch at your nipples, twisting them lightly. One hand leaves your chest while the other is splayed across it, holding you back as he pulls at your waistband, stretching the elastic out to look down at you.

"Already hard and I've barely touched you," He tsked, and contradictory to his words, his hand wanders down to touch you more. He pulls at your pants, slipping them down until they pool at your ankles before he runs a finger along the bulge at your boxers.

You instinctively whine and grasp his forearms in a futile attempt to stop his hands but you just end up twitching in his hold. "What? Don't want it? Thought you loved attention," Toji slips his hand lower, trailing down so he could press the pad of his fingers to your hole through the fabric. There's barely any friction or penetration to get you going so your hips jerk back, pushing against Toji which elicts a low groan from the man.

"Yeah, yeah you do, you fucking love it," His laugh comes out harsh and he's folding himself ontop of you, getting you to bend over more. Both his thumbs link underneath your waistband and pulls it down with a small whistle. Toji's arm then constricts around your waist where your body bent, holding you up so you didn't fall or escape. For a second he holds you still and all you can hear is the clink of his belt coming off and the small pops of his buttons.

"Stay still for me yeah?" He growls in your ear, tugging at his own clothing to get them off. He snakes his hand to your front, curving underneath to slip a finger inside. His arm is brushing so lightly against your now erect cock, but he refuses to touch it.

You could feel every knuckle pushing into you, squeezing against his fingers as you panted. His other hand finally makes it to your dick, using his fingertips to pull your cock against your stomach, tracing his nails along the underside. This ripped out a moan from your throat, your arms thrashing around from the feeling but Toji's arms are so tangle with yours its hard to move.

"Oh? So that's where you're sensitive, huh?" He's blatantly mocking you, taking his anger out on you. You whine again when Toji starts to spread the fingers nestled inside your walls, scissoring you to stretch you out. "Open up for me baby, I know you ain't shy," he keeps his fingers apart, taking his own dick and lining it up to your gaping hole.

He pushed in, and once you fit his tip through, he pulls his fingers back out, plugging you with his thick dick.

Toji hums contently, grabbing both your arms and pulling them back to his sides. You're already arching and he's got a great view of your back. "I feel like you're gonna split in half, God," its a shaky laugh because of how much you're squeezing him, wringing him out of whatever he has to offer. He pulls his hips away from you before he slams back in, the hands on your wrists pulling you against him with each thrust.

You can't do anything with your hands pulled behind your back, Toji's just using your body, handling you like you were a puppet and your arms were the strings.

You can hear Toji groan in frustration but before you could question it, Toji moves his hands, gripping your thigh and pulling it up. His other hand holds your side, as he pistons his hips into you in this new position. "That's deeper, yeah?" He groans into your ear, and you wobble from being forced to stand on one leg but Toji just tightens his grip around your waist.

Your whole body shudders when Toji finally reaches your prostate, hitting right up against it. A grin slowly emerges onto Toji's face when he sees your eyes go blank, and he knows he's found your sweet spot. "There we go, shit I was getting mad 'cause you weren't reacting that much." Toji's fingers dig deeper into the plush flesh of your thigh, and he laughs breathlessly at the obscene sound of his balls hitting against your skin.

"You take it like a champ y'know," he whispers through his teeth, "I'm so mean to you but you don't complain, huh?"

You're too far gone to even hear his words, your warm, wet walls clenching around him as you let out a small cry before coming as hard as you could, the sticky liquid falling straight onto your wooden floors. Toji's condescending laugh rings through your ears as the hand on your waist moves to your tummy, pressing down so he could feel himself rearrange your guts.

And apparently, that gets him off. Alot.

With one more thrust, Toji groans loudly, emptying for all he's worth into you. He pulls out almost immediately so he could see the white globs drip down your inner thighs. He lets go of your thigh that he was previously holding in the air and squishes them together, slotting his cock back between your sticky thighs to ride out his high.

He's peppering light kisses and small bites on your shoulder before speaking in a husky voice, "You gonna let people hit you up?" He asks, and you can barely reply from the physical exhaustion, "...No."

[persevereforahappyending]

No Man's Land |2|

Pairing: Sam Carpenter x Reader

Summary: Sam can’t help but be drawn to the cute stranger from her gym, even if everything about them makes them the perfect suspect, just when Ghostface has returned.

Warnings: Talks of Murder and Killing

Word Count: 3k+

Main Masterlist | Series Masterlist

Part 1 | Part 2

Sam had her head thrown back, trying to calm her nerves as she and Tara waited for Detective Bailey to arrive. When Quinn called her father, he had said he wanted to speak with Sam. He wouldn’t confirm or deny whether the killings on the news were the work of Ghostface, but he wanted her to come down to the station. Tara had refused to let her go alone and Bailey even agreed that he’d like to see Tara as well. They arrived at the police station first thing in the morning and were immediately escorted to an interrogation room, without anyone telling them anything.

Sam finally looked up when she heard the door open, seeing Bailey enter. “Sorry about the wait,” Bailey said, giving them an awkward chuckle.

“What’s this about?” Tara asked, tapping her fingers on the table.

“The killings,” Sam cut in. “Was it Ghostface?”

“We found this,” Bailey said, tossing an evidence bag containing a bloody card onto the table, ignoring both the girls’ questions. “At the crime scene,” Bailey sat in the chair opposite of them. “In which two of your,” he pointed at Tara. “Classmates were murdered. Care to explain?” he shrugged.

Tara leaned forward, her eyes widening at what was in the baggy before she looked back at Sam. Sam furrowed her brow as she took a look as well, her face instantly going white at seeing her ID, covered in blood, and in the evidence bag. “I lost my ID months ago,” Sam mumbled, shaking her head. “I had to get a new one.”

“Why didn’t you report your ID as stolen?”

“I didn’t know it was stolen,” Sam glared at Bailey.

Sam didn’t know detective Bailey too well. She knew he was a homicide detective and when Quinn decided to go to college at Blackmore, he transferred to New York so he could keep an eye on her. Quinn complained about him occasionally, usually saying how overprotective he was, though he did allow Quinn to live on her own with Sam and Tara, even though it would be much cheaper for her to live with him. Bailey always seemed like the typical dad, but Sam wasn’t sure, she saw danger around every corner but the majority of the time it was just her being paranoid.

“Where were you last night?” Bailey asked, getting back to his questioning.

“You can’t seriously think she’s a suspect,” Tara said. “That’s ridiculous.”

“I’m just trying to figure out what happened,” Bailey held his hands up in defense. “Do you have an alibi?” He looked at Sam.

Sam sighed and ran a hand through her hair. “I was at work,” Sam answered. “Then when I came home Chad and I went to the gym, then back to the apartment.”

“And someone can verify this?”

“Lots of people probably,” Sam shrugged. “Your daughter being one of them, she was at the apartment last night.”

“It’s true,” Tara said, crossing her arms. “We were all with someone the entire day. Anything else?”

“Your classmates,” Bailey said, pointing at Tara. “Had a Ghostface shrine, it seems they killed their professor a Ms. Crane.” Tara sucked in a breath, Sam didn’t know her personally, but she had heard Tara and Mindy mention her a few times. “Earlier this evening. Know anything about that?”

“Why would we? I barely talked to them.”

“Are you familiar with a,” Bailey flipped open a file, squinting his eyes at something in the file, “Richie Kirsch?”

Sam couldn’t help the way she shifted in her seat, trying not to react. “He’s my ex,” she answered with a tight-lipped smile. “And he’s dead.”

“Yeah, he and my best friend tried to kill us last year,” Tara snapped. “What’s this got to do with anything?”

“Well, it seems these boys,” Bailey said, tapping his fingers on the photos of the two guys killed. “Intended to finish his movie.” Sam and Tara’s faces both fell at those words. “It seems they were working on a plan to kill you two.”

“We don’t know anything about that,” Sam said.

“Right, right,” Bailey mumbled to himself. “So, it’s just a coincidence these two boys end up dead?”

“There are no coincidences when Ghostface is involved.”

“Look,” Tara cut in, seeming frustrated and tired. “Are we under arrest or can we go?”

Bailey looked between the two sisters then down at the photos and evidence bag. Sam held her breath as she waited for his response. She wasn’t sure what was going through his mind, he still never confirmed if Ghostface was back, and she didn’t know if Bailey suspected her or thought she and Tara were in danger.

“You’re free to go,” Bailey said. “Just don’t leave town,” he gave Sam a look, like he knew she wanted to run.

Tara didn’t hesitate to get up, nearly knocking over her chair in the process. Sam gave Bailey one last glance before following after Tara. They flagged down a cab and Tara gave the guy directions to Blackmore. When Sam furrowed her brow Tara showed her Mindy’s text saying to meet at the school so they could go over suspects before class.

Before she knew it Sam had her head thrown back again, this time as she sat on a bench outside Blackmore College. Everyone was already there when Sam and Tara arrived and since then Mindy had been standing in front of everyone pacing back and forth. Sam just wanted her to get to the point already, she wanted to try and get some sleep before she had to go to work. She knew she wouldn’t get any sleep though; she wasn’t able to sleep last night and there was no way she’d be able to before her shift, not with Ghostface out there.

“Suspects!” Mindy said, finally seeming to get to the point. “With Ghostface, most likely, back we should go over potential people who might want to kill us! Because Bailey clearly won’t be of any help.”

Sam couldn’t help but glance at Quinn. The girl frowned at Mindy’s words but didn’t move to argue with her. Mindy also didn’t bother sparing Quinn a glance, let alone an apology. Sam couldn’t help but frown at Quinn’s reaction, or her lack of reaction. Detective Bailey was Quinn’s father, and she wasn’t saying anything to stick up for him or defend him. Sam wasn’t sure if that alone was suspicious or if Quinn just knew by now there was no point in arguing with Mindy.

“First!” Mindy continued, holding up a finger. “Ethan! The shy, dorky guy who no one suspects because he’s just so shy and dorky.”

“I’m a suspect because I’m randomly Chad’s roommate?” Ethan questioned, gesturing at Chad awkwardly.

“Roommate lotteries can be fixed,” Mindy rolled her eyes as if it was the easiest thing in the world to do. “And second, Quinn!” Mindy turned, smiling at Quinn. “Tara and Sam’s slutty roommate, a horror movie classic.”

“Sex positive,” Quinn corrected. Though she didn’t seem offended by Mindy’s accusation like Ethan had.

“How did you come to live with Sam and Tara?”

“I answered their ad online.”

“No need to say more, you’ve implicated yourself enough!”

“It was an anonymous ad,” Tara said. “And we vetted her.” Sam nodded, she had done incredibly thorough questioning to both Quinn and Bailey when they were interviewing potential roommates. “Plus, her dads a cop.”

“And that makes it more likely!” Mindy gestured wildly. “Cop dad is a great cover! Besides, what are the odds, your dad, would get this case?” Mindy crossed her arms, raising an eyebrow at Quinn.

“How the hell would I know?” Quinn crossed her arms, finally seeming to get annoyed by Mindy.

“And lastly, Anika,” she smiled at her girlfriend. “You aren’t clear either.”

Anika’s face fell. “Are you kidding me?” she asked.

“Sorry babe,” Mindy shrugged. Anika just scoffed, crossing her arms and turning her head away as she refused to look at Mindy.

“I think that’s all the suspects,” Mindy said, giving herself a little nod of approval.

“And Y/N,” Sam added. Everyone turned to her with raised eyebrows. “What?” Sam shoved her hands in her pockets. “I just think they should be on the list.”

“I thought you said you haven’t ever spoken to them?” Mindy narrowed her eyes.

“I haven’t.”

“Then why would they be a suspect?” Tara questioned, crossing her arms.

“Because we have the same schedule!” Sam tried to reason. “No matter when I go, no matter what day, or what time, they’re there.”

“Suspicious,” Mindy admitted. “Anything else?”

“They have fighting experience. Not sure how much but I’ve seen them train, they definitely know what they’re doing.”

Sam continued to ramble on about you. She told them once again about how similar your schedules seemed, even when it was well after midnight and there was no one else there you’d show up. She talked all about the kind of people you did talk to and how you were otherwise reserved. Then she got into your workout and mentioned how much you lift and how much you focus on either sparring with someone or hitting the punching bag. When Sam was finished revealing all her observations about you, she looked around at the others. Everyone was looking back at her with raised eyebrows, she was going to assume they were just shocked by her keen observation skills.

“They are pretty badass,” Chad added, holding a finger up. “I hate to admit it because they seem so cool,” he let out a little chuckle. “But the way they fought that dude in the ring,” he let out an impressed whistle. “I’d hate to see what they’d do to an enemy.”

Everyone’s face slowly morphed into one of worry. Ethan and Quinn gave each other a look of concern and Tara looked at Sam as if Sam would have a solution to their problem. Sam could only offer her sister a comforting smile, she didn’t know who this new Ghostface was, but she wouldn’t let him hurt Tara.

“Okay, we’ll add them to the list,” Mindy agreed.

Sam nodded. A part of her felt a little guilty for suspecting you of such heinous things when you’ve only ever been nice, but she couldn’t take the risk. She dated Richie for months and he betrayed and used her, she hadn’t even spoken a single word to you. Sam didn’t have a real reason to suspect you, besides the fact that you went to the same gym, which a lot of people went to, but none of them had even close to the same random schedule she did, and she had never seen any of them fight like you could. She hoped you were just the cute stranger from her gym though, and not some psychopath. But she knew her life, there was no way her first crush since Richie was just a normal person that went to her gym, and all the other stuff, the stuff that drew her to you, was just coincidence, she wasn’t that lucky.

After being satisfied with their suspect list everyone went their separate ways with most of them going to class, while Sam went to work. Sam managed to get home and change but didn’t have time for a nap before having to head to her job. She managed to make it to the diner she worked at, just before she had to clock in.

Sam tried to focus on work and not let her mind wander to Ghostface and what was happening. She ignored the way people kept glancing at her, she ignored the articles she saw on their phones when she came to fill their coffee cups, she ignored the way customers bumped into her, spilling their milkshakes, ketchup, and syrup all over her. She ignored it all, she put on her fake smile and apologized to the next person who bumped into her.

Sam glanced at her phone every time she had a spare moment, when she knew, she wouldn’t get caught by her boss. She ordered everyone to text her throughout the day, so she’d know they were okay. She ordered her sister though to text her every fifteen minutes, Tara had rolled her eyes, but she had been doing it, if Sam didn’t hear from Tara within the time frame she would try calling first and then head off to wherever Tara was supposed to be.

When Sam’s shift finally finished, she rushed home, ignoring the way everyone was lounging in the living room once again as she ran to her bedroom. She didn’t have long before she needed to be at her therapy appointment, and she needed to shower and change first. She moved as quick as she could, showering long enough to get rid of the diner smell but not long enough to actually enjoy having the water rain down on her.

“I have therapy tonight,” Sam said as she rushed around the living room, ignoring her still damp hair. “I’ll be back later.” Tara nodded. “Be careful, stay inside, and don’t unlock the door for anyone.” Sam gave all of them a pointed look.

“We know,” Tara sighed. “You be careful too,” she whispered.

Sam smiled at her sister, giving everyone a quick wave goodbye before making her way out the door. She made sure to lock all the locks and double check herself before walking down the stairs. Her neighbor Danny offered her a kind smile, holding the door open for her as he was coming, and she was going. Sam did a quick check of her surroundings before shoving her hands in her pocket and began making her way to her therapy appointment.

Before Sam knew it, she was sitting in her therapist’s office, pulling at her sweater as she refused to look her therapist in the eye. She hadn’t been seeing the woman very long, she was seeing a guy for a while but when he learned her dad was Billy Loomis, he basically stopped being helpful. When Sam found Doctor Williams, Sam had started the first session by telling her all about her father, if this therapist wasn’t going to be helpful either Sam figured she might as well figure it out right away instead of wasting all her time and money.

“We’ve been sitting in silence for twenty minutes,” Doctor Williams said, not looking up from her notepad as she continued to write something down. Sam wasn’t sure what the doctor could be writing considering she had yet to speak. “Your session is only an hour long, if you want to talk,” she glanced at her watch. “You might want to think about starting soon.”

Sam frowned and flicked a glare at Williams. “I met someone,” Sam said, breaking the ice.

“That’s good,” Williams smiled, setting down her notepad and pen. “How has that been?”

“Well, I haven’t exactly talked to them yet.”

“How-How does that work?” Williams furrowed her brow.

“We go to the same gym,” Sam nodded along with her words. She was sure this was probably making her sound even crazier than she already seemed. “We’ve shared looks and a few nods,” Sam smiled to herself

She didn’t miss the small smile still on Williams’s face. “And what’s stopping you from talking to them?”

Sam’s eyes drifted down to the carpet, she pursed her lips, nodding to herself. “I think someone is trying to kill me and my sister again.” She looked up to see William’s staring at her with wide eyes. “And they’re on the suspect list,” Sam gave a little shrug.

Williams opened and closed her mouth a few times, clearly trying to process her words. “You think the person you like is trying to kill you?” Williams said slowly.

“Well, not just them, everyone’s a suspect.” Williams nodded unsurely. “I’m not being paranoid,” Sam tried to assure. “At least I don’t think I am,” she shook her head. “Tara always says I’m too paranoid but this time there’s a legitimate reason.”

Sam’s words slowly died down as Doctor Williams raised her hand. “Let’s start from the beginning,” Williams said softly.

Sam swallowed, ringing her hands as she tried to calm her nerves. “There was a murder last night. Two boys in Tara’s class killed their professor.” Williams furrowed her brow. “Then someone murdered them in their apartment.” Williams opened her mouth, but Sam wasn’t done yet. “There’s no proof, but the killings might have been committed by Ghostface.”

“And what makes you think this is Ghostface? Are you sure he’s not just on your mind, it’s around that time of year, no?”

Sam clenched her hands together. “The two students, they were fanatics,” she rolled her eyes. “Fans of Richie apparently. They were planning on killing me and my sister, but someone killed them first.”

“And you think that someone is Ghostface?”

Sam nodded. “Ghostface would never let two kids,” she scoffed. “Take out me and my sister. Not that they could,” she ran a hand through her hair.

Before Doctor Williams could say anything else the timer went off, signaling the end of their session. “See, you next week, I guess.” Sam gave a shy smile as she got up from the couch.

“Wait, I don’t want you to do anything rash,” Williams rushed, following behind her but Sam was already out the door.

Sam checked her surroundings once again as she exited the building. She began her walk back to the apartment. When she got back to the apartment, she saw everyone still in the living room. “We got pizza,” Tara said, nodding to the box on the table. Sam snapped a glare at her sister as she dropped her keys into the bowl by the door. “Anika went to pick it up,” Tara held up her hands, but Sam didn’t miss the eyeroll.

Sam sighed, shaking her head at her sister as she made her way to her room. She got ready for bed, but her mind wouldn’t stop. She kept thinking about the killings, about Ghostface potentially being back, and who they could trust.

Taglist: @thatshyboy1998

[witchesverse]

house wife

pairing: dark!50swanda x fem!reader

summary: after wanda meets you in her hex, she decides that she wants to keep you as her own.

content: noncon, heavy manipulation, degradation, mention of murder, crying, cheating (kinda??), nipple touching, fingering, clit rubbing, spitting, face slapping, mention of training.

a/n: half way writing this i realised wanda didn't have her children in the 50s so just pretend she did so i don't need to rewrite it :(

masterlist

The moment she met you, she was hooked. Everything about you drew her in. It made her heart flutter at how you genuinely cared for others and that beautiful, shy smile that would spread across your face at one of her compliments.

And it made her stomach flip at how utterly perfect your body was.

When she created the hex, it was out of grief and the yearning for a family with her dead husband, Vision. But once she met you, that idea was disregarded, and then her children and Vision disappeared.

She didn't care for her family's disappearance. She was too focused on the fact that she could finally have you.

The real you.

"Oh, hiya, Wanda!" Your cheerful voice brought a smile to her face.

You stood at your front door, holding a cookie tray with an apron wrapped around your waist. Wanda thought you looked adorable.

"Oh no, I hope I'm not intruding on your baking time, sweetheart." Wanda's voice was laced with faux concern.

You immediately shook your head, seemingly baffled by the question Wanda had asked. "Of course not! Your presence would never intrude on my time. In fact, why don't you come and sit whilst I finish baking?"

"Are you sure? I don't-"

"I insist."

Wanda bit her tongue, holding herself back from snapping at you and spanking your arse over her thigh. How dare you cut her off.

You stepped back, letting Wanda enter your house.

Your house was big for one person; it makes Wanda think someone else lived here before the hex.

"Make yourself at home!" You gestured to the living room, "I'll just pop these in the oven."

Instead of sitting on the couch, Wanda followed you to the kitchen and watched you. She held back a moan at how perfect your arse looked as you bent down to place the cookies in the oven.

She wanted to be slow and give you time to warm up to her, but you looked too perfect to resist, especially with how your dress revealed your panties to her.

"Come here," Wanda spoke with such authority that you immediately obeyed.

She softly grabbed you by the chin, forcing you to look at her. She smiled at how easily you complied.

Such a dumb, pretty thing.

She dragged her thumb over your lips and your mouth dropped slightly. Her chuckle brought you back into 'reality'.

"Um," You cleared your throat and stepped away from her. Wanda hid the anger in her face.

She stepped forward, sandwiching you between herself and the kitchen counter. She placed one hand on the counter and the other on your temple.

She lifted the spell.

Your eyes widened and your sweet, soft look was replaced by pure fear. You tried to run, but Wanda prepared for that and her magic kept you in place.

"Y-You did this," You whimpered "Please, let me go. I'll do anything, please."

Wanda smiled innocently, "Anything?"

"My wife-" You gasped, "Is she here? God, I haven't seen her in weeks. Please let her go if she's here. I promise-"

Wanda covered your mouth with her hand. She didn't want to hear about your wife. She wished she trapped your stupid wife in her hex so she could kill her.

"If you comply, I promise I won't hurt her." It was a simple lie, but you believed it.

She used her thumb to wipe your tears away. She couldn't have you crying already.

"Strip for me."

She watched with an amused grin as your brain struggled to process her request, but when it did, heat rose to your cheeks. With shaky hands, you removed your clothing until you were bare and on complete display for Wanda.

Wanda's fingers brushed against your erect nipples and her other hand wrapped around your throat, pushing you onto the counter. You whimpered as your back hit the cold counter.

"So perfect," Wanda muttered, more to herself than you.

Her fingers dragged down your stomach, goosebumps rising, until she stopped at your cunt. She lightly circled your clit and you whimpered in response.

Then, her fingers went lower. She tsked, shaking her head and brought her fingers up. They were drenched.

“I’m not…” You swallowed, unable to finish your sentence.

“You’re not what? Enjoying this?” Wanda rolled her eyes “Don’t give me that bullshit because you’re drenched.”

You looked away, tears filling your eyes. You were embarrassed.

Wanda sighed. She had a lot of behavioural corrections to do.

She grabbed your chin, turning you to face her. You watched with teary eyes as Wanda spat on your cunt, spreading her spit with her fingers.

One of her fingers slowly entered, curling upwards and pulling out. She kept a steady pace, figuring out what made you scream. It was understimulating.

"More,"

Your demand was whispered and weak, but Wanda heard it.

"Say it with manners."

"Please, can I have more?"

You nearly cried. The guilt of begging another woman to fuck you ate you up, yet you couldn't stop yourself.

Wanda rewarded you with another finger, stretching you out. Your hips desperately rutted into her palm, chasing the pleasure. It was brain-numbing how good her fingers felt.

She slipped a third finger inside. It was embarrassing how drenched you were. You could feel your slick dripping down your ass and were positive it was dripping down Wanda's arm.

Your orgasm hit you suddenly. Your back was arched and your toes curled. Your eyes fluttered closed and your mouth dropped open, letting out the sluttiest moan.

Wanda captured your lips with hers, muffling your moans.

"Can't have people knowing what a whore you are." She mumbled.

You shuddered, wanting to say something snarky in reply but words fell dumb on your tongue.

"My wife-"

Wanda pulled back, anger evident on her face and her palm met your cheek. It wasn't a hard slap, but it made your heart drop and tears fill your eyes.

"So much training is needed."

Her fingers touched your temples and you were put under her spell again. She stepped back and sucked her fingers clean, watching your reaction intently.

You cleared your throat and looked around, confusion written on your face. You ran your hands over your naked body and jumped when you noticed Wanda standing there.

"My goodness!" You picked your clothes off the floor, shielding yourself from Wanda. "Sorry, Wanda. I-I don't remember getting naked but give me three seconds to tidy myself up and I'll meet you in the living room!"

Wanda grinned as she watched you walk away.

Brainless little plaything.

[accirax]

Danganronpa: Despair Time Chapter 2 Episode 14 Dissection

I can't think of how to introduce this dissection other than just saying "god damn??". This chapter-- especially its second part-- has been a wild ride, and one that it appears we're nearing the end of. However, we still have one important question left to answer, which I'm sure I'll talk about here. So, let's chat.

SPOILERS for Danganronpa: Despair Time Chapter 2 Episode 14.

Also, I will be discussing Ace and Eden as equally likely blackened candidates in this post. If it will upset you to hear about the prospects of either or both of them being the killer, you might want to sit this one out.

Given what happens later in the episode, it's very interesting that the episode began with (more or less) Ace "admitting" that he has no idea how the murder mechanism worked. A truthful method of disqualification, or a masterful play by Ace to ask Teruko to ask him about the murder method only to pretend that he has no idea what it was? Time will have to tell on that one, because I honestly have no leads.

Similarly, is this Eden being genuinely shaken up and not remembering what transpired in the Gym, or trying to play the helpless innocent card to get out of having to help Teruko explain the murder method that she stole? Spoilers for my thoughts later in this dissection, I guess: they're so evenly matched that it's crazy.

I've always thought that Hu is the prettiest DRDT character, and this episode did nothing but prove me right. Hot damn, ma'am.

The insistence that this questioning is "traumatizing [Nico]" makes me think that Hu could be projecting her own experiences on to them. Perhaps she was once an innocent in a situation for which she kept taking the blame? That would be interesting as another connection between Hu and Nico, of both of them having taken the blame for someone else's follies.

This was a hilarious comeback; never change, Ace. Or, maybe you do need to change slightly, to become a less cowardly and impulsive person. Or maybe I should at least be rooting for you to have the chance to change in the sense that you live long enough to have that work out for you.

Yet another instance of J being the one to say that murder is bad. I wonder if this has to do with her character/backstory in some particular way (although given what we know about her past I have no idea what that would be), or if DRDTdev just needed a judgmental and confrontational person who would snap back at anyone to take over these kinds of lines.

(That's not me dunking on J's character btw she's valid for this)

This was a really clever way for Charles to phrase this to make Hu listen and settle down. I appreciate the out-of-the-box yet logical thinking. (Also I missed hearing Charles' voice :,D)

Woah, I was not expecting to get a Closing Argument comic for the Gym murder, but I am obviously delighted that we have one! Also, OH MY GOD, THE CEILING GRATE. How did none of us even think to consider that as part of the murder mechanism?

However, there are still some aspects of the state of the Gym that haven't yet been accounted for with this version of the murder timeline. I don't really think it's anything that would stop Nico from being Ace's would-be killer at this point, but I'll list them out here in case they are or in case they turn out to be relevant to Arei's murder. I'll also be trying to debunk them, though.

Moved Benches: Some of the benches near the pullup bar were knocked over. These probably fell either in some sort of struggle while knocking out Ace, or when Ace's body fell from the fan.

Moved Weight Rack: The weight rack was moved closer to the bench press and flipped on its back. I guess this really was also knocked over in the same fashion, no matter how unrealistically difficult it should have been to move due to its weight? Or it really was "workout preferences"???

Nico's Missing Cowl: When Teruko and Eden found Nico at the scene of the crime, they weren't wearing their typical dark cape thing. I have no clue why. You could say that Nico was trying to look less instantly recognizable, but it's not as if anyone (other than maybe Teruko) who saw a dark-haired 5'5" individual in a blue shirt instead of a gray cowl would think it was anyone other than Nico. There's also ye olde theory that they might have used it to soak up blood somewhere, but 1) Ace seems to have lost less blood than it may have seemed, and 2) the cowl was still not seen anywhere in the crime scene. I think I remember speculating that after Nico hypothetically used it to soak up blood (or, on second thought, maybe used it to gag Ace with the turpentine), they then stuck it in the fridge to hide it for the time being, at which point MonoTV discarded it and Nico got a new cape from their room. Maybe if it was used to apply the turpentine, Nico also could've put it away to prevent themselves from being affected by the fumes? I guess that's what I'm going with.

Lack of Tape on Pullup Bar: So, this one is obviously relevant to the murder already because Rose not being able to do a pullup is part of what tips off Teruko to the fact that something is off with the tape. However, I have no idea why the tape actually got removed from the bar. I still maintain that I don't think anyone could have stolen the tape off of that bar and repurposed it elsewhere-- most online sources seem to agree that kinesiology tape isn't reusable, and the fact that it was already wrapped around the bar in such a tight spiral would make it difficult to conform to any new specific shapes. My best guess is that Nico might have tried to use the bar instead of the light grate at first, determined that the tape was preventing the wire from sliding properly, and then removed the tape before determining the bar still didn't work. Or, Nico could have tried using the bar before settling on the broom, and thinking that it wouldn't work with tape on it... for some reason? Kinda scratching my head here.

I wonder how long ago it was. It's been four days since the Chapter 2 motive was revealed, although Ace was attacked only two days after the motive. Furthermore, Ace had started bullying Nico to some level already by the end of Chapter 1. I'm sure that Nico must have known what their secret was and probably didn't want it to be shared. My guess would be that they probably started cooking on murder pretty shortly after the new motive was released. That would also work with Charles-via-Whit letting everyone know what the custom weapons were in the first Class Trial.

This was the perfect response for Nico's character. They don't understand why an untruthful "sorry" would actually serve as a courtesy for most people, so they try to say what they feel and get ostracized for it.

Gotta say though, Ace, that was a pretty aggressive reaction from someone who said he "didn't need other people to tell him lies just to keep him happy" ;) (/j)

Damn, way to throw Levi under the bus. I can see why, for someone like Nico, they would want to assert themselves as not the most abnormal person here, though. I just want them to be neurodivergent buddies :(

If that's the case, then I'd have to imagine that we won't be seeing Nico as a killer again down the line. However, they could also just mean "getting caught"/"going in without a solid gameplan," so it's still possible we will. There's also the possibility of them doing something more like a sacrifice kill, although it would take a lot of character work to make something like that feel within Nico's nature.

Sorry to keep screenshotting every little thing Nico says but they keep saying really interesting things. The fact that Nico specifically mentions their father as opposed to "parents" or "family" makes me think that we'll hear more about their father specifically sometime in the future. Or, who knows, maybe their other parent left or died.

Nico: I don't expect you to forgive me. Very few people ever do. So I don't see the point in acting sorry.

This was very interesting as an addendum to the above screenshot. What exactly did Nico "ask for" forgiveness for in the past? Was it just more social blunders, as they described in ch2-e2, or did they get into more trouble closer to this level than we realized? It could also be an indication that Nico has spent time with people who believe that being nonbinary is a crime that Nico needs to feel sorry for. Fascinating stuff, indeed.

Points for Ace being the killer. We know that he went into this trial looking to suspect Nico ("[...] I'm pretty sure I know who the murderer is. It's not David, it's Nico"), so if Ace is the killer, it would make sense if he'd want to make the crime scene resemble Nico's to make his bait more credible.

Hey, it's the aforementioned T A P E T I M E, motherfuckers :D (still /j) Personally, it's quite gratifying to hear that it wasn't just a visual malfunction or a minor detail blown way out of proportion.

You're, uh... getting to this point much faster than I expected, queen. I don't think she's now going to go down the exact same distrustful rabbit hole that she was in before, but there's definitely still potential for her hopes to be crushed by the end of this chapter. Or, maybe she will accept some people as genuine friends, and instead in the future have to confront how she feels when she loses a genuine friend, or not blaming herself for the effects of her luck, or something along those lines. I like that Teruko isn't a static edgy protagonist, though. Like, don't get me wrong, I've always known and appreciated that she has depth, but it's refreshing that she isn't someone who's so stubborn about her own way of thinking that she refuses to admit when she's in the wrong. Teruko really wants friends, guys.

TERUROSE REAL??????

(Also Rose's speech was excellent as well I just didn't have anything in particular to say about it other than "wow" at the moment)

Yahoo, lockdown logic strikes again! Also, a quick

Is Teruko Correct In This Assumption?

Personally, I fully think yes, only Ace or Eden could be the culprit at this point. MonoTV confirmed that it tried to restore the Gym to the best of its ability but couldn't return the tape, which means both that there was no tape in the Gym to be taken and that there was never any spare tape in the Storage Room that MonoTV could have used to replace the roll. I guess you could say that there was an extra roll of tape in the Storage Room that someone else took before the murder took place, but that level of coincidence seems implausible at this point in the Trial.

No, for anyone other than Eden or Ace to have acquired the tape, they must have either stolen it from one of those two or asked for it from one of those two. Asking them seems very unlikely-- for starters, if it was Ace who took the tape, I don't think he'd be giving free hand-outs to anyone. And, if Eden isn't the killer herself, that means all of her fright regarding stumbling upon Ace's body was genuine. I don't think she's naive enough to then hand over what was used in Ace's murder to anyone asking... or at least not without bringing it up now. Beyond that, anyone who would ask either of them for the tape would have to know that the tape was used in the murder attempt, knowledge of which was very limited. This episode went to lengths to establish that Nico was the sole culprit behind the attack on Ace, and while it's still possible it could all be an elaborate lie, the explanation Nico gave felt very in character and important for their characterization moving forwards. So, while Nico would obviously know it was used, if Nico asked either of them for the tape, surely neither Eden nor Ace would trust them. Otherwise, I think Rose is the only one who could have found out it was gone, but even so, given that neither Eden nor Ace have tried to argue that Rose asked them for the tape, I don't think that happened.

You could also say the same of neither Eden nor Ace claiming to have had the tape stolen from them-- but I could see either of them feeling like claiming to have taken the tape at all right now would be a death sentence, so I understand why they wouldn't say it. Still, I don't know if the narrative is there to support the tape having been stolen from them. On the day after the Gym murder (Day 7), Eden isn't seen in the daily life at all. If someone stole the tape from Eden on that day, I would think that DRDTdev would at least want to show us who Eden was spending time with on that day (given that he put in the effort to make the tape sprite disappear from the Gym at the time it did), so that we would have any idea who might have done so. Ace is seen once in the Day 7 daily life, arguing with Hu, Nico, Levi, Veronika, and Arei. However, having just been attacked, I imagine he'd be hyper-aware of anyone getting close to him, and therefore would be more likely to notice if someone was rifling around in his pockets (if he has pockets?).

Really, I think the only possible candidates for who could have stolen tape from Ace or Eden would be Levi (mostly just for Ace) and Arei (from either of them). Levi might have had an opportunity to take the tape from Ace on the night he was attacked, the night of Day 6. Eden said last episode that Levi "kept trying to help him" after Ace was attacked, which could imply that Levi was the one to put bandages around Ace's neck. Furthermore, he does have a criminal past, which could make him better at stealing. Similarly, Arei is confirmed to be a good pickpocket, stealing Min's pen without Min noticing at all. I think she's the only one with the proper buildup to have taken the tape from Ace at that breakfast, and would be the most likely to have spent time with Eden when Eden was off-screen. (Although, it would have to have been before lunch, because Eden says the last time she saw Arei was at lunch.)

However, I don't think many people think that Levi is the killer anymore, and if Arei stole the tape from Eden or Ace only for the killer to then steal the tape from Arei, I would start to wonder why DRDTdev even made the tape such a scarce resource in the first place. Remember that, if the killer was purposefully trying to recreate Nico's idea, they likely knew in advance that they would need the tape to pull off their plan. It was used in enough places that seizing the opportunity to take it off of Arei seems unlikely, as it was too fundamental to the plan's inception. Besides, for the killer to replicate Nico's plan in the first place, the killer likely needs to be Nico, Eden, Ace, or Teruko, who are the ones who could have most easily taken the tape on their own.

I've already seen people accuse this Trial of being bloated, and while I strongly disagree (I only think cases are bloated when they're stalling for time and have nothing of interest to discuss, and we've still had PLENTY of interesting stuff to discuss), if we spent a whole 'nother who-knows-how-many episodes reversing all of the progress we just made to say that either Nico wasn't actually the one to kill Ace or that someone who didn't see the crime scene killed Arei, that bloating problem would only seem worse to those people.

I understand if you don't want to believe that Eden or Ace has to be the culprit for whatever reasons-- whether that be that they're your favorites and you don't want them to die or you really like your theory and don't want it to be false-- but I really think that this episode cemented that either Ace or Eden will be voted for as the blackened for all of the reasons above. Therefore, I shall be proceeding accordingly.

She was WILD for this. Hilarious line of reasoning.

What's Up With the Body Discovery Announcement?

The "reveal" of this line of logic was no surprise to me. As someone who's believed that Eden is the culprit for quite a long time, we've had to figure out ways to get around this thing before, and besides perhaps "not witnessing the murder," someone else seeing the body before the BDA rang is the most obvious way to cheese it.

However, in order for this to be a thing, we have to ask ourselves-- who would have actually seen the body first?

David claims to, but he has an alibi starting at 7:30 AM with Veronika and J. Both because Arei theoretically wasn't dead before then and because we've been operating off of the assumption that a meal takes about 30 minutes to eat, I don't think any of the three of them could have stumbled across Arei in the morning. Nico and Hu both have an alibi, which I'm going to consider solid enough to remove them from possibility-- one of them spotting the body would be helpful to make Eden the killer, and I think the only people who believe that Hu and Nico are lying only believe so under the condition that one of them is the killer. Whit is out, because him seeing the body beforehand doesn't actually accomplish anything, and so is Charles, because we can assume that, if he saw the body, he would be out of commission. I'm also going to strike Rose from seeing the body before breakfast, both because she's very likely to have been asleep and because if she had already seen Arei's body in the Playground, she probably wouldn't have refused to draw a diagram. That would leave only Ace, Levi, and Arturo as non-blackeneds who could have helped facilitate culprit!Eden from not being caught by the BDA.

However, we also have to consider that "before 8 AM" isn't the only time someone could have stumbled across Arei's body. They also could have seen it before Teruko, Eden, and Whit did while everyone was looking for Arei. So, what do we know about what happened during the search for Arei? Not much. Hu says that they should split up, while J says she's going to check Arei's room. Teruko says that most people are probably searching the first floor, an assumption that's supported by Teruko, Eden, and Whit not seeing anyone else while they check the second floor. You might think that would eliminate the possibility of anyone else seeing Arei's body during the search, but Teruko did say most people, not all. There's also what MonoTV said when Teruko and Veronika were investigating the Gym.

MonoTV: It's too high! If you stood in the movie screening room on floor one and started punching through the walls, you'd fall into the playground.

This not-yet-addressed piece of evidence got me thinking about the possibility of someone seeing Arei's body from above, standing in the Motive Screening Room. It still probably couldn't be Teruko, Whit, Charles, Rose, or J, but anyone else would theoretically be back on the table if that were the case. That being said, I can't find any visual differences in how the Motive Screening Room looks between the beginning of Chapter 2, when the search for Arei begins, and when Teruko goes to check the motive secrets (other than a curtain being added over the screen in the third case). So, unless there was already a heretofore unmentioned hole to peek through in the room, I wouldn't count on that being the case. The connection between the Motive Screening Room and the Playground will probably just be relevant to a different chapter.

Therefore, that leaves us once again with Ace, Levi, and Arturo. The main problem with believing that any of them could have seen the body beforehand is why they wouldn't have brought that up at this point in the Trial. Here are my best guesses as to why:

Ace: I have genuinely no clue why Ace wouldn't have brought up that he saw the body in the morning (assuming that he actually did) to defend himself at this point. It's not like it would make anyone more suspicious of you.

Levi: Levi does seem to be a bit dense regarding what is and isn't helpful behavior in a Trial, so the most likely possibility to me is that he just didn't realize that confirming he saw her was helpful. Like, "oh, I didn't realize that me confirming that I saw Arei would help us pin down Eden as the killer. I was just trying to figure out how David and I both saw Arei's body this morning and I didn't see him." "Wh-- David was obviously lying!" "He was?" "I already told you he was lying before..." "Levi... we talked about this..." Bonus points for it not being out of character for Levi to be unfazed by seeing a body, though.

Arturo: In Arturo's case, I think it would have to be that he'd still be worried about people seeing him as suspicious for saying he found Arei's body in the case of accusing Eden specifically. They already have a past history of conflict, and I could see someone brashly accusing Arturo of throwing Eden under the bus just to get revenge on her for the secret thing (even if I don't think he would actually do that). He also made an enemy out of Arei, so I don't think he would be particularly fazed by seeing her corpse either-- similarities to Felicity's cause of death notwithstanding. However, I also find it likely that he trailed after J in going to check Arei's room.

So, what's our conclusion here? Does this mean that Eden is basically fully cleared by triggering the BDA? I wouldn't count her out just yet, but the evidence isn't looking great for her. It's quite possible David only brought up this argument to A) hold out suspension of disbelief that it's not just Ace for a little while longer, B) drop this logic as foreshadowing for a future killer's plan, C) characterize the kind of logic he uses in a Class Trial, or D) bring up this argument in canon so that the people who theorized that the BDA might not clear Eden or Whit wouldn't be like, "wait, but what about...?" However, it's also possible that one of the possibilities I listed above, something I might have missed, or the "see no evil" idea (as FF put it) could keep Eden in contention. That dynamism is part of what makes Ace and Eden feel so evenly matched.

See, this is what I assumed David was getting at after Nico reminded me of his early-morning alibi. But then he just kept talking...

I'm not going to delve into what David was thinking here too much, because I already have an anonymous ask about what I think David's rationale was that this will almost certainly come up in. However, as a short version, I imagine that David is trying to get everyone angry at each other in the hopes that it'll incite another murder that he can get the class to fail? Or to cause enough discord in the group that they just fail this one. That would be why he also rags on Rose for not remembering the tape, and insults Arturo's sister-- he wants no one to trust anyone so that the murder-solving process will be as un-streamlined as possible.

The fact that he targets Teruko so specifically is probably because he (accurately) assesses her as the only real threat there. Charles and Rose can help, sure, but their mental struggles make them easy enough to eliminate if you play your cards right. Teruko's main flaw is her lack of trust, so if David wants to weaken her, it makes sense to go right for that jugular. Furthermore, by stating his plans so plainly and publicly, it might incite other people to fight back against him and say that Teruko should trust them. However, that kind of olive branch might make Teruko even less inclined to get close to them, if what Teruko said to Eden at the end of ch2-e03 can tell us anything. Didn't stop Eden from trying at the end of this last episode, though!

After taking some more time to think about what David was up to this chapter, I might change my mind on those being his goals. But, this post does serve as my initial thoughts of sorts, and that's what I initially think about this scene.

I wholeheartedly agree.

Does Ace Have Nothing To Do With Arei?

What Ace has to say is more or less true-- barring the breakfast in which Arei didn't talk at all (AKA, no conversation), Ace has literally never been in a small group event with Arei. However, although they didn't talk to each other, Ace did overhear the conversation between David and Arei, which does give him a connection to Arei. Quite relevantly, Arei did say this to David during their conversation:

Arei: You said that sharing our secrets would help fight against the motive. But when I think about it, not a single good thing has come out of that. Eden was stupidly naive, as usual, and tried to talk to Arturo, so now I have to protect her.

From this, Ace could probably surmise that Eden had Arturo's secret, she talked to him about it, and that Arei stepped in to save her from Arturo. He was one of the few people who could have known that Eden and Arei grew closer before the murder occurred: another connection Ace had to information about Arei.

However, before you use that evidence to call Ace the killer, let me remind you that he still doesn't have enough information to write the note from just eavesdropping on this conversation alone. As I outlined in this theory (same as the one I just linked above), whoever wrote the note had to specifically know that Arturo's secret was about his sister, which Arei doesn't divulge (quite possibly because she didn't even know) to David. Therefore, although Arei mentioning Arturo and Eden in this conversation is interesting, it doesn't actually make Ace any more likely to be the killer, because he still would have needed to find some way to spy on Eden's secret and/or Arturo and Eden's conversation to write that note. (Unless mentioning the sister specifically was an oversight plot hole, but I never want to use that as my reasoning.)

So, do I get what Arturo is getting at? Yeah, Ace and Arei were never particularly involved, and Eden clearly has a greater connection to the victim. However, there is more to the Ace/Arei bond than it might first appear, and it's possible that could come up in the Trial moving forward.

This distinction-- between "Arei was my friend" and "Arei could have been my friend"-- could be very telling down the line. Eden pauses mid-tear-filled rant to distinguish that Arei is not her friend, not because she's dead, but because they hadn't reached that point yet. Arei is not Eden's friend in death. What can that possibly mean other than that Eden killed Arei?

... BUT THEN HOW THE FUCK CAN EDEN GO AND SAY ALL OF THIS, BE THE KILLER, AND THEREFORE PROVE DAVID RIGHT???

AND THE "BECAUSE THAT'S WHAT FRIENDS DO" REFERENCE??? AT THIS HOUR????? I DON'T EVEN KNOW IF THAT MAKES HER SEEM MORE OR LESS SUSPICIOUS!!!!

OUGH AND THE MIN PARALLELS TOOOOOOO

MIN WAS TERUKO'S FRIEND BUT ALSO A KILLER. DOES THAT MEAN EDEN IS GOING TO BREAK THE CYCLE OR DOES IT MEAN THAT WE'RE STUCK IN A DOOMED STORY IN WHICH TERUKO IS THE PROTAGONIST? IT COULD GO EITHER WAY!!!

Jumping back in time for just a moment...

A Piece of Evidence That Lines Up to Them Only

I thought about making this its own separate post, but decided not to. If you guys want me to make this part it's own separate post so it's easier to find/comment on directly, let me know, and I'll set that up.

But before you can make your decision, I suppose I have to explain what I aim to do here. Basically, Teruko has told us that she's still torn between Eden and Ace (mood), and that, while she'll start off attacking Ace, she's looking for any pieces of evidence that could prove that only one of them could have committed the crime. Problem is, we have no indication of what that specific piece of evidence could be, and, trust me, it could be a lot of them. Thus, what I'm going to do in this "mini" theory is list out every piece of evidence that I can think of, and say whether it points to Eden being the culprit, Ace being the culprit, or it can't point to either of them. Perhaps once we're done, you'll see why I'm so conflicted on which of them it would be.

I'm going to tier these pieces of evidence in terms of least likely to be the missing piece to most likely to be the missing piece, starting with all of the aforementioned unexplained gym evidence. The knocked over benches and weight rack were not part of the replicated crime scene, and I have no idea how Ace or Eden would have wound up with any version of Nico's cowl. The missing tape on the pull-up bar has the greatest likelihood to be relevant, but as we're already suspecting both of them for having the tape, I don't think it'd be a decision maker. Any of those pieces of evidence would be likely to come up in proving that Nico wasn't the one behind Ace's murder, but this theory is operating under the assumption that Nico is the one who tried to kill Ace, and either Ace or Eden killed Arei. If you want the answers for your own theory, do your own homework. (/lh)

Ace or Eden will get a point for any evidence that I think would better be used to accuse them as being the culprit. Therefore, winning points is actually a bad thing if you want to be innocent. For convenience of "scoring," Eden will be purple because of her shirt and Ace will be pink because of his "maroon" hair... and because I needed red and orange for the likelihood ranking.

UNLIKELY FINAL PIECES OF EVIDENCE

Arei's Body Swinging: This evidence has already been used to establish that Arei was killed in the morning, not at night. Either Ace or Eden could have killed Arei at 7:30 AM, so point to neither of them.

Ace Trying to Assign Himself to Guard Duty: This one is obviously a point for Ace if it were the final piece, but it's such a minor happenstance that I doubt Teruko would think to bring it up as the main thing against him. Like, she could bring it up in general, but I don't think it'd be her crowning jewel. Still, it's a piece of evidence we haven't discussed yet, so credit where credit is due.

Arei's Bound Wrists: Bound by the grippy tape that either of them could have stolen. Point to no one.

Broken Playground Lights: The lights in the Playground are broken, likely from the mechanism being hung up through the ceiling rafters. You could argue that this is a point for Ace's strength, but I don't think throwing a ball that high requires so much strength that Eden couldn't do it, especially if you might be able to use the see-saw to launch it somehow. Point to no one.

Dried Up Puddles: This has nothing to do with either of them. Point to no one.

Carousel Wrapped in Tape: Again, either could have had the tape, so point to no one.

Two Pieces of Rope: Either of them could have taken the rope from Storage and cut it; point to no one.

Food/Utensils/Napkins in Trash: Probably David's dinner. Possibly evidence of Eden and Arei having breakfast together, but that's a stretch. Point to no one.

Cups/Tissues/Palette in Trash: Rose says these were hers. Point to no one.

Incense in Trash: I know thebadjoe had (has?) theories about this being used to conceal the scent of Arei's body being hidden in the Relaxation Room a day earlier than anyone thought, but I find that to be too much of a stretch to accost Eden for it here. I think it's just filler. Point to no one.

Grippy Tape in Trash: I should just stop writing out tape evidence. Point to no one.

Broken Jugs: The killer used jugs of water to make Arei heavier, which broke when she fell. They probably had the fish water in them, but we're not talking about the fish themselves at the moment. I'll say point for Ace because the jugs are probably from the Gym, and we've seen Ace in the Gym far more times than we've seen Eden.

Needle and Black Thread: This evidence... might have to do with the ball of clothes, which we'll get to later. However, if this is relevant to the murder, it's probably from the Dress-Up Room, in which we've seen Eden but never Ace. Point to Eden.

Construction of the Note: After a bit of internal debate, I'm going to call this a point for no one. Why? Well, it's because Eden would have reason to help construct the note whether she was the killer or not. If she is the killer, she might have wanted to guide the discussion that followed its reconstruction, to urge to Rose and Whit that she's innocent and that someone must have framed her. It would also give her reason to come into the Trial already having a handwriting sample on her. However, if Eden is innocent, she also easily could have just wanted to help out. Most importantly, Eden already brought up the note being constructed in her initial defense, so I doubt Teruko would reuse it as the nail in someone's coffin.

Splashing Arei With Water: Either of them could have thought of this and accomplished this. Point to no one.

SOMEWHAT LIKELY FINAL PIECES OF EVIDENCE

Body Discovery Announcement: While this may very well play an important part in solving the case, I don't think it'll be the final smash, so to speak. That's mostly because we already talked about it a lot in determining whether Eden could have done it. In the end, I think we'll either have to come up with a way to justify Eden having cheated the BDA-- by Levi or Arturo having seen it or via see no evil-- or we'll accuse Ace without the BDA being a problem. I guess I have to call this a point for Eden because if the BDA were to be the damning evidence, I think it'd have to be for her. However, in my heart, this is totally evidence supporting Ace being the killer.

Arei's Broken Neck: I'm using this as a stand-in for the strength of the killer, in the sense of lifting Arei up and being able to stop the carousel. This is a point for Ace, because he's a professional athlete and Eden is generally the weakest person in the cast.

Scratches on the Ground: This evidence certainly seems to indicate that there was a struggle at the Playground, but is there anything more to it than that? I'm more willing to believe that Ace could have beaten Arei in a fight, but does that point to Eden because there would've been more of a struggle, or Ace because Eden wouldn't have wanted to fight Arei at all? Ace also normally wears heels (while Eden and Arei don't), which is what Hu cites will naturally scratch up the floor. This evidence is vague enough that I don't think it'll be used to point to either of them, but if it did, I think it's more likely to be Ace.

Ball of Starched Clothes: For starters, I'll share (I think it's) thebadjoe's theory that the ball was adhered together using starch from the Relaxation Room that's sprayed on the plants at night, because I saw some people questioning how the clothes could have been stuck together. Anyways, the ball of clothes itself is definitely a point for Eden, because we saw her in the Dress-Up Room specifically looking for Teruko's clothes. Although, Ace certainly saw Teruko and Hu's new fits, so he could have figured it out for himself.

Actual Acquisition of the Tape: I don't think this will be used as the final piece just because I feel like the narrative is pointing towards the damning evidence relating to Arei's actual murder as opposed to Nico's. However, it's relevant to discuss, so I'll list it here. Although Teruko says that Ace and Eden had equal odds at the tape, on the surface, it really makes much more sense if Eden was the one to take it. Star explained it well here, but I'll add my own recap: in the moments when the tape must have been taken, in between when Nico leaves and when MonoTV kicks everyone out, Ace is recovering from unconsciousness, covered in blood, full of rage, and has all eyes on him. Meanwhile, Eden is scared, sure, but she had a clear moment to actually examine the scene of the crime and is also knocked to the ground-- potentially right next to the tape-- with all her wits about her. While it's not impossible to believe that Ace sleight-of-handed the tape, Eden had a much clearer path to taking it. Point to Eden.

MOST LIKELY FINAL PIECES OF EVIDENCE

Arei's Missing Glove: To my memory, Arei's glove hasn't been brought up in the Trial at all, which is definitely strange, because it must be missing for a reason. If DRDTdev is crafting so much detail into the BDA that the swinging of the body is plot-relevant, there's no way he would have just missed giving Arei her glove. The question is, what was this used for? Those who are familiar with my theories should know that I've never been a fan of dress-up theories, so I'm going to discount that possibility. The thing I thought was the most likely was that the killer donned the glove so that their hands wouldn't get super scratched up from grabbing the grippy tape-d carousel bars, before gleamingtempest reminded everyone that both Eden and Ace already wear gloves. Still, looking at them, Eden's gloves are probably made of something more like cotton while Ace's gloves likely have some sort of tougher grip on the inside. So, Eden would probably be more likely to need something else to protect her hands. Also, given that both of Arei's wrists have marks on them, the glove was likely taken off before her wrists were tied. I can't figure out why Ace would have taken off Arei's glove before restraining her or how he would have gotten Arei to take it off otherwise, while for Eden, at least, I can imagine her asking Arei to take off her glove. Therefore, I'm going to call this one a point for Eden, while also throwing out that it might just be missing if Arei didn't bother putting on her glove for the early morning meetup.

Fish on the Playground: You've heard it from me before, Eden has an alibi through the entire time the fish could have been taken. With seemingly no accomplices (other than possibly Arei) in sight, I don't know how Eden would have gotten her hands on those fish. Meanwhile, Ace had a great opportunity. Point for Ace.

Pieced-Together Note: This evidence is very confusing, because I don't see how/why either of them would have implemented it. For Ace, I wrote that entire theory (I'm not going to link it a third time) about how, based on the information in the note and the layout of the first floor, it really seemed like eavesdropping was impossible, and the person who wrote the note had to be Arturo or Eden. Then there's what thefandomenchantress pointed out about Ace's pedantry making it seem like he wouldn't misspell "responsible" in the note, and that he just doesn't give me the vibes of someone who writes in cursive. By all accounts, it really seems like Ace can't have written that note. But then again, why would Eden have written that note? Okay, bad phrasing; she wrote it to get Arei to come to the Playground. But still, why would she sign it? Or if she were to sign it, to make sure that Arei knew it was her, why include so much detail about what Arturo's secret was? More importantly, why wouldn't Eden have just stuffed the ripped up note into her belt, or her pockets, or her room if it would serve to incriminate her? Put it wherever she put that glove! Hell, why not eat the note, if it's a life or death situation? There's the "reverse psychology" argument, but similar to what Teruko said this episode, it would have been much simpler for Eden to have pretended that Arei came to the Playground for some other reason without the killer planting some sort of note meant to frame her. And it's not like I think Eden is really the type to misspell "responsible" either. So, I'm kind of at a loss. It's such a major piece of evidence that I feel it has to come into play again somehow, but I'm not sure how. I think I'm going to call this one a point for Ace because at the very least I understand why he would want to leave this evidence here, even if I don't know how he created it. For Eden, I don't get why she'd leave it lying around, even if in pieces. You can call it revenge for Eden getting the point on the BDA, if you wish.

So, what are the results? If you add up all the points together, you wind up with 6 points for Ace and 6 points for Eden. Funny. If you tier the points, however, with 1 point for unlikely pieces, 2 points for somewhat likely pieces, and 3 points for the most likely pieces, you get 12 points for Ace and 10 points for Eden. Of course, that's using my tierlist of which pieces of evidence are most likely and on top of that, assigning the BDA and the Note the way that they are (if you flip them it's 11-11), but still. If you're invested in my findings, these are the results.

Needless to say, I hope you can understand why I'm having such a hard time determining which one of them will turn out to be the killer. Although, I must add...

If we're suspecting Ace first before we've done our Debate Scrum, that's not a good look for Eden never being suspected again in this Trial.

Concluding Thoughts

What? A conclusion? I've never done one of these on a dissection before?!!

Yeah, well, this time, I have stuff to say that I couldn't really correlate to one image in particular! And also I ran out of images, so this is what you get!!!

I spent that whole "A Piece of Evidence" section talking about the physical evidence that could support Ace or Eden being Arei's killer, but in it, I really didn't get to talk about the narrative implications of either of them being the killer at all. I know that Narrative Defenses are typically Venus' thing, but I have my thoughts on this, too. Namely, that both of them are riddled with narrative problems for being the killer at this point.

(Note: I don't mean "problems" in the sense that DRDTdev has written anything poorly. What I mean is, my own perception of how the characters are conveyed has me currently raising red flags about how either of their stories will pan out as a killer or how the rest of the story will pan out without them. At the time the answer comes, I have full faith that I'll be satisfied with the results.)

Let's start by looking at Eden, the spotlight character of the end of this episode. After that whole heartfelt speech with the CGs and the tears and the brilliant voice acting and the everything, how could Eden possibly be the killer?! I'm the one who was trying to defend the possibility of her still being the culprit after her little rant last week, and while I could probably do that again with this speech, it just felt so... I dunno, sincere. You can really feel Teruko's reluctance to put her faith in Eden, but her choice to do it anyways. Teruko already showed signs of growth this episode by admitting that she can't always solve mysteries by herself, so could that be a sign that she might come around on the group faster than we initially anticipated? If Eden was the killer, it would crush Teruko so hard. Is there any recovering from that? Can we really prove David right?

On the other hand, Ace is, quite possibly, one of the most intertwined members of the cast. He's probably Levi and Nico's #1 correspondent, and he's up there for Hu as well-- assuming they both survive the chapter, I'm sure their animosity towards each other will only grow in Chapter 3. With Ace just having given up on Levi, having just been the target of Nico's battery and Hu's verbal lashes, can the story really work without him in it at this point? Eden hardly has connections with anyone other than Teruko-- Hu's probably next, but Eden probably ranks, like, fourth on her list after Nico, Ace, and David-- which should make her more expendable. Is it really Ace's time already?

However, despite my complaints, I also think that both of them could be really good options as the killer here-- the two options I prefer over anybody else.

Eden is the character who's most connected with Arei. She plays into the chapter themes of being a good person beautifully. She's a good person, a tragic figure, that killed not because she wanted anybody dead, but presumably because she had something back at home that she had to get back to at all costs. Killing her off would break Teruko-- would break everyone. With the reveal of everyone's secrets, next chapter is going to be a living hell, so why not make that hell worse by removing the biggest conflict de-escalator here? It would force other people to step up to bat. It would give everyone a chance to change, what Eden wanted for Arei most of all. Eden's development isn't an arc, per say, but a fall-- a reminder that even the "most good" people can do the unspeakable.

Meanwhile, Ace has perhaps the most obvious reason to kill someone: he literally almost fucking died himself. Ace's execution would be a reminder of the physical reality of the killing game. That actions have consequences. Even if the guy who started all those fights is dead and gone, you can still feel his presence lingering in the arguments between the others. The guy you underestimated most of all-- not for being kind, but for being dumb-- can send you into a multi-hour spiral in which you accuse even the sweetest of participants. Ace's development isn't an arc, per say, but a fall-- a reminder that reveling in your own distrust and anger might lead you to do the unspeakable.

For someone who's spent so long believing that Eden is the culprit of the chapter, it's really amazing how down-to-the-wire DRDTdev has made the end of the case, where either option feels so believable that it's like you can picture the rope in their hands. Whether my theories, old or new, were right or wrong, I am highly looking forward to watching next week's episode and discussing it with you all. See you on Friday-- just try not to freak out too much before then, alright? (/aff)

[keepmycandleburning]

An addition to my post about how Voldemort is really invested in other people's love lives: Voldemort has no respect for people's privacy or bodily autonomy, and likes to insert himself into people's space and force people to have a more intimate relationship with him than they desire.

He uses this as a form of punishment, knowing it makes people uncomfortable, and also as a form of entertainment because he finds their discomfort amusing.

He lived on the back of Quirrell's head for almost a YEAR as a punishment after Quirrell failed to steal the Stone from Gringotts. A YEAR. IMAGINE WHAT HE SAW. Quirrell could not have done ANYTHING without Lord Voldemort seeing it and hearing it. I mean he was there when he was using the toilet, masturbating, etc etc. And imagine if Voldemort could also feel all of Quirrell's bodily sensations.

Voldemort forced Wormtail to care for him like a helpless baby, again for almost a YEAR, hand-feeding him and picking him up and God only knows what else, when they could have easily done the resurrection ritual really at any point in time—even if he truly wanted nobody but Harry, Barty Jr. could have brought him from Hogwarts.

Voldemort is clearly amusing himself with the situations at this time, making multiple jokes in just the couple scenes he's in:

'Care for my bodily needs for me,' is such an insane punishment to give Wormtail (definitely a punishment, for being a traitor which Voldemort hates and maybe other reasons) and I do wonder if he also did this to the Malfoys in DH, like forcing them to make him food and watch him eat and so on. It's just so weird to imagine that because he seems so inhuman but I mean, he does it in GoF so...

He also has Wormtail approach him and dress him by hand when he comes out of the cauldron naked instead of just bending down and picking up the robes himself:

He makes interestingly similar comments in the GoF baby era and at Malfoy Manor in The Dark Lord Ascending:

Asking his servants a question he knows damn well the answer to is 'it makes me uncomfortable to have this level of proximity with you,' and forcing them to falsely claim they have no problem with it and they actually want it.

He appears to have literally moved into Lucius's house with him, or at the very least is using it as a professional base. I almost always see people interpreting it as that Voldemort lived at Malfoy Manor, which I don't necessarily think has to be true, but I think it's a fine interpretation, and I enjoy it.

With both Wormtail and the Malfoys, Voldemort forces them to witness him in a domestic setting, forces them to claim they want it, and makes them aware that he knows that they hate it, which he knows is terrifying.

While he's at Malfoy Manor, he inserts himself into their family business (as discussed in linked post), commenting on a marriage in the family, speculating on what children the couple is going to have and what relationship the children will have with the Malfoys. We can see he's clearly using this to amuse both himself and the group of Death Eaters, as he makes multiple jokes (implying Bellatrix may be happier about her family member marrying a werewolf than she is about Voldemort's presence, asking Draco if he is going to babysit the cubs) and allows the DEs to laugh.

He also turns Bellatrix's complimentary but not overly inappropriate comment into what I think is unquestionably a sexual innuendo, and then immediately intentionally embarrasses her and induces a group of almost all men to laugh at her:

Regarding Bellatrix, there's often a misconception of viewing Voldemort as someone who would not stoop to a certain level of bodily intimacy or give up his own privacy—but he shares an entire body with Quirrell, he willingly gives up all of his autonomy/privacy with Wormtail, he even rises out of the cauldron fully nude (could have been done privately, I mean the Riddle House is right there, just carry the blood up the hill) and forces Wormtail to again interact with his naked body (and his real one now, not just the baby one) to dress him. So yeah he very much would, and he does, over and over. Voldemort gets bottle-fed and probably diaper-changed for 11 months but noooo he'd never have sex. Be serious. Voldemort takes every physical intimacy he's offered and much more.

Also just want to note that Voldemort is prone to discussing people's personal lives also in situations where it is wanted. For example, Barty Jr. reveals at the end of GoF that they clearly had some personal conversations about Barty's relationship with his father where Voldemort also offered information about himself. Voldemort definitely seems to know Bellatrix personally, and I would very much guess they've had personal conversations. And also the conversations with Snape about Lily (see last post too)—when Snape comes to him about sparing her, they have a thorough enough conversation that Voldemort believes Snape just 'desired her' and then they follow up later about how there are better women for Snape. He likes other people's business!

Overall, I very often read Voldemort as doing things for a major purpose of entertaining himself. He seems to find amusement in many different situations he's in and make jokes to himself and others. His tendency to overstep boundaries of bodies and personal space—both intentionally and by necessity—is one of these things.

[rafey-baby]

older!rafe loves to put his fingers in sensitive!reader’s mouth & her favorite place in the world is his lap...

cw: mean older!rafe being a tease & making her choke on his fingers, heavily suggestive, size kink, use of daddy

wc: 1.6k

in love w this man so more of him on the way xx

this is an additional part to this

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

Rafe has had a bad day.  

She notices it immediately by the way he greets her with only a brief peck on her cheek; carelessly throwing his jacket on the couch before slumping down against the cushions and letting out a washed-out exhale. 

For the entirety of the week, gloomy clouds have painted over the dusty, colorless horizon and wet water puddles have saturated the socks of passing pedestrians and dog walkers alike. However, Rafe is not someone who particularly minds rainy days, which is why she assumes that the reason for his disgruntled mood has something to do with business, as it more often than not does.  

He scratches at the buzzed hair still slightly damp from the rain while she simply stands there and blinks; unsure whether he wishes to be alone or not.  

”What are you doing? C’mere,” he suddenly orders in a somewhat of a stern tone and she has no choice but to pad over to his sprawled out legs, lowering to sit on top of him and letting him paw at her waist as his beefy arms pull her closer. And she can't really complain when the heat of his body seeps into her flesh in such a comforting way; makes her insides feel all fluffy and featherlight.

In the same way that Rafe seems to enjoy her needing him to take care of her when everything feels like too much, she loves being there for him; likes to feel useful, needed.

”Do you wanna...talk about it?” The muted melody of her vocal chords reaches his ears as vivid raindrops pitter patter against the glass of the windows and he groans in exhaustion at how perfect she is for him.  

”Not really,” he dismisses her with a shake of his head. ”How was your day, hm?” 

”It was uh, okay. I don’t know, the usual. Had some boring lectures, almost fell asleep…questioned every decision I’ve ever made,” she huffs out and settles her palms on his strong biceps.

”Mm,” he’s only half listening; beginning to mindlessly twirl a strand of her hair around his index finger.  

And she takes that as her cue to continue blabbering out complete nonsense as she begins to grow slightly restless being this close to him. Truth be told, she’s pathetically been missing him the whole day; the only thing granting her the motivation to go about her routines being the thought of seeing him at the end of it all. And now that he’s here, he seems frustrated; mind entirely elsewhere and she doesn’t know what to do except ramble on and on about her dull day.  

Then, completely out of the blue, he’s grabbing her jaw into his massive hand and hushing her. 

”Shut up for one second, yeah?” He mutters out before he’s tucking a thumb past her lips; a surprised squeak leaving the back of her throat at the sudden intrusion because he was the one who asked for her to talk in the first place.  

However, she can’t exactly say that it’s unexpected. He often gets a tad bit meaner whenever he’s had a dreary workday and takes it out on her in some form or another. And regardless of how unhealthy all of it might seem, there’s a crooked part of her brain that yearns for it; wants him to come to her whenever he’s upset. If she’s utterly honest, the thought of him searching for solace in anyone else makes nausea creep up her bones.

For some reason, the firm pad of his thumb making her tongue feel heavy in her mouth placates her; turns her brain into a needy, dingy muddle in a way that only Rafe is capable of.

”Shit, just needed something to suck on, huh?” He pushes down on her tongue, making her swallow around the digit with a whimper.  

”So fucking pathetic sometimes, you know? Just take anything Daddy gives you,” a low-pitched chuckle thunders from his chest, seemingly amused by the ease in which she gives into him.  

However, there’s also something gooey, syrupy beginning to whirl in the pit of her tummy. It reminds her of the countless times she was perched on the park swing as a little girl during the balmy summers of her childhood; thinking she could reach the fluffy clouds with the tips of her sneakers if only she could fly a little higher.  

”Feels nice to have something in your mouth, doesn’t it?” He ogles at her, mesmerized with intrigue twinkling in the Carolina blue that has always made her think of the sky.  

She lets out a faint moan when he drags the digit out and then back in, making her gag around it; her hips involuntarily rutting against the growing bulge straining against the zipper of his pants, desperate for some sort of friction if even through the soft material of her sweatpants.  

”Didn’t give you permission to move, did I?” He feigns confusion with a furrow of his brows that gets her to reluctantly halt her shifting.  

”Daddy, need your...” Her words are cushioned against the obstacle he’s planted between her teeth.

”Can’t really hear you, Kitten,” he mocks before he’s pulling the thumb out of her mouth altogether.  

However, the next thing she knows, he’s stuffing in his index and middle finger both at the same time. They reach far deeper; a muffled sound of gagging following his actions as he seems to discover a perverted sense of satisfaction from her struggle.

"What did you say?" His lips twist into a cruel smirk when she whimpers pitifully and tries to draw away from him in order to catch her breath but his other hand only grips her jaw tighter, keeping her exactly where he wants as she’s forced to breathe through her nose.  

”I think you can take it for a bit longer, yeah?” His teeth sink into his bottom lip as he simply stares, seemingly absorbed into the obscene scene before him.  

And she should feel embarrassed, demeaned even. And she does! However, the humiliation of letting him do whatever he wants as if she’s nothing but a cheap toy for his entertainment blurs over the lines when her cunt throbs in response to his degrading attention. She flutters uselessly around nothing; powerlessly begging for some sort of alleviation with a whine that merely earns her a tut of his tongue.  

Therefore, the only thing she can do is sit there like an obedient animal because he’s already scolded her once. She hasn’t turned entirely dumb just yet; knows firsthand how ‘Daddy doesn’t like to repeat himself’ and that the next time she misbehaves will result in a punishment her poor cunt probably wouldn’t be able to handle in this helpless state of hers. 

”Don't think you could take Daddy’s cock even halfway in this pretty mouth,” he mindlessly croons, thumb smoothing over the skin of her throat as she swallows the spit beginning to dribble down her chin.  

The thought manages to pique her curiosity because his cock has been at the forefront of her mind for a couple of weeks now, due to him constantly teasing her with the notion of letting her suck him off properly. He keeps murmuring about training her throat and fucking it raw but never actually doing it; merely allowing for her to drool and mouth over the tip because apparently she's 'not ready yet'.  

She’s beginning to turn into something desperate because whenever she tries to take more of him into her mouth, he stops her with a click of his tongue and big hands lifting her head off him. ”Don’t be greedy now, Kitten,” he’d scold her but she's certain she’s going to die if she doesn’t get to feel his cock nudge at the back of her throat soon.  

”Ray…” she tries to fruitlessly speak but he’s not exactly making it easy as he keeps stroking against her tongue. However, she doesn’t need to say anything. He knows what she wants.

”I mean, can barely fit into this tight cunt, don’t know why you keep whining about wanting me in this mouth so bad. Don’t think you’d even enjoy it that much. It’s a lot, you know?” There’s something almost patronizing in the way he’s speaking to her as if he’s not the one who brought the idea up in the first place.

It’s like he’s trying to talk her out of it yet his fingertips keep prodding past her gag reflex every few minutes, almost as if testing the waters before plunging in and it’s making her head spin.  

She whines and tries to defend herself but the digits fussing with the inside of her slobbery mouth don’t allow for her to form anything audible as she begins to grow troubled. 

”What was that?” The line of his mouth curls when he pokes deeper once more, causing her to moan with watery eyes pleading him for anything at this point.  

”Such a dirty girl. Bet you’d like choking on my cock, huh?” He grunts and she hums in response; nodding fervently before he’s finally withdrawing his hand and smearing the spit-stained fingers against her pouty lips.

They’re both panting heavily as he gently swipes at her under-eyes in order to catch the teardrops ready to trickle down before petting at the apples of her cheeks with a tenderness reserved only for her.

”Shit, always know how to make me feel better, don’t ya?” He rumbles fondly against her mouth; following his saccharine words with a messy kiss soon after. Maybe he'll finally allow her to have what she so badly craves…

[lamentationsofalonelypotato]

You Call It Madness But I Call It Love

Chapter 26: I Hate You, I Love You

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

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

Word Count: 8.3K

Warnings:  I'm gonna label this one 18+ because it's Soldier Boy. , Angst, Cursing, Sexual References, Family Problems- A LOT of family problems, Past Trauma, Death Mentioned, Self Deprecating Thoughts, Blood mentioned. Soldier Boy might be, is, really, absolutely, completely a little OOC. Soldier Boy is really all you need as a warning.

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

Internal Monologue is in first person and is in italics

Series Masterlist

Masterlist

A/n: I know that this isn't the final battle, but I wrote most of the battle and the chapter was so long (it was over 13K and I wasn't close to ready) that I needed to break it up. So now this is just a wonderful helping of angst in which the reader and Ben do the thing that they do best… fight with each other and then make up.

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

READER POV

The silence that follows Homelander's disappearance with Lou and Rosemary's pursuit after him is deafening. It feels like hours have passed, but it's only been seconds. You feel cold and hot, nothing and everything. Fear, anger, anxiety, and terror all congeal into an ice cold ball in the pit of your stomach. Rubble is covering the thick shag carpet on the bedroom floor, the air filled with flecks of dust and drywall from Homelander's departure. You weren't thinking about how Legend would react though, couldn't think of anything else except the fearful look on Lou's face when Homelander grabbed her and refused to release her.

The thought that Lou was trapped with someone like him broke you. The fear that came with the thought was almost mind-numbing, because Homelander was dangerous and now that Ben and you had told him that you didn't want anything to do with him, there were no other bargaining chips. Homelander couldn't be placated because you had crushed the glimmer of hope in his eyes by telling him that he wasn't your son and that he was monster. You knew that Homelander was smart enough that he wouldn't believe you now if you promised him family, not when he had Lou and probably had Rosemary.

Rosemary had minimal training when it came to fighting, yes you'd made sure that she knew the basics of self-defense, but she'd never fought another supe before. She was never interested in that sort of thing. And it wasn't always about using your powers when it came to fighting another supe, it was about tactics and knowing the weaknesses of your opponent. In a fight with someone like Homelander, you couldn't just rely on your abilities, you had to understand what you were up against and see the little ticks that he tried to hide. You'd watched stronger supes fall because they relied too heavily on their abilities, and you worried that Rosemary would be the same way. That she would be filled with a blind rage because Homelander had Lou and that he would use her anger and frustration to his advantage.

Tears were streaming down your face and you were still struggling in Ben's grip, where his arms were wrapped around you, holding you back from chasing after them. And the longer he holds you, as more seconds tick by, everything else goes and you're left with something else.

To say that you were angry was an understatement, you were livid. You hated that Ben had done this to you again. That once again Ben was acting like you weren't a supe, like you weren't powerful, and like you needed to be locked away from the world in a glass cabinet. You were sick of it.

Because you understood that Ben loved you, that he wished to protect you and that he feared losing you, but you refused to allow him to walk on eggshells around you and put you in a glass bubble because of his insecurities.

Yes Ben had told you that he saw your strength in the past, that he saw how powerful you were, and only wished for you to need him, but you were done with this. He didn't have any right to do it. And yes, he was the man you loved, but he was not your master. Perhaps that's what made all this worse for you, that Ben said how much he loved you and that he saw your power, but every time things went South he did shit like this.

"Ben, let me go." You growl, turning your head to look over your shoulder.

"No. Not until you promise not to go after them." Ben's eyes are narrowed. He knew that if you promised him, you wouldn't do it, that you cared too much about what a promise represented to break one.

It was true, which was why you weren't going to promise him shit.

"I won't promise that."

"Then I guess I'm not letting you go." He says it casually, but the look in his eyes is meant to convey that he is just as upset with this turn of events as you are.

"Oh I think you fucking will." Your teeth clench together and as you say it, you turn your palms face down in front of you and break his hold. Having Homelander's strength made it easier to face Ben. In the past the two of you had sparred together in training. Back then you didn't think too much about it, but now you understood that he did it to make sure you knew how to protect yourself when he wasn't there, that he worried about you more than he wanted to say and that was the only way he could prepare you without telling you how much you meant to him.

Ben stumbles back a step, his eyes flashing with anger and you’re sure that he can see the same emotions written on your face.

“What the fuck is your problem?” You snarl at him.

“My problem?” Ben sputters.

“Yes!”

“What the fuck are you talking about? If anything it’s you that’s having a problem-“

“Oh I’m sorry Benjamin. Am I being difficult?" You press a hand to your chest feigning remorse. "Forgive me for having a fucking problem when our granddaughter has just been KIDNAPPED by a psychopath. And our daughter is going to face him alone!"

"She's not alone-"

"Wrong. She is alone, because you wouldn't let me help her."

"I told you that I didn't want you to fight him alone. I told you that we would do this together-"

"I wouldn't have been alone if you'd stop being so damn overprotective!" You snap, stomping over to the chest of drawers, searching through them angrily for something to wear. It was difficult not to rip the handle off the front in your anger. You were still wearing your sweatpants and an oversized paint splattered t-shirt, and the last thing you wanted was to face Homelander looking like that.

Why can't he just understand that I am powerful too? Why can’t he let me go for once? Why does he keep doing this?

You hated that he was acting like you couldn't handle yourself, especially after he had seen you destroy Legend's backyard single handedly the other day with your mind. You were so sick of being underestimated. First Vought, then Stan, and now Ben, and you didn't want to be seen that way anymore. You were powerful and damnit you weren't going to "sit" and "stay" because some man ordered you to.

"I am not being overprotective!" Ben's voice is a low growl. "The other day I told you that I didn't want you to do this by yourself, that I didn't want you to do any of this alone. That I'm here-"

"Well congratulations Ben! Our daughter is doing exactly that right now, facing fucking Homelander alone, because you couldn't just let me go." You grab the end of your shirt and take it off, shucking it to the floor before you begin to put on the tight long sleeved black t-shirt. "You always do this."

"Do what?"

"Underestimate me!" You take off the sweatpants and quickly step into the dark jeans. By now your eyes were flashing bright purple and you could feel the thrum of your abilities under your skin, begging to be released. The energy was growing with each passing second, the lights in the room flickered and you could feel an unnatural breeze rustling the curtains that were hanging from the windows, coming from you.

"I do not fucking underestimate you. I know how powerful you are-"

"Well you have a funny way of showing it." You spit turning around to face him again.

Ben is also getting dressed. His sweatpants have been replaced with the bottom portion of his supe suit, his knife, pistol, and top half of his suit is laying on the unmade bed. "We have already talked about why I have a problem with you doing shit like that alone." His words are almost a growl, but you can hear an emotion on the edge of them that isn't anger. It was worry.

You knew what he was referring to, when he told you that he hated watching you die because it made him feel like he'd failed to protect you, that every time you were hurt, Ben struggled with that.

You knew how he felt.

The other day at Herogasm when Homelander had him by the throat all you saw was red. You didn't want to witness Ben's last moments just as he had witnessed yours multiple times. But it didn’t mean that you held Ben back from doing what he needed to do. You saw his strength and supported him. All you wanted was for him to support you.

A part of you deep down registered that he acted like this to protect you, that he didn't want to lose you as much as you didn't want to lose him. And as happy as you were that Ben was finally getting comfortable showing and talking about his emotions in front of you, you still wished that he would let you be strong for yourself. You had to be strong without him for forty years, protecting Rosemary and Lou.

Does he really think that Stan and Countess are the only people who I've killed in the past forty years? That there haven't been other people and supes that figured it out? Did Homelander really think that Stormfront's death was a suicide? 

"You let me face the twins!" You shout.

"Those incestuous fucks couldn't handle you when they were full powered, let alone when they were dried out." Ben states pulling his shirt over his head.

"I don't understand why Homelander is any different." You cross the room to grab the long dark green leaver overcoat, the same one that Ben had scraped the blood and bits of flesh off when you returned to Legend's after you killed Stan. "You saw me handle him the other day-"

"Because he is different!" Ben practically stabs his knife down into it's holster on his belt.

"Oh really?" You tap your lip as if deep in thought. "Huh. Because I remember you calling him a pussy when you were thinking about killing him. When you told me that Butcher asked you to."

"He is." Ben's eyes are blazing now.

Your sarcasm always did that to him, and it did tend to rear it's ugly head in the most inopportune moments. In all the years you'd known him, Ben never really did like it when you got like that.

The room was quickly heating with the force of Ben’s anger, a slight glow radiating out from his chest, but Ben was keeping it under control. At least for now.

"Oh, so he is a pussy, but not when I have to fight him?"

"Yes." He seethes through clenched teeth.

"I hate to break this to you Benjamin, but of the two of us, I'm the one who has fought him and kicked his fucking ass." You spit back at him, sick of his attitude.

Ben crosses the room in two heavy strides so that he's standing over you, his hands on his hips. "The only reason why you fucking fought him, was because you felt the need to step in when I had him handled."

"Did you have him handled? Could have fooled me. When someone has you by the throat I find it hard to say that you have a handle on the situation!" You mirror his stance, refusing to back down.

"Don't fucking do that."

"Do what?"

"Be sarcastic! You know that I hate it."

"That's just too damn bad!" You snap. "I'm not your dog Benjamin  you cannot tell me what to do."

"I do not treat you like a damn dog. I will say that you're being bitchy." His teeth are grinding together, so hard that you can audibly hear it.

"Well excuse the fuck out of me! I think I'm allowed to be bitchy," You seethe the word. "Because you're acting like a sexist dick!"

"I am not-"

"Yes you are." You poke your finger into his chest. "And I don’t want you to come with me."

"Like fucking hell I'm going to sit here and wait around for you to come back."

"I don't want you to come with me because I don't want to spend the whole fucking time worried that you're going to get in my fucking way and prevent me from doing what I have to do."

"I do not get in your way." Ben roars.

"Yes you do." Your eyes narrow. "And I don't need some "big strong man" to do things for me!" You make air quotes around 'big strong man' to emphasize the point, but Ben was not getting it.

This was one of the worst fights you'd ever had with him, you knew that. The two of you had many over the years, Legend was not lying when he told Butcher that, but this one was quickly nearing the same magnitude as the fight the two of you had the night of the premiere. This was more than just the two of you going through the motions of being frustrated with one another and more than the two of you shouting over a little problem, this was about Ben's continuous need to hold you back and keep you out of harms way like you weren't a supe and perfectly capable of doing thing by yourself.

"All I do is try to protect you." His eyes are dark now, not a trace of green in them, looking more like darkened pits. When Ben was really angry you'd seen them go that dark before, only the night of the premiere had you seen them like that when he looked at you, all the other times you'd seen that look when he felt the need to put someone in their place, to beat them into submission.

"I don't need you to protect me!" It comes out in one breath, uttered in an exasperated tone, because again Ben just didn't understand.

Ben stops. "You don't need me?" The words aren't in the same harsh tone that he used before, it's softer, and the anger in his eyes shifts to something else for just a moment.

You could feel regret swirling in your chest, because you did need Ben. You needed him more than life itself, didn't want to spend a moment away from him. You hadn't meant to say it like that. And you know that it was something Ben struggled with, the idea that you didn't need him anymore or never did need him.

"No. Ben, I do fucking need you, but I don't need you to protect me all the time." You emphasize with a sigh. "I've changed. I'm not the same person I was in Philadelphia. I'm not the same little girl. I've been taking care of myself and Rosemary and Lou for years. I needed to change and so I did."

Ben still looks like he can't fully understand what you're trying to say.

"Ben do you really think that Stan is the only person that I've killed in the past forty years?"

Ben blinks surprised.

"There have been others. People who asked too many questions. Supes that just didn't believe the lie that Stan and I made up." You sigh. You weren't ashamed of that, weren't ashamed of the things you had to do to keep your daughter and your granddaughter safe. "You think that every death leaves a scar, but not always." You murmur remembering the fight with Stormfront, the one you never talked about. When she showed up on your doorstep and threatened you and Rosemary. And the others who threatened you, tried to blackmail you because they didn't fear you the way they should have. Stormfront had expected the same woman she knew from the past, but you weren't her anymore.

"What do you mean there have been others?" Ben's expression hardens, malice swimming in his eyes when he realizes that other people have hurt you.

Flashes of the past come creeping up, years you spent with Ben and the cold ones that you'd spent without him stumbling around like someone trying to find light when they were buried underground. And you did love him, but you hated that he did this, because every time he did it made you feel small, it made you feel again like he didn't see you or comprehend who you were.

"They don't matter now." You sigh. "But I am not something to be possessed. I am not someone who’s going to hang on your arm make you look good and laugh at all your jokes. I am not something to be controlled or shielded from the world. If I wanted to just be a trophy or a doll for someone to use any way they wished I would have stayed and married Howard. But I didn’t. I came with you, but I never imagined that you would treat me that way. I never imagined that you would treat me like he did.”

Ben looks stunned. He should. In all the years you’d known him you’d never compared him to Howard like that. It was a low blow and you knew it, but you were pissed. It hurt you to say the words, hurt you to open up that wound all over again, but it was the truth. You didn't lie to Ben and you weren't going to start now.

The words ring through the air between the two of you, the space between your bodies suddenly miles apart even though you were standing in the same room. It was the first time you'd ever felt that distance with him, not since the night he came to your apartment the night that he almost killed Noir and after the two of you talked you cried in the shower frustrated and angry with yourself because you couldn't tell him how you felt and upset that he didn't love you the way you loved him. And now you were just as frustrated and angry with him.

Ben opens his mouth to answer you, the look in his eyes heartbreaking.

"What the fuck happened in here?" Butcher shouts stumbling down the stairs and into the room. He looks disheveled, like he just rolled out of bed.

"Homelander." Your gaze leaves Ben. "He took Lou, Rosemary went after him."

"He took Lou?" Hughie sputters from behind Butcher, fear flitting through his eyes.

It was the same fear that had begun to trickle back in after the fight you just had, but the things that Ben and you had yelled at one another were still there, soaking through the air like a foul odor and seeping in to your heart. You weren't sure if it meant that you could come back from it or not.

"Yeah." Ben grunts.

"Then lets go get her." Butcher says. "Come on." He gestures with his hand and begins to trek up the stairs with Hughie in tow, leaving Ben and you in the bedroom alone once more.

But this time you can't say anything, can't bring yourself to apologize because you're still so damn mad, and so instead you follow after Butcher, without giving Ben a backwards glance.

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

SOLDIER BOY POV

The car smoothly followed the long stretch of highway under Butcher’s hand, the trees along the road flashing by in a green blur, but it still didn’t seem like it was going fast enough.

It had taken Butcher and Hughie ten minutes to get ready after they stumbled downstairs to where Ben and you were and now the four of you were on the road and driving to New York. Hughie and Butcher were in the front seat while Ben and you sat in the back, but unlike the other day when you drove to Herogasm together, you were sitting on the other side of the car, arms crossed over your chest staring out the window, and not touching him at all.

Ben's jaw clenched when he remembered the day you drove together to Herogasm, when he held your hand and you leaned into his shoulder, reveling in the fact that you wanted him there with you.

And he wasn't sure that you still did. As much as he hated to admit it, that scared him. He didn't know where he should be if he wasn't with you. Everything else felt wrong. To be without you was like being without the sun, living in the deepest darkest cave and refusing to see the light.

That being said, Ben knew you were pissed, he was too.

Watching Homelander take Lou all but ripped him in half. He hated that the pussy had used a fucking child as a shield and hated that he had gotten away with it. Ben felt his body tense when he remembered the fear in Lou's eyes and a jolt of white hot rage burns through him at the thought that Homelander was hurting her.

Ben cared about Lou as much as he cared about you. She loved him and always made him feel welcome, and even though Rosemary never did, he was worried about her too. Maybe it was because he saw how much it hurt you for them to go, for Homelander to take Lou and for Rosemary to race after him. He knew that was your worst fear, but that didn't stop Ben from holding you back, for refusing to let you go alone to a place that Ben couldn't follow.

He'd never resented his abilities before, but he suddenly wished that he could fly. He would have soared after Homelander, after Rosemary, and after you if you had followed behind them.  That was why he had held you back though, because he couldn’t and he was scared.

The word felt like a curse to think, but it was true. Ben knew that it was fear coursing through his veins in those few moments when he realized that you were going to go after Homelander and he wouldn't be able to follow. He didn’t want you to face him alone, didn’t want to watch you die again.  After all these years, each time you died he feared that it would be the last, he feared that it would be the time it stuck and that he would be left all alone. He didn't want to live in a world without you, he'd done that for forty years and he was done with that.

Ben believed that it was his job to be there for you and after forty years of him being away, he wanted to be there to help you and take care of you. He was ready to make up for the lost time and he had told you how he felt the other day when you destroyed Legend's backyard, that he wanted the two of you to do this together.

That was before today.

Ben's hands are curled into fists on his lap as he forces himself to look out his own side of the car, refusing to look at you. If you could do the silent treatment he could too. Of all the fights the two of you had in the past, Ben knew this one was worse or at least it was as bad as when he fucked up, fucked Countess and then pushed you away when all he wanted was to bring you closer.

Honestly, you'd never compared him to Howard before. Ben could still remember the words you uttered to him the night of your birthday before you allowed him to take you to bed:

"Don't be jealous of Howard. He meant nothing to me. No one means as much to me as you do Ben."

Ben remembered the way you'd smiled up at him when you said it cheeks slightly flushed, lips red from when he kissed you.  He remembered the way he felt like he'd swallowed pure sunshine, because that was what you always did to him. You always made him feel like he was the only person in the world that was allowed to see the real you. He knew that you loved him, knew that he loved you more than life itself, but what you'd yelled him before Butcher came downstairs made him feel like taking a two by four to the chest. It hurt him.

He hated what you said to him, that you compared him to that asshole from back home. Ben wished for nothing more than to wipe the memories of that man from your mind. When you were younger sometimes Ben would see Howard and you sitting in the park or getting lunch. He remembered the way that you never seemed to smile as wide, how small you looked, how Howard liked you better in the gowns that your mother chose for you, how Howard liked you silent, and how Howard preferred your body covered in heavy coats even though it was the middle of summer.

That particular thing always pissed Ben off, because he knew how you struggled with that, struggled with the way you looked and Ben hated that someone else who stated they loved you made you feel small and ugly, when you were the most beautiful woman that Ben had ever seen in his life.

Ben hated Howard with a passion for that exact reason, because Howard did try to control you. He chose what you wore, complained about what you ate, discouraged your art, and did other unspeakable things that you had told Ben over the years. Things that made Ben want to go back to Philadelphia and end Howard’s bloodline.

But sometimes on the nights when Ben was away at boarding school and he couldn't sleep he would think of Howard and you. Ben would never admit this to anyone, but he would compare himself to Howard, try to find the little differences that Ben thought made you like Howard, the differences that Ben thought about doing himself to make you love him the way he loved you. It always made him feel like a fucking pussy though. His father probably would have beat him within an inch of his life if his father knew that Ben was comparing himself to another man. It was something that Ben's father ingrained in him, that Ben's was from a strong, proud, family that never did that. And that a real man knew that he was better than everyone else, and if anyone tried to challenge that then it was best settled in the ring.

Ben sighed. He was trying hard to weed out the toxic things his father told him. You helped immensely with that, by letting Ben know that he didn’t have to be strong all the time and didn’t need to keep everything inside, that he didn't have to hide what he was feeling from you.

He loved that about you, that he felt like he never had to hide who he really was, that you saw all the parts of him he locked away for so long from everyone else and didn't care. And in exchange he got to see all the wonderful things about you and he didn't want to trade that for the world.

Even though he was angry with everything the two of you shouted, he still loved you.

You were just so damn stubborn all the time and never wanted to see things the way I do and-

Ben gritted his teeth together as another wave of annoyance came over him. He really did hate how stubborn you were. Probably because you were just as stubborn as he was and that meant the two of you were often at a stalemate.

Ben glanced over to where you were looking out the window. You were frowning, arms crossed tightly over your chest, leaning back against the cloth seats.

The awkward silence in the car was palpable and Ben knew that Hughie and Butcher were also trying not to notice the tension in the backseat. There was a song playing on the radio that Ben didn't recognize, but Hughie kept bobbing his head along to the music while Butcher's hands tighten on the wheel.

Ben's eyes flick back to where you are staring out the window. He wanted desperately to know what you were thinking. Honestly he'd rather the two of you be yelling at one another than you give him the silent treatment. At least then he had some semblance of what was going on in your head. Ben knew you better than anyone, which meant that he was usually good at reading you, but not now.

Even Ben could admit to himself that you'd changed some, you were a little harder than you had been when he knew you, but it didn't make him love you any less. He had been shocked at your revelation that you'd killed other people. Ben was trying to ignore what you'd said about not all deaths leaving scars.

He'd been present for most of the ones that had happened in the past, but he wondered how many others there had been, and what other powers you had maybe acquired. That  was the thing about you, you weren't one to brag, never seemed to need to use as many powers to take someone down.

Your arms tighten around your body and Ben watches a single tear roll down your cheek.

Fuck. He thinks to himself. He really didn't want to be the reason why you're crying. He had been the main reason for so long and he hated that, he hated making you cry and hated when you cried in general. If you weren't so mad at him he would have unbuckled your seat belt and pulled you over onto his lap so he could hold you close and make you feel better, but he wasn't sure you wanted that, still wanted him.

The thought that you didn't made him feel like he was sinking into the sea, that the sun was slowly being sucked away while he's dragged under into the depths. Ben didn't know who he was without you, didn't know where he would go, and certainly didn't know what his purpose was if he wasn't in your life.

Before he can stop himself he reaches out to touch your arm, but you flinch away from him, still looking out the window and not turning to him.

Ben fights the urge to make you talk to him, and drops his hand back down to his thigh, curling it into a fist again. Ben felt something in his chest that was unfamiliar when you didn't let him touch you. He wasn't sure if it was fear or anger or frustration but it was there, simmering underneath the skin.

It reminded him too much of when he came back you didn't let him touch you, didn't want him anywhere near you. He didn't want to admit how much he relied on that, you touching him, not just sexually. The little touches you gave him on the back of his hand to comfort him when you knew he was anxious, or the brace of your hand against his shoulder or back when he was sitting down to reassure him that you were with him and that you weren't going anywhere or the moments you adjusted his collar when it was facing the wrong way, or smoothed a wrinkle at the front of his shirt or even just running your fingers through his hair the way you knew he liked, Ben lived for them, for all those little moments.

No one else had ever tried to touch him that way before, with comfort and love.

Even when you were children, the hugs you gave him when you saw him made everything else seem colorless in comparison. When he came back to you and you refused to let him touch you he was afraid you never would again and when you began to touch him again he felt like he’d ascended to another plane, but now your refusal for him to touch your elbow or even take your hand worried him.

He did not believe that he could survive without something as simple as that.

But all of that just solidified the one thing that Ben knew deep down, had known since the moment he realized how much you meant to him, that you were his one weakness, his fatal flaw, the one thing in his life that he couldn’t live without. He didn’t want to imagine that world existed because he couldn't survive without you.

That was why he didn't want you to fight Homelander alone. It wasn't because he didn't see how strong you were, it was that he was so afraid that he was going to lose you that he couldn't control himself.

He hated admitting that even to you, but now he knew he had to, because he knew his pride wasn't worth losing you.

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

READER POV

After the most awkward car ride in history, you were ready to get out and kick some ass. Despite Butcher's accelerated driving it had taken five hours to get back to the city from Legend's due to traffic and the whole time you were especially aware of Ben's presence. His brooding was practically audible from the other side of the car where he sulked and refused to look at you. You figured that just as he did the silent treatment you could too, but it didn't make it any easier.

Frankly nothing made any of this easy.

You were frustrated by this turn of events, that Homelander had done the one thing that you feared more than anything else in the world, the one thing that you had tried to prevent from happening your entire life, but he had.

But as upset as you were and worried about Lou and Rosemary, you were upset with yourself over what you had said to Ben. You hadn't meant to mention Howard, it was a low blow and you knew how much he hated the time you spent with Howard. You knew that Ben struggled with the thought that you possibly loved Howard more than you loved him and the  possibility that you regretted spending your life with Ben rather than him. And you knew that it hurt him as much as the moments you watched him with other women over the years.

You didn't want Howard, never wanted Howard, never felt anything for him, and for Ben you felt everything. Sometimes you were afraid to show Ben just how much you felt for him, feared that it would make him push you away when he realized just how much you needed him. In the forty years you spent away from him you tried to convince yourself that you didn't, but having him back was like everything coming back in color from black and white. But at the same time you were still a little angry, angry with him for holding you back when you knew you could have taken Homelander down yourself.

Because in your heart you knew that was what Howard did to you. Not that he held you back from fighting a psychopathic supe, but that Howard never saw you more as a possession, a jewel in a crown adorned on his lofty head, nothing more than something to parade around Philadelphia. That's why it was so different for you when you were with Ben, because Ben saw you, he never covered you up with heavy cloaks, he never discouraged your love of art, he never bored you or made you feel like your opinion wasn't important. Ben made you feel alive, and Howard? Howard made you feel like the empty husk of what you used to be.

You press your lips together in a tight line as Butcher pulls up the seat so you can get out of the backseat and set foot on solid ground. Hughie had been left behind at a gas station, and yes you hated that Butcher had done that, but at the same time you were relieved. You didn't want him to get hurt. You still believed that Hughie was different than you, not that he was innocent, but he wasn't jaded or hardened the way you had to be to survive.

Your gaze lifts to look up at the towering skyscraper that rises from the earth like a proud oak tree on a hill. Vought tower looks the same way it always has, bold and haughty like the men who founded the company all those years ago. The setting sun glints off the glass windows like the last glimmer of summer, something to be grasped before the cold of winter comes to take it all away.

You'd stood here looking up at the building before, watched the lights turn off and on, watched the people go in and out of the building, and had crossed the threshold a handful of times. The final time was to deliver last rights to your good friend Liberty.

She, like a few others, hadn't believed your story and had shown up to speak with you. But unlike the others, her methods of finding out if you were still you was to try to kill you. She had succeeded and then left stating that she would "be back to catch up." When you'd gone to Vought to find her, you hadn't been expecting her to look the way she did, half burned and laying in a hospital bed. You didn't know why she looked that way. It had been odd to stand there over her, odd to remember the person she used to be, proud and powerful and then look at the broken body that laid there. Her death had been a necessary evil, the only time you ever stepped foot in Vought Tower in the last forty years, but if it was to protect your family it was worth it to you.

Your frown grows the longer you stand there underneath the ominous glow that emanates from inside, anxiety prickling along your skin like the spines of a cactus. You couldn't remember the last time you felt this way, just that you didn't want to feel this way ever again. The building was a symbol of everything you hated, and you vowed deep down to destroy Vought and send it to hell where it belonged and make those who were responsible for Vought's success pay.

You think about the other day in Legend's backyard, when Ben pulled you back from the darkened pit and back into the light, when Ben told you that he didn't want you to do it alone, that he wanted to be there for you, and when he promised you again that he wasn't leaving and that he wanted you to give him all your burdens.

Yes he wants to be there for me, I get it, I GET IT. You sigh in frustration. I understand that he loves me and that he wants to protect me, but I wish he would just-

"Y/n?" Ben says from behind you. His voice is quiet, reserved, but you know that he's probably just as upset as you are.

You turn and glance up at him. Ben hadn't tried to touch you since you shifted away from him in the car. It hurt you to do that to him, to pull away from his touch when all you wanted was for him to comfort you. The night he came back to you, you hadn't lied when you said that he might have been the one who hurt you, but he was the only person you wanted to comfort you. That was the hard thing about loving him and him being your best friend. It was difficult to draw the line in the sand, to separate the two.

The feeling was normal. It was the same one you had when he broke your heart. You had hated him then too, but he was still the only person you had and the longer you stayed in bed running over the years you spent with him, the more you wished that he was with you. The only person that you wanted to comfort you and care for you even after everything that he had done and yelled at you at the premiere, was Ben.

Sometimes it scared you how much you relied on his touch, how much you needed just a comforting hand on your arm, or for him to tuck your hair behind your ear or for him to kiss you or for him to hold you while you slept. You didn't realize how much you needed it, how much you craved it until he came back and you allowed him to touch you again.

In the car you had been trying not to cry, but everything was building, your frustration with Ben over the conversation the two of you had, fear over what would happen to Lou and Rosemary, and red hot anger directed at Homelander. A single tear had slipped and when Ben had tried to comfort you, you pulled away from him.

Fuck.

You hadn't wanted to. You'd wanted to curl up against him and let him make you feel better, but you were still angry with him for holding you back.

The words you yelled at him momentarily ring in your ears. It wasn't just that you compared him to Howard, it was you told him you didn't need him to protect you. But you knew Ben better than anyone and you knew that he was probably circling the drain and thinking that you basically told him that you "didn't need him" when you did.

"Yeah?" You clear your throat. It was difficult to look at him, not when you were so close to just breaking down and telling him that you were sorry. You knew that you needed to be focused on what was about to happen, but you couldn't, not when things were like this between the two of you. You hated fighting with him.

Ben's gaze drifts to where Butcher is staring expectantly at you.

"Give us a minute." Ben says to him.

"Why?"

"Just give us a fucking minute." Ben snaps, obviously annoyed, but you knew that he was probably upset about the fight the two of you had and he was projecting that anger onto Butcher.

"Fine. I’ll clear the lobby. Don’t take too long." Butcher frowns, but turns and stalks up the front steps of the building.

You turn back to look at him, unable to stop the sarcastic comment from building. Because yes, you wanted to forgive him, but at the same time you were still frustrated with him. "What? Are you gonna lock me in the car? Or are you going to tell me again how you don’t want me to fight him?"

"No." Ben growls.

"Then why-"

"Because I don’t want it to be like this." Anger lurks on the edge of his words, but at the same time you can hear something else in his voice, something that sounds a little broken. And it makes your heart clench in you chest.

"You don’t want what to be like this?" You ask confused.

"I don’t want us to go in there angry at each other." He continues.

"Why not?"

"Because I-" Ben stops, his jaw tightening for a moment, before he sighs. "I hate it when you’re mad at me. When you don't let me-" He swallows and you watch his eyes drop to your hand for a moment and you understand what he's saying.

That he hates it when you don't let him touch you. You hated it too.

"You think I like being mad at you?" You whisper, fingers itching to touch his cheek, to push back the dark hair that has fallen forward into his eyes.

"No." He breathes.

You stand there for a moment, letting the silence fill the space between you. The sounds of the city rising around you, the sound of traffic, vendors downtown, and the smell of the pretzel stand around the corner are everywhere. There aren't as many people on the streets now, but you know that it's only a matter of time before someone recognizes Ben in his uniform.

You sigh as you look up at him. Despite the uniform there's a vulnerability in his eyes that you can't shake and you understand how much it must have hurt him too.

“I don’t like it when you’re mad at me either.” You reply.

"I don’t like being mad at you." Ben exhales heavily. "And I don't want it to be like this before we go in. If something happens I-" He stops talking. "I don't want our last conversation to be like that."

"What do you mean you don't want our last conversation to be like that?" This time you can't help, but take his hand and Ben physically relaxes as you do, squeezing your hand back just as tightly.

"If this doesn't work out, if-" His jaw locks and he drops his eyes from yours. "I can't lose you."

"Ben." You whisper and this time you can't help but hug him, pull him close to comfort him. Your arms go up around the back of his neck, burying your face into the hollow of his throat. "You're not going to lose me. Everything is going to be fine." Ben's body immediately curves around you, arms holding you against him so tight it's almost painful, like he thinks you'll never allow him to do this ever again.

"I'm not strong enough for that y/n-" He whispers it so low that you're not sure he meant for you to hear it. "I can't-"

"Shh." You breathe, moving your hands into his hair, smoothing down the unruly strands at the back of his head. "I promise you're not going to lose me." You pull back to look him in the eye. "But I want you to treat me like an equal, like you see my power-“

“I do.”

“No you don’t, because if you did you wouldn’t hold me back all the time.”

“I’m trying not to, but-“ Ben sighs leaning forward into you. “You said it’s your job to take care of me, well it’s my job to protect you.” His expression hardens. “And I failed before.”

“What happened to me was not your fault.”

“I should have been there. I shouldn't have left you for a second-"

“Just like I should have been there in Nicaragua." You whisper back, with a sorrowful sigh. "Just like I should have asked more questions, should have made sure that you were really gone. Then you wouldn’t have had to be in that lab, you wouldn't have been alone-"

“That’s not your fault.” Ben's forehead is against yours now. "Please don't feel bad about that."

“It doesn’t matter if it was my fault or not. I should have been there for you. I will forever feel guilty that I didn’t come for you sooner and that you had to endure that for forty years.” You drop your eyes to his chest.

“Then I’ll forever feel guilty for the way I treated you.” Ben replies.

"I don't want you to." Your gaze rises to his once more, locking with his deep green eyes.

It was true. You could still remember what he said to you, remember what he did, but he was here now and he was doing everything right to make you forget. He was being so different and working so hard to make up for the past that you didn't feel the prick of pain with the memories that you used to.

"And I don't want you to feel guilty about what happened to me." Ben murmurs, raising his hand to cup your cheek. "Those years don't matter to me. The only thing that matters to me is being here with you. And I don't want to miss another second because I did something stupid again."

"And I don't want you to feel guilty about what you did to me anymore. Because you're making me forget, you're doing everything you can to be different, and you're making me fall in love with you all over again." You whisper, leaning in to his hand where his thumb traces gently over your cheekbone. "And I don't care what the past held as long as I have a future with you, as long as you're here with me I don't care about anything else."

Ben smiles when he kisses you, the shape of his lips imprinting against yours, and making you lose yourself in loving him the same way that you had all those years ago. "I love you sweetheart."

"I love you too." You smile just as wide, fingers tangling in his dark hair. "And I'm sorry. I shouldn't have compared you to Howard. You're not like him Ben. You are my everything and Howard was nothing."

He nods. "I'm sorry too. I didn't mean to hold you back I just wanted to make sure you were safe."

"I know. I want to keep you safe too." You nudge your nose against his, breathing in the same air for a few moments.

He is still smiling softly. "Why are we like this?"

"Like what?"

"We always find something to fight about and I-"

“I kinda like it.”  You shrug.

“What?”

“Not that I like that you’re mad at me or being mad at you, I just think that we like to keep it interesting." You snort. "I think that if we didn't have a healthy amount of fighting we would just be so boring and-"

Ben kisses you again to shut you up, but it doesn't work.

"Plus, I like to think that the make-up is worth it after." You whisper against his lips with a smirk.

You watch Ben's eyes darken, with your comment. "Well, sweetheart, I'd say that we've got about forty years to make-up for." His hand on your waist tightens, moving his lips to your ear. "And I look forward to every single second." Ben's voice is rough and he bites your earlobe, sending a shiver down your spine that for a moment clears your worry about Homelander.

"I love you." You smile, kissing him like it's the last thing you'll ever do, like it's the greatest good you'll ever amount to.

"I love you too." Ben replies kissing you like it's the last time he'll be able to and trying not to think that it could be.

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

A/N: A lot of delicious angst before the final fight! I have written most of the fight already, but I am hoping to finish out the next chapter by the end of the week... if the writer's block isn't blocking. 😂😭 I hope y'all liked this one. I see only maybe 2 chapters left officially in the series, but we will see how everything wraps up.

As always thank you so much for reading! I am so happy that so many people love this fic as much as I do. Let me know if you'd like to be added to the taglist! :)

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[fluentmoviequoter]

A Home to Thrive In

Pairing: Tim Bradford x fem!neighbor!reader

Summary: You still live next door to Tim Bradford's mother, and when he visits for the first time in years, you have to decide if you're willing to let go of the idea of him you fell in love with.

Warnings: spoilers/rewrite for 4x09 "Breakdown", angst, arguments, discussion of past abuse, r is Tim's childhood friend, fluff and comfort

Word Count: 3.5k+ words

A/N: It's late. This may be terrible. I will reassess tomorrow.

Masterlist Directory | Tim Bradford Masterlist | Request Info

“Have you talked to Mom recently?” Genny asks. When Tim doesn’t answer, she sighs and murmurs, “Don’t know why I thought you would.”

“Isn’t it bad enough that you’re dragging me back into the Tom Bradford-centric world I’ve been trying to outrun since we were kids? Now you want me to tell Mom about everything that’s happened,” Tim argues. “I’m already working on a murder case that Dad hid for decades. I don’t need more family drama right now, Genny."

“She worries about you, Tim. Just wants to be part of your life again.”

Tim's phone rings, a saving grace, and he excuses himself as he pushes his chair away from the table and leaves his sister.

“Tim,” Lucy greets. “I brought Monica Ochoa back in.”

“The woman who was killed by the gun I found in my dad’s house. Why?”

“Because I knew there was more to her story. You- you couldn’t see past the version that you wanted to see.”

“What’d she say?”

“Your dad… Tim, Monica confessed.”

Tim hangs up on Lucy, walks directly past his sister while ignoring her questions, and gets in his truck to visit his dad. To see if he’ll tell the truth when he has no other choice or if he’s really the terrible man Tim thinks he is.

“You didn’t kill Frank,” Tim states.

Tom sighs before he counters, “Sure I did. Now, come on. Cuff me. Let’s just get this over with.”

“Monica confessed.”

“Leave her out of this.”

“Frank was beating her. She fought back. She shot him. She was terrified, so she ran to you. You came up with the burglary story, helped her stage the house, then you hid the gun in case the cops got too close, and you needed to frame someone else.”

“He was brutal, abusive,” Tom explains. “She deserves a medal for what she did.”

“He was abusive?” Tim repeats.

“What? You think I’m like him? I was nothing like Frank. I taught you what you needed to know, son. You’re a man now because of me.”

“No. I’m who I am in spite of you,” Tim replies. His dad doesn’t speak, and Tim nods as he adds, “Goodbye, Dad. I hope it hurts.”

In the hallway outside his dad’s room, Tim pulls his phone from his pocket and calls Grey.

“Bradford,” Wade greets as the call connects.

“I need to take some personal time,” Tim says instead of a salutation.

“Lord knows you’ve stashed up enough of it. Where are you going?”

“To see someone I should’ve visited a long time ago.”

“You did the right thing, Tim. Take your time and know we’re here for you when you get back.”

Tim ends the call, then texts his sister that he’s taking her advice. He hasn’t been home to his mom’s house in years, and he needs her, needs space from his family and his station, and needs to work through the events of the week on his own. Though he isn’t sure if he’s welcome or if his mother's new home will feel the same as it did fifteen years ago, Tim gets in his truck and drives toward the last place he felt at home.

Your evening walk is refreshing, and the sunset helps you focus on the beauty of the day as you wind down.

“Sweetheart!” your neighbor calls, waving from her porch.

“Mrs. Bradford,” you greet with a smile as you step onto her walkway. “How are you today?”

“Good, good. Talked to Genny earlier, she’s visiting Tim.”

You smile and nod, unwilling to touch the sensitive subject of Tim. Growing up with him, you saw the worst parts of his childhood, home life, and father, but that never added up to you. He ran away from his mother, from love and home just to outrun bad memories. A task you know to be impossible.

“How was your book?” you ask, moving away from Mrs. Bradford’s stressful family life. “Did you finish it last night?”

“I did. You were right, the twist at the end was a shock. I thought the vigilante did it!”

“Interesting,” you muse. “I was torn between him and the builder.”

Mrs. Bradford hums before her oven beeps.

“You take care of that,” you say as you wrap your arms over her shoulders in a quick hug. “We’ll talk about the book and start the sequel on Saturday?”

“Count on it. Have a good night!”

“You too!”

Headlights reflect off your front door as you push it open, but you don’t bother to turn around and see who it is. Two of your neighbors get home around this time, and there aren’t many visitors or tourists in your area. So, when you’re closing the curtains and notice an unfamiliar truck in Mrs. Bradford’s driveway, you decide to watch and ensure everything is okay.

“Tim!” Mrs. Bradford calls excitedly as the driver’s door opens. She rushes out and pulls him into a hug, and from the way he grips her and buries his face against her shoulder like he’s eight again, you know that this isn’t just a sorry I stopped calling, Mom visit. Something happened and that’s the only reason he’s home.

“Welcome home, Tim,” you whisper before you pull the curtains together and put the distance you’re used to back between you and Tim.

You kneel by your front door to tie your shoes. Then you untie them and loop the laces differently. Knowing that Tim Bradford is next door makes you hesitate to go outside. Yet, you don’t want to let him impact your life more than he already has. It wouldn’t be surprising to learn that his mother already told him about your downward spiral, how you fell apart when he left without so much as a word. As a kid, you fell in love with Tim Bradford, and you stayed in love with the idea of him in high school. Then, when he disappeared without a word or trace, and you only found out that he was a cop for the LAPD through his sister, you decided that the idea of him was as good as you would ever get.

“You can do this,” you tell yourself as you stand and lay your hand on the doorknob. “It’s just the man who has occupied your every thought for years. Just walk by.”

The magnitude of your mistake hits you in full force when you’re nearly past Mrs. Bradford’s fence. Tim says your name and your heart clenches at the realization that you remembered his voice so well. Years of hearing it in your dreams will preserve your memory like that.

“Tim,” you reply, swallowing as you face him. “I didn’t know you were coming home.”

“It wasn’t exactly the plan. Genny showed up and everything just kind of blew up in my face.”

Kind of like what you put me through, you think. Rather than saying it, you nod sympathetically.

“Did my mom… did she tell you about my dad?”

“Tim, your mom tells me a lot. But no one close to your mom has brought him up in years.”

“Wish my sister had gotten that message,” Tim scoffs.

“I hope you enjoy the time with your mom,” you interrupt. “But I’ve got to get going.”

“Right,” Tim agrees. “I’ll see you around.”

You nod but feel your chest tighten as you hope he’s wrong. Losing Tim Bradford again is not an option, so you refuse to let him closer than he needs to be.

“I didn’t know she moved with you, still lived next door,” Tim muses as his mother ushers him inside for breakfast.

“You don’t know much,” she points out, not unkindly but not untrue. “She knows more than you. I’ve told her everything Genny passed along. You were so close as kids.”

“Yeah,” Tim agrees before he trails off. He remembers being friends, but not the kind of friends that would ask about each other. “I don’t think she wants to talk to me.”

“Well, you can hardly blame her.”

“What does that mean?”

Tim’s mother looks at him and presses her lips together. He has her eyes, but he doesn’t have her understanding or the intuition about people she tried to instill in him when his father wasn’t trying to teach him to be a man.

“If you can’t see it, Tim, it’s too late to explain it. She’s coming over for lunch and our duet book club tomorrow. You have thirty hours to read the book if you want to participate.”

“Thank you for letting me come home, Mom.”

She lays her hand on Tim’s shoulder and promises, “You’re always welcome here, Timothy.”

You knock on Mrs. Bradford’s door while Tim’s truck is gone. With one of her signature ceramic loaf pans in your hands, filled with your favorite cookies, you wait for the door to open to return her dish and offer some goodies.

“Sorry to…” you begin as the door opens. “Oh, Tim. Sorry, your truck was gone so I assumed your mom would be here.”

“She borrowed my truck to do something that she refused to have help for. Come on in.”

Tim opens the door for you, and for reasons beyond your comprehension, you accept his invitation and walk inside. After you set the pan on the counter, you turn around to leave, but Tim is leaning against the table and watching you.

“Enjoying your time off?” you question, wringing your fingers together behind your back.

“I am. Especially after the last case I worked on,” Tim answers. “My mom hasn’t told me much about you.”

You hum and look at your feet as you reply, “Not much to tell.”

“She seems to tell you a lot.”

“Look, Tim, I’m just trying to respect your boundaries. She told me that your dad was involved in something, a murder, but it’s not my business.”

“Frank Ochoa,” Tim interjects.

You furrow your brows as you ask, “Monica’s husband? But that was a robbery.”

Tim tilts his head to the side as he says, “My dad admitted to killing him. He was protecting Monica.”

You pull your bottom lip between your teeth and nod.

“But you knew that, didn’t you?”

“What?”

Tim stands from the table, his crossed arms falling to his sides. “You knew something and didn’t tell anybody, didn’t you?”

“Tim, I-“

“Look, I’ve been lied to by too many people this week. You still have the same tell you did in elementary school. What did you know?”

You clench your jaw and step to the right to go around Tim, but he moves to block you, and rather than running into his chest, you retreat further into Mrs. Bradford’s kitchen.

“This case – the people there – have been lied to, we’ve been wrong, there’s been no justice for decades. And you’ve known something the whole time? How can you live with that?”

“How can I live with it?” you repeat incredulously. “How was I – a child, Tim – supposed to go to the police and tell them that I saw Frank beating Monica over and over? They wouldn’t have believed me!”

“You didn’t try!”

“Yes, I did!” you yell. Wiping the single tear that managed to escape in your memories of the only time you tried to help your neighbors, you lose some of your fight.

“Doesn’t seem like you tried very hard,” Tim adds under his breath.

You laugh once and shake your head. “I told the police your dad was beating you, Tim. You know what happened? They came and asked him about it. He denied everything. After they left, he took you out into the backyard and demanded to know who you told. So, see if you can wrap your cop brain about why I was scared to tell on someone else.”

“I didn’t know you-“

“You didn’t know anything, Tim.”

Tim scoffs and argues, “Oh and you know so much about who I am now because of what my sister tells my mom?”

“At least I talk to your mom, Tim,” you snap. Immediately, you regret it. “I’m sorry,” you offer.

“I couldn’t,” Tim defends.

“Did you try?”

Tim’s truck rumbles as his mother returns from the store, and you hold Tim’s stare until the engine shuts off.

“Can I leave now, or do you want to blame me for something else?”

Tim steps back and opens his mouth, but you storm past him before he can say anything else. You return to your house after you hug Mrs. Bradford and tell her about the cookies. The idea of Tim Bradford that you’ve clung to since childhood is growing fuzzy around the edges, and alone in your house, you cry over what he told you today, the mistakes you made, and the loss of the Tim you were born to love.

Someone knocks on your door the following morning, and you stare at it rather than walking toward it.

“Sweetheart, it’s me,” Mrs. Bradford calls.

With a sigh, you stand and invite her in, not caring if she notices your teary eyes or unusual attitude.

“I thought you might want someone to talk to. Somewhere away from my son,” she explains as she leads you to your dining table. “So, I brought food and company. Choose what you want.”

“It’s not just Tim,” you explain. “I mean… he was right, but it’s different.”

“Different than when you fell in love with him?” she guesses.

You look up at her, wide-eyed at her question. She smiles and gestures for you to continue.

“I’ve been dreaming about him coming back, thinking that we could pick up where we left off, but he’s nothing like what I remember.”

“Time will do that,” she soothes, taking your hand over the table.

“It didn’t do it to me.”

“Sweetheart… you didn’t let it. I love you, you know that, but you cling so tightly to the past, to the familiar, that you haven’t allowed yourself to adapt to the beauty of the growth and changes around you. Haven’t even let yourself show the woman you’ve become.”

You lick your lips before sniffling and asking, “What if I don’t like it?”

“But what if you thrive in it?”

Wiping the back of your free hand across your face, you clear your tears and nod. You know that Mrs. Bradford is right, but you also know that there will be pain in the beauty when you choose to move forward.

“Does he hate me?” you whisper.

“Timothy? I don’t think he could ever hate you.”

“He can sure blame me for a lot, though,” you point out with a wet laugh.

“Beating himself up over that at the moment, if you’re wondering. And, when you’re ready to talk to him, maybe you should try getting to know who he is today.”

You nod and pull a homemade candy from her special-made meal. “Thank you.”

“Anytime. Now, are we going to keep crying over silly boys or try to solve a murder mystery on a pioneer plantation?”

Dressed in your favorite outfit, you shift from foot to foot on Mrs. Bradford’s porch as you try to get your courage up. Just as you lift your hand to knock, a throat clears behind you. You spin around quickly, then release a breath and press your hand over your racing heart.

“You could have told me you were back there sooner,” you point out softly.

“I wanted to see where this was going,” Tim answers, closing his tailgate. “Listen, about the other day-“

You raise your hand to silence Tim and shake your hand. “I came over here to talk to you. About more than that. Do you maybe want to go somewhere to do that?”

Tim nods and opens the passenger door of his truck, offering his hand as he helps you in without a word. The drive to the local high school football field is quick but silent, and when you exit the truck and join Tim on the tailgate to watch the sunset, you take a shaky breath.

“I’m sorry you had to go through all of that with your dad, the house, Frank, all that,” you begin. “But I’m sorrier that I didn’t do more back then.”

Tim nods and says, “You were right. They wouldn’t have listened, or it would’ve spooked my dad and made everything worse.”

“I guess we’ll never know.” You look at Tim’s profile and ask, “Are you okay?”

“No,” he admits without hesitation. “My dad was protecting Monica. He never did anything to protect us, but his mistress – broke half a dozen laws for her.”

“I knew that, too,” you whisper. “My mom made me stop sitting by the door after that year, which was probably a good thing. Uhm, are they going to prosecute your dad?”

“No. Not on his death bad. But it doesn’t matter. He’ll get judged soon enough.”

You nod, your eyes still on Tim rather than the pink sunset before you. His eyes have teared up, and everything inside of you begs for you to just let go.

“Tim, you’re nothing like him. You know that, right?”

Tim nods a tiny movement that breaks your heart. This isn’t the Tim you remember, not the Tim from elementary school or the one who was punished for your ill-conceived attempt to help. Most importantly, you realize, this isn’t the Tim you’ve dreamed of loving. Tim Bradford, the man before you, is who you can love, want to love, and desperately, wholly, devastatingly need to love.

With a deep breath, you release everything you’ve been holding onto. Your grip on your dreams, on your memory of Tim and what you thought you wanted, and the moment that trapped you in your position of being terrified to do the wrong thing in your efforts to do good weakens, and you feel like a flower in bloom. Everything seems new, the possibilities are endless, and you’re a new person who isn’t afraid to do right, even when it terrifies you and carries the potential to break your heart.

“Tim,” you whisper.

He turns toward you, drawn by the tone in your voice, and blinks past his tears. You shift on his tailgate and raise your arms toward his shoulders. Tim leans forward and meets you halfway, pulling you into his lap as you collapse into a hug that heals the broken edges of who you are. With Tim’s arms against your back and waist, you feel more at home than ever, and he feels the same. His mother’s house was never the home he was returning to, but a pursuit for this feeling, right in your arms.

“I’m so sorry,” you murmur against his shoulder.

He shakes his head, tightening his grip on you, and this version of you - unafraid, complete in Tim Bradford’s arms - is ready to thrive. You won’t heal overnight; neither of you will, but it’s a start.

His phone buzzes in his pocket, and Tim laughs against your neck before he pulls back gently to retrieve his phone from his pocket.

“My mom,” he tells you. “If you haven’t kissed her yet, what are you waiting for? Another set of wrinkles?”

You fail to stop the laugh that escapes at Mrs. Bradford’s bluntness. Then, you realize how glad you are that he’s reading her text messages.

“Well?” you ask. “Should we kiss or wait for more wrinkles?”

Tim pushes a stray hair out of your face and promises, “None of it was your fault.”

You nod and thank him, then brush your thumbs against his cheeks. “Last time we were on a field together, it was raining. I also wanted you to kiss me then.”

“You never told me.”

“How was I supposed to tell you that, Tim?” you ask. “I… I was caught up in an idea of who we could be, and I was scared to ruin it by doing something new.”

“And now?”

Rather than asking for what you want, you take it as you lean forward and kiss Tim. One of his hands moves to the back of your neck, and the first raindrop feels suspiciously like a teardrop as it runs down your face and onto Tim’s. You laugh as you run toward the truck doors, thunder rumbling as a storm approaches from the west. In the truck with Tim, you find yourself face-to-face with a better version of the dream life you craved in Tim’s absence.

Bonus:

“Get inside, it’s going to start raining again!” Mrs. Bradford calls from the kitchen when she hears the door open. “Don’t need you catching a cold on your time off, Timothy.”

You press your lips together and smile at Tim, who is drenched after offering you his jacket to hold over your head in a poor attempt to stay somewhat dry.

“She’s going to mother you, too,” he points out.

“Hey, I’m used to it,” you reply. “Like it, even.”

“Oh, dear,” Mrs. Bradford murmurs as she appears in the doorway. “Go get dried off and change, Tim.”

After he disappears into his room, Mrs. Bradford offers you a towel and a change of clothes. She smiles as she leans in and says, “Flowers that thrive need plenty of rain to grow, you know.”

[all-pacas]

OKAY. 13 AND CHASE IN AFTER HOURS THO

The fact that when 13 needs help, she calls Chase. Why does she call him? Why doesn't she call someone else? She needs someone to deliver her a portable ultrasound, and okay, you could argue Foreman is a bad call because he's her ex and would pry. That House would just refuse. Taub would have been a good pick tbh, he would drop it off and just go home no questions asked. But no, she calls Chase

(And I love that call. "You doing anything?" "Oh, yeah, I'm just about to go out," Chase lies blatantly, asleep in bed with a book on the crusades on his chest. Like the loser he is. I don't know that it was done well but I love how S7 examines his Dumb Whore tendencies: it isn't really him, it's a rebound. He does it again when he gets stabbed.)

And of course the second he shows up he immediately sees through 13's excuses and pushes his way into the apartment. Because we love Chase's observation skills triumphing over his laziness.

13 tells Chase the prison backstory. Like! It's kind of glossed over. She hasn't told this to anyone else. She doesn't hide it. I killed my brother. It wasn't murder. Chase is just pacing, you just know he's twigged as hell, he's so anxious all at once as she tries to brush past it. The idea that 13 kind of had to tell him to explain Darrien's presence but she's also — House is the only other person who knows.

CHASE: Have you talked to anybody about it? I mean, are you okay?

Like we know this immediately triggered something in Chase, but 13 doesn't, and seeing him so anxious and pacing and ignoring the bleeding dying woman as 13 works, it's just. Incredible. It's good. He cares immediately, he's relating to this immediately.

But I love seeing them work together. Like they just immediately go in sync, Chase offering suggestions and 13 doing the work. They're just. It's nice.

SIDE NOTE: House says he called everyone before he called Cuddy. We see him call 13 and Taub. Chase is off picking up drugs, we don't see House call him, but like. He had to have called Chase first, right? Did Chase not pick up? Did he blow him off because he already was dealing with someone bleeding to death in someone's apartment??

The way they fight oh my god. The way 13 just is trying to fucking murder Chase. She punches him, she claws and shoves him, and then he just clocks her and stares horrified as she falls to the floor. Like it's an actual fight, it's brutal, it's so good. They hurt one another. I can't explain it but I love how brutal it is, that they both walk away with bruises, that it isn't pretty. Incredible. Amazing scene.

CHASE: You were defending your friend beyond all rationality, granting her the right to die in your bedroom. Was it really all because of a promise? 13: That word means something to some people. CHASE: Not that much. […] CHASE: You promised your brother you'd euthanize him and you think you won't feel bad about it as long as you can blame it on the promise. That's why you have this twisted obligation to keep all promises… or your carefully constructed defense mechanism could crumble down. 13: I saved my brother from a lot of pain.

!! Chase keeps bringing it up, he keeps bringing up her brother, not out of I can't believe you did a murder or I can't believe you went to prison but: you must hate yourself. He's calling her out on her coping mechanisms, he's calling her out on her guilt, and it's so fucking clear what he means is I get it but he's not saying that part. 13 killed her brother and now has to believe she did the right thing, no matter what, no matter how she feels. She's taking away her own agency: it was for a promise, it was his decision, she had nothing to do with it, it's fine, it doesn't feel bad. Chase killed Dibala and told himself it was for the greater good, it was morally just, it was the right thing to do, it doesn't feel bad. And it nearly destroyed him. And so he's pushing and pushing at it. He never goes 13 went to prison! he never goes it's so crazy you did that! Whenever he brings it up it's only in the context of how worried he is about her. Has she spoken to someone? Is she coping? Is this healthy? Is she okay? He's so worried. He cares so much.

I adore 13 and Chase running out of ideas with Darrien and calling dad. Most sibling coded of all time. Just. And the fact that House doesn't allude to also being in the hospital, actively bleeding and in pain, just, yes, we gotta help bail you two idiots out. Beautiful moment.

Chase getting 13 ice and coffee and still feeling guilty for punching her out, and 13 not blaming him at all. Like. You know. Don't beat people up. But in this one case I totally approve. Because I love it.

13: Darrien had to shoot that kid. It was the right thing. Completely justified. But it didn't matter. She destroyed her life trying to forget. I'm afraid that's what's gonna happen to me. CHASE: You really should talk to someone. 13: I've talked to a therapist. It didn't help. CHASE: Well, maybe you should talk to someone who isn't a therapist. 13: Do you really think you have any idea what it's like to live with something like this? CHASE: Let's grab a coffee.

Since the second Chase found out, this is what it's been leading towards. I love that he doesn't answer, he doesn't say a thing, but this is what he's been thinking all episode, why he's been pushing, why he's been so worried and caring: talk to me. Tell me you're not okay. Tell me everything isn't fine. And 13 holds it back until the end of the case, until it's over and she has no distractions. It's not at all clear Chase himself has talked to someone about Dibala, btw. He probably hasn't.

And how insane is that. He never told Foreman or House; they figured it out. He told Cameron: she left him. (Imagine being 13, hearing this. Realizing the timeline. She went to their wedding. What did she think happened when Cameron just … left? How quickly does she figure it out now?) House told Chase to talk to someone, Chase tried Confessing, but whenever he's tried to tell anyone it's gone terribly for him. I don't think he has talked to anyone. But he repeats House's advice to 13: talk to someone. (Talk to me.) He's offering her what he never got. And their situations are different, hers is much more sympathetic and easy to accept than his. Chase never goes I never got help or you have nothing to feel bad about or implies he doesn't think it's a big deal: his entire reaction is just empathy. He wants 13 to get what he didn't get, he wants to help.

The song that plays over the end of the episode is Bon Iver's Flume. And as much as you can apply it to House, and Cuddy, and Wilson, and all of that — it's a song about feeling isolated, feeling alone and being afraid of letting go. Of holding on to things that stain and hurt. The lyrics that play while 13 and Chase are having their coffee in the conference room, though:

i wear my garment/so it shows now you know

And I just! I love! Them! The ways 13 and Chase are so alike and so damaged, the way Chase reacts with empathy and care and wants her to have what he didn't, the way they know one another's secrets and worst moments and rely on one another so easily. 13's secrecy is a meme, in and out of universe, but Chase is absolutely no better: he won't even admit he's Catholic when talking to a nun. They're private to faults, they mask by sleeping around and taking risks and pretending not to care, they hide their hurts and then somehow, they punch one another in the face and know everything. I'm just. I'm so obsessed with them. I want them like this always.

[magicalqueennightmare]

Things Change

Daryl Dixon x Reader

This started as a drabble about Daryl wanting to know where the rest of your tattoos are....it became this. Enjoy

Warnings: Violence, cursing, slightly suggestive at the end

"Flirtationship" that's what Maggie called whatever was between you and Daryl. You weren't sure what to call it. One minute it seemed like he was near admitting something then he'd shut back down. You knew you were friends but then there were times he'd get jealous when some of the transplants from Woodsbury would talk to you too long or get a little snippy if you went on a run with someone else. You knew one thing for certain, you weren't breaking first.

You slowly walked through the abandoned store, careful of every step you took. Michonne was two aisles over and Daryl was somewhere under the same roof. So far the three of you had gotten lucky, only two walkers had been hiding within the shadows of the old Piggly Wiggly.

This run had gone pretty well. You'd worked on the supply list for Hershel and had picked up pretty much everything actually.

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

You made it to the end of the aisle and Michonne stood there with a mischievous looking grin and her hand behind her back "What ya got?" You asked and she pulled her hand out to reveal two protein bars "The last two peanut butter ones"

You took one with a little giggle of delight. As the two of you tore into the treats you heard Daryl's footsteps behind you before he said "You sound like a damn chipmunk girl" you glanced over your shoulder at him "Don't be mad cause you didn't get one"

He stepped up close enough his chest was tight against your back. With one hand on your hip he leaned down and whispered in your ear "I could always do this" and before you could ask what he'd reached around you with his other hand and snapped a piece of the protein bar off and popped it into his mouth.

You gasped dramatically "Daryl Dixon! Stealing from a helpless woman" he shook his head "Woman, yeah. Helpless? hell no, you ain't.

Michonne shook her head and laughed "Did both of you finish your lists?" You nodded and Daryl did too so She waved towards the door "Lets get back"

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

The three of you walked together back towards the front of the store and passed a still intact magazine rack. You stopped to examine a tattoo one.

As you flipped through Michonne leaned over your shoulder looking as well. "There's some nice ink in here" you commented and she shrugged "I like your tattoos myself" Daryl looked from you to her "The rose on her arm?"

Michonne cut her eyes at you, a slight smirk working its way onto her face then shook her head "No, her other ones" "Other ones?" Daryl asked with a raised eyebrow so you tossed the magazine down and quickly changed the subject to needing to get back to the prison before everyone started worrying about the three of you.

You didn't miss how Daryl's eyes flicked across your body like he was trying to figure out where you were hiding the other tattoos, causing a trail of heat to raise across your skin as if his touch had followed his eyes but eventually he nodded "Yeah, let's get going"

A few days later you were helping Carol cook in the center of the yard and felt more than heard someone walk up behind you even before a smile worked its way onto her face. "Hey Daryl" you spoke without turning around.

She looked a little more than amused because you'd told her about the whole him questioning the location of your other tattoos thing. He bumped your shoulder with his "Wanna get out the fence for a while? Was gonna go hunt"

You cut your eyes at Carol and she nodded "I've got it covered" you turned your head slightly to look at Daryl who was standing close enough to your back he was nearly touching you "I'm gonna go grab my bow and my gun. Meet ya at the gate?" He nodded so you turned to walk off.

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

Daryl watched you walk away then looked back at Carol who was watching him with a grin. "What?" She shook her head "Nothing. You're kinda obvious though"

"About what?" She shook her head again and went back to turning the food. He stood there for a minute and considered just walking off but ever since you and Michonne had mentioned your other tattoos the thought hadn't left his mind just where those other tattoos were. He shouldn't he thinking this hard about it.

"Carol.." he started but she cut him off "Yes, I know where all her tattoos are. No, I'm not telling you. And the thing you're obvious about is that you're head over heels for her and can't figure out how to approach it. She won't bite, well i mean she might if you ask her to"

"I didn't...I'm not..." he stammered, feeling his face warm but about that time he heard your voice echo across the yard "DAMMIT DIXON. DON'T KEEP A WOMAN WAITING"

Carol looked back at him and started laughing at the look on his face "Go catch up with her. You and me both know she'll go out on her own" "Yeah, I'll catch ya later" he mumbled before heading towards the gate where you stood with your bow over your shoulder.

So far the only thing you and Daryl had managed was a half dozen squirrels, two rabbits and to kill four walkers.

You were walking shoulder to shoulder with him, careful of every step to avoid unnecessary noise. You could feel his eyes on you every now and then but assumed it was the usual "making sure you're walking right" watching.

"Think we'll luck out and find bigger game or should we just try finding a few more rabbits then head back?" You asked, turning to face him and nearly ran right into his chest.

His bow was in his right hand so his left went to your hip to steady your footing "We can make another loop to check for deer tracks" he answered and you nodded slowly, a little too focused on how tightly his hand was gripping you and on how fast your heart had started beating when he'd grabbed you there.

You took a step back making his hand fall away, readjusting your own bow in your grip "Yeah. Let's get on it"

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

He hadn't missed the way your eyes had got wider when he'd grabbed your hip so your footing wouldn't slide. This thing between the two of you was getting harder to deny.

You took a few steps ahead of him then looked back "ya coming?" He nodded "Yeah, I'm coming" the two of you continued your way through the woods, looking for any movement that could bring meat to the prison.

There was one particular transplant from Woodsbury that was on very thin ìce with Rick. Like one complaint and you were fairly certain he'd catch a bullet and get thrown to the walkers at the gate.

Francis Martin. He was a lawyer pre fall and apparently still considered himself better than other people. Even Hershel wasn't too particularly fond of him. What was worse? He was misogynistic as hell.

He couldn't understand why Rick had so many women in the group that he trusted and respected the way he did you, Michonne, Maggie and Carol. Beth was luckily still young enough to be under his radar a bit.

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

You and Maggie were working with a few of the women from Woodsbury. Some of them had no knowledge of self defense or basic weapon training so you were doing what you could.

Glenn had of course volunteered if the two of you needed someone to show how to fight with. He was slightly taller than Maggie and had a few inches on you.

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

You were showing one woman how to tuck her hand to throw a punch when you heard someone laugh and looked up to see Francis leaned against the wall watching. "Something funny Martin?" He waved a hand around "This"

You saw Glenn out the corner of your eye and shook your head slightly. As much as you loved Glenn for being protective you didn't need a man coming to your rescue because he'd never back off. You took a step towards Francis "What's funny about it? Your governor never taught them self defense or weapons training. We're trying to help them have a chance at surviving"

He pushed off the wall and took a step towards you "Women teaching women survival. It's a joke honey" you felt yourself bristle at him calling you honey. "I haven't seen you lift a damn finger to help anything. You haven't taken a guard shift, haven't helped the farming section, you damn sure don't hunt. You don't clean the kills. You don't cook. You don't help with laundry. You don't help with the water supply. You don't help with the solar panels we scavenged. What do you do?"

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

You could feel a crowd growing and knew Glenn had more than likely summoned Rick or went in search of him but you weren't taking your eyes off the sorry excuse for a man in front of you. "And you do so much? I always see you hanging off Dixon" he spat and without thinking you swung, connecting a solid punch to his jaw. He staggered a bit then spit out a mouthful of blood "You're gonna regret that you little bitch"

"Make me regret it" He recovered and swung, landing a punch to your jaw. It was a solid hit but not hard. You'd been hit a helluva lot harder. You spit the little blood it caused from your teeth slicing your lip out "That was weak"

You kicked out and it connected with his knee. He went down and you started to walk off but heard one of the women Alice scream for you to watch out. You side stepped the knife in enough time it just barely grazed your arm.

You jumped back out of his arm's reach, a shocked laugh escaping you "A fucking knife? Really" you heard Rick's voice but didn't move your eyes off the threat. "RICK, THIS FUCKING MANIAC IS TRYING TO KILL ME"

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

Rick appeared over your shoulder "Francis put the knife down and you might walk away from this" "Not before I kill that bitch" Francis seemed like he was fucking possessed, the fragility of the male ego mixed with the stress of the apocalypse?

"Fair enough" you heard Daryl's voice right before a crossbow bolt landed dead center of Francis' left eye.

He dropped like a rock. Rick grabbed your shoulder and turned you to face him "Are you ok?" You nodded "I'm fine" his eyes raked across your body before landing on your bleeding arm "He cut you" you shook your head "Barely a graze"

He leveled you with a look so you sighed "I'll go see Hershel" he nodded "Good girl" then looked around "It's getting late. Everyone head inside. Me and Daryl will clean up"

You cut your eyes at Daryl who looked from your split lip to your arm. "You good?" You nodded "Asshole just caught me off guard with the knife and trying to make sure he didn't hurt anyone else"

Rick nodded "We need to reevaluate everyone from Woodsbury" you shook your head "he was the only weakling. It's solid now" both men studied you for a moment then nodded "Go get stitched up then head to bed" Rick said and you nodded "Yes sir" then headed inside.

Once you headed inside Rick looked at Daryl "Are you good?" "Yeah" Daryl answered quickly but Rick wasn't buying it that easily. He'd seen the anger in his friend's eyes when Francis had threatened you, mixed with how little hesitation he'd had with putting him down with the entire yard filled with people.

Rick studied him for moment before speaking again "I missed it too. I'm just as guilty for her getting hurt" when Daryl didn't say anything he added "Why don't you go talk to her when we get through here?"

Daryl finally looked up at that, "About what?" Rick raised an eyebrow "You didn't hesitate. Nothing would've stopped you from putting him down. Not because he was dangerous to everyone here but because he was threat to her directly. That means something. I think it's time you two figure out what"

Daryl just grunted in reply before kicking Francis' body "Lets get this asshole out"

You finally made it into your cell and collapsed across the cot. Your mind was going a little too much for your liking.

After you'd gotten cleaned up you'd made your way to Hershel for stitches. While you'd been sitting on top of the table in the main area people had started trickling in. First it was your group. Carl and Beth with Judith in tow. Then Michonne and Carol, ever the protectors they were. Then came Glenn and Maggie.

Your group hadn't affected you. You were family which meant you were used to all of you checking on each other if an injury happened.

What bothered you was the Woodsbury women. The ones who talked about Francis. How uncomfortable he'd made them. Comments and actions you hadn't noticed. You shouldn't shoulder the burden alone, it was the apocalypse but you felt responsible because like it or not too much of your attention had been on Daryl and the question of what were the two of you.

The guilt of if Francis had hurt someone was unbearable. You knew you had to talk to Daryl, lay your cards on the table and let them fall where they may but that didn't mean you had to like it.

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

You were half asleep when you heard a light tap on the bars. Your eyes flew open and your knife was in your hand before your brain caught up completely.

You recognized the shadow outside your cell immediately and relaxed, leaning up to lay your knife on the top bunk "Come in Daryl" you said it loud enough he could hear you but still low enough to not disturb anyone else.

He pushed the door of your cell open then pushed past the orange shower curtain you'd scavenged a while back for privacy. He pulled the cell door closed behind him then leaned against the wall just inside the door.

"How ya feeling?" He asked, eyes going to your arm where it still rested half across your face. You ran a finger down the bandage "Ten stitches. Hershel gave me the usual aftercare of keep em as clean as possible, change my bandages and when to take em out"

He nodded slowly as you sat up then scooted back so your back was against the wall then you patted the bed next to you "Cmon Dixon. Sit down" he laid his crossbow down next to your bow then sat down next to you, ducking his head.

Once he was through moving around in a bid to get comfortable you saw his hand reach out for your injured arm so you let him take it. His fingers lightly grazed the bandage "You kicked his ass even before I showed up" you laughed lightly despite the guilt you felt and leaned your head over on his shoulder "Yeah, thanks for that by the way" he nodded, "I got your back. Always"

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

After a moment he tucked you under his chin and you wanted nothing more than to curl up against him and ignore the guilt, the conversation that needed to happen but you couldn't.

"Daryl, he'd been harassing the Woodbury women. Worse than I realized" "That ain't your fault" he offered but you shook your head "I've been distracted"

He pulled back to look down at you "You ain't never gotten distracted easy" you stared at him for a moment then felt the tips of your ears warm. Was he that oblivious?

"Hell I only swung first because he said all I do is hang off you" at that Daryl laughed "Carol says I follow you around" you laughed lightly. His hand came up to brush your hair back from your face and your heart flipped in your chest. "You take care of everyone you can as much as you can. Don't feel guilt for what that asshole did"

You swallowed hard then smiled "I'll try not to" you hadn't realized you'd been staring into each other's eyes until Daryl shook his head and looked away "Ya want me to let you get some sleep?" "No" you replied without thinking and it was nearly comical how fast his eyes came back to yours.

You shrugged "I like being around you. I feel comfortable and safe" he nodded and you thought that was all would be said until he asked "That all it is?" And you were stunned with the forwardness from Daryl of all people "No, it's not" you admitted and he smiled "Good. Cause that's not all it is for me either"

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

You laughed and started to lay your head back over before a thought occurred to you, "Still curious about the tattoos?" His smile turned into a smirk "Yeah?"

You climbed off the cot, Daryl watching you carefully. You took your boots off and set them next to the bed and when you unzipped your jeans, the look in his eyes made your stomach do that little flutter thing. You slid your jeans down off your hips and laid them on the top bunk leaving you in just your panties and tshirt.

You were nervous because you liked Daryl. He was one of your closest friends and how you felt about him well honestly you were fairly certain you hadn't ever had feelings like that for anyone even before the world ended. You weren't a blushing virgin either though.

He was quiet for a moment then moved up to the edge of the cot and held a hand out. You took his hand and he used it to pull you to him "Can I?" He asked and you nodded.

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

Daryl watched as you slipped your jeans off, the moment your legs were free of the denim the ink came into view. It started at your hip and ran down the full length of your right leg down to your ankle, twisting and turning. Vines, roses and different flowers decorated your skin along with a few other designs hidden that blended in.

It was gorgeous and fit you well. He moved up to the edge of the cot and reached a hand for you, hoping like hell you'd take it and when you did he pulled you to him. "Can I?" He asked, nodding towards your leg and you nodded so he leaned forward letting his fingers trace across the patterns inked into your skin "Why ya been hiding this?"

"Even in the Georgia heat shorts aren't really practical" you replied, resting your hands on his shoulders as he explored the tattoo further. When his thumb brushed a little higher on your thigh a light sigh escaped you and he grinned to himself. Did he really have that effect on you?

He looked up at you and you smiled "Whend ya get em?" "Eighteenth birthday. Got in a pretty bad wreck at fifteen. Dad was driving and walked away without a scratch. I had four surgeries and pins in my leg which left lots of scars. He felt like shit because he ran a red"

He nodded slowly, fingers still trailing across your leg "Looks good" you smiled again "Thank you" he leaned forward and let his lips just barely brush against the rose that was on the bend on your hip, nearly hidden under your panty line and you sucked in a harsh breath "Daryl"

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

You knew he was doing it on purpose when he looked up at you "Somethin wrong?" "So we're doing this? Us?" You asked and he nodded "If you want it, I do" you sucked your bottom lip into your mouth chewing on it and saw the look in his eyes. He was as turned on as you were. "We'll have to be quiet"

He grinned "We can try but the kids are upstairs at least" you started to roll your eyes but he leaned up to press another kiss to your leg, this one a little higher and you gasped "Damn you Daryl" he laughed against your skin "You can cuss me all you want woman as long as you keep saying my name like that"

[redrose10]

#5 from the picture game

Warnings: Swearing, mention of suggestive stuff, maybe cheating

Thanks for the request!

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

“I hate him! I hate him! I hate him.”, you shrieked throughout your small apartment after throwing your bag down on the floor. Your roommate, Sarah, concerned with all the commotion came walking out to see what was going on with you.

“Bad day?”, she questioned.

“Min Fucking Yoongi.”, you spat.

She sighed, “What did he do now?”

“Alright class, you’re going to work in small groups of two or three for this project. Pair up on your own and I’ll send around the sign up sheet for you to write down your names. Remember this project will count for 80% of your grade so it’s kind of a big deal and shouldn’t be taken lightly.”

You scanned around the room making eye contact with Namjoon. He nodded before getting up and making his way over to you. You felt relief that you would be working with not only one of the smartest guys in the school but also someone who was respectful and reliable. For some reason this school seems to have attracted every arrogant fuckboy within a 500 mile radius and you hated it.

Namjoon took a seat next to you but before he could speak someone else cleared their throat.

The leader of said fuckboys was standing right in front of you like you had summoned him by thinking too much about him. You bit your lip so hard you tasted blood.

“Hey Yoongi! Want to join our group?”, Namjoon happily asked oblivious to the tension in the air.

“He can’t. He’s already working with Tia.”, you gritted through your teeth. You knew she was a regular of Yoongi’s. Yoongi looked over at the woman who was trying to look seductive but looked more like she was in pain than anything.

“Nah we’re kind of going through a thing right now.”

Namjoon chuckled, “I get it man. You can work with Y/N and I. It’s not problem.”

Yoongi took a seat and pretended to listen to Namjoon as he came up with a game plan while you sat there and stewed in your anger. You knew Yoongi wasn’t going to lift a finger while you and Namjoon did everything yet he’d still be given a good grade.

Before you knew it class was over and Namjoon said his goodbyes before quickly running off to his next one.

You were angrily packing up your bag when you heard Yoongi speak.

“Y/N are you not going to speak to me this entire project? We have to work together.”, he asked.

You scoffed, “No we don’t. You and I both know you’re going to flake and it’ll be all on Namjoon and I to do all the work so why don’t you just do us a favor and get lost already.”

Yoongi stood up and leaned slightly over your desk, “Maybe you should get laid for once. You need to get some of that bitchiness fucked out of you.”

And with that he was gone and out the door leaving you red faced and so angry you couldn’t think straight for the rest of the day even once you finally walked through your front door.

Sarah chuckled only infuriating you more. “Y/N I get it. Yeah that was a really shitty thing to say but you do always seem to be the one to start things with him. Maybe him and Tia really are going through something and you two were the only option to work with. I just don’t know why you have this extreme hatred for the guy.”, she said after seeing your upset face.

You rolled your eyes before heading to your room and flopping down on your bed.

Was Sarah right? Are you the instigator? And if you are then you’re sure that he deserved it 99% of the time anyways.

Ever since the first day you met him he has been a thorn in your side.

You met Yoongi in Kindergarten. He sat behind you and would constantly pull on your ponytail and when you turned around he’d just sit there with a big smile. You complained to your parents who told you he probably just had a crush on you but that you should ask him to stop if you didn’t want him to do that any more.

Then in the fifth grade he was playing basketball at recess. He tried passing the ball to someone else but instead it came flying at your face breaking your nose. He was at your side in an instant using his jacket to stop the bleeding. He apologized profusely saying it was an accident but you’re sure he did it on purpose.

Your freshman year of high school he overheard that you had a huge crush on a boy named Jin. He was a year older than you and so handsome and funny. You thought maybe he liked you too until he started distancing himself. You found out a couple months later that Yoongi had told him that you had some incurable contagious skin condition.

Somehow though over the next couple years you had grown fond of Yoongi, even developing feelings for him. He had matured and was pleasant to be around. You were ecstatic when he asked you to be his date to the senior prom. The night had been going well and you really thought you were going to share your first kiss with him. The dj announced it was time for the last dance when you realized Yoongi was taking a really long time in the bathroom. Walking the halls looking for him you found him pushed up against the lockers with Mia, the prom queen, sticking her tongue practically down his throat. You ran out of the dance that night ignoring the shouts of your name coming from Yoongi who was chasing after you.

While walking home with a broken heart you made yourself a promise that you would never let Min Yoongi hurt you ever again. So much so that you ignored any contact he tried to make with you even finally going to his parents when he didn’t get the hint.

In college you tried your best to avoid him. The first year was easy. You had different majors and different friend groups. Then Sarah started dating one of his best friends Hoseok leading to there being lots of time spent together. You watched as he often left the hangouts with some random woman he met. You’d always roll your eyes realizing he never changed. He always had something to say to you or about you too. His little comments here and there to purposely get under your skin only added to your irritation.

Maybe that’s why your first emotion around him now is always anger.

Thankfully your emotional day helped you swiftly fall into dreamland and stop thinking about him.

“Y/N, let’s go!!”,Sarah shouted from behind your door.

“Be right there.”

You took one final look at your outfit. Your dress was a little tighter than normal but you were hoping to get the attention of this guy you met on campus, Taehyung. You weren’t really into going to parties but you were in a pretty good mood since Yoongi had skipped class all week as expected of him and once Taehyung asked you if you were going to be at this party you were quick to agree.

The smell of alcohol and sweat and just dirty funk quickly hit your senses. You’d think they could’ve sprung for a couple $1 air fresheners but what could you expect from a bunch of college guys.

Once further into the home you were able to easily spot Taehyung. He walked over with two bottles of beer. One was still sealed which he cracked open for you. You appreciated his thoughtfulness.

You were really starting to like Tae, as he told you to call him. He was funny, gentle, dangerously handsome. You could see yourself having a future with him. He went off to get you another beer when you felt someone’s glare on you.

Yoongi was also at the party. You should’ve known. It was a perfect spot for him to prey on some woman who was too buzzed to care. He was leaning up against the wall, head slightly cocked while looking at you. He was wearing a black hoodie that fit him perfectly, rings adorned his long fingers, that stupid headband he’d been into wearing recently. You hated him but you hated it more that he still had an effect on you because you couldn’t stop thinking about how good he looked.

He smirked when he noticed you staring at him. Your body only heated up more when you noticed him looking you up and down.

“Y/N…I didn’t think parties were your thing.”, he said after walking over.

“Well I’m here with someone else. Not that it’s any of your business.”

“Uh yeah I saw that you were here with Taehyung. You should really think twice about him.”

You rolled your eyes, “Then why don’t you do something to ruin it for me Yoongi? That seems to be what you’re best at.”

Thanks to the darkness of the party you didn’t see his confidence falter a little at your words.

“Look Y/N I don’t give a fuck what you do. I’m just saying maybe don’t get too hung up on him.”

He left and walked past you into the kitchen leaving you feeling uneasy but Tae showed up just in time with another beer to take your mind off of him.

Two hours later, eight beers, and countless songs danced to you were needing some air. It had been a long time since you were this buzzed. Sarah was long gone with her date so it looked like you were going to get your wish of going home with Taehyung.

He walked you outside to sit on a bench underneath a big oak tree on the property.

“You alright?”, he chuckled after you let out a long sigh.

“Yeah just tired.”

Taehyung remained silent as you took in the night sky. For some reason that you hated, Yoongi was heavily on your mind. You figured that by now he was probably on his second hookup of the night which only hurt you more making your stomach just a little more nauseous.

“Hey uh Y/N can I ask you something?”, Taehyung spoke from next to you.

Your body woke up with excitement.

“Of course.”, you nodded.

“Your friend Sarah…Is she…Is she seeing anyone?”

You stared at him in disbelief. He wasn’t interested in you at all. The whole reason he asked you to the party was to get the details on your friend.

Feeling like you were going to cry or throw up, maybe both you stood up to begin walking home.

“Let me get you home safe.”, Taehyung said reaching for your hand.

You tried to pull away but a third hand grabbed yours first instead.

“No thanks. I’ve got her.”, a familiar voice broke the silence.

Yoongi was already leading you to his car before you could even protest.

He helped you into your apartment and to your bed. He’d been there several times when Hoseok and Sarah were dating so he knew his way around.

You were broken hearted once again and nauseous and exhausted and just didn’t have the strength to fight him any more.

You told yourself you were definitely never drinking again especially after the last thing you remembered being you asking Yoongi to stay and lay with you for a while.

And thankfully you remembered asking him that because if you hadn’t you probably would’ve woken up half the city with your screaming when you woke up and saw him peacefully sleeping next to you. You tried your best to get out of bed without him noticing but it didn’t go as planned.

When he woke up he looked even more shocked than you did. He jumped out of bed only to land awkwardly on some books which caused him to slip and end up on the floor with a loud thud. You stifled a giggle as he hastily got himself up again.

“Fuck Y/N I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to fall asleep. Nothing happened. I swear I didn’t try to pull anything funny. You were crying and you asked me to stay and I felt bad. I was only gonna stay until you fell asleep but I must’ve dozed off myself. It’s these classes are killing me and I’m working two jobs and I’m just exhausted.”

“Yoongi it’s okay. I remember asking you to stay. It was an accident.”, you said trying to calm him down.

He looked at you wearily, “Are you feeling okay? The Y/N that I know would’ve already threaten to chop my balls off and shove them down my throat.”

You chuckled, “Yeah well this Y/N, is pretty hungover so I’m gonna let it go this time.”

He relaxed a little and sat back down on your end which did annoy you a little but you let it slide because the prior nights events were slowly coming back to you and you had some questions.

“Hey Yoongi, did you know that Taehyung only asked me to the party so he could ask about Sarah?”

He slid his tongue over his teeth. A habit of his he did when he was nervous. He nodded, “Uh yeah. He mentioned something about it to Jimin and then it got back to me.”

“So is that why you tried to get me to stop talking to him?”

He nodded.

“Why?”

“What do you mean why?”

You scoffed? “Well you kind of have a history of hurting me more than helping me so I’m just wondering why all of a sudden you cared enough to try and stop me from getting hurt?”

Yoongi turned to stare at you. His face flushing, either from anger or embarrassment, you weren’t really sure.

He sat fidgeting with his rings for a moment before looking at you, “Y/N…that night…that night at the prom. I didn’t kiss that girl.”, he paused, “I had written you a song. It was stupid and cheesy actually…”, he chuckled, “I forgot it in my locker so I told you that I had to go to the bathroom so I could go get it. Mia came up to me. She knew I liked you and she always hated it. She said it was the last dance and you were looking for me. I tried to push past her but as soon as I did she pushed me against the locker and kissed me. She knew you were standing there. She wanted you to see. I chased after you but you wouldn’t stop. I stopped shouting your name but I followed you home to make sure you got there safely.”, he shook his head, “You never answered any of my texts or calls. I even did dumb shit like leaving notes in your locker. Then my parents told me that I needed to back off before I got in trouble so I let you go. I guess I was childish and built some resent towards you. I’ve liked you ever since kindergarten when I used to pull on your ponytail with that ridiculous Minnie Mouse clip you always used to wear. And you just completely cut me off without letting me explain. I was hurt and started acting out towards you.”, he sighed, “I’m sorry Y/N. For all the messed up stuff I’ve said to you. I didn’t mean any of it. I guess I…I guess I just wanted to push you away from me. The further you were the less I remembered about how I broke your heart and how I never even got the chance.”

You stared at him in disbelief.

“So all this time you liked me?”

He nodded.

“Is that why you told Jin I had a contagious disease? Because you knew we liked each other?”

He chuckled at that, “Yeah I did. I was a little bit jealous and come on Y/N, you knew you could do better than him. He was more beauty than brains. I mean I told him you had stage 4 Cootie-Cockilus and he believed me…”

Laughter erupted in the room.

“Okay maybe that one helped me more than I thought.”, you laughed.

The room fell back into an awkward yet comfortable silence.

“Y/N, can we start over…please.”, Yoongi suddenly asked.

Bitingng your lip in thought you finally nodded in agreement, “Yeah I’d like that.”

“Alright well let’s get some breakfast then. I know a great cafe just outside of campus.”, he said motioning for you to follow him.

You grabbed your bag and walked in front of him.

Just before your hand reached the door handle you felt a tiny little tug on the end of your ponytail.

Your heart skipped a beat making you stop.

The biggest gummy smile greeted you when you turned around to playfully eye culprit.

[m1njeongluvr]

best prom night ever!!

- Alittle angst 😓 mostly fluff tho

A/n : Really bad pls i hate it sm 💔 the first and last time i ever write because i have 0 experience with writing so bear with me now 😭

Pairing: Winter (Aespa) x fem!Y/N

Warning: really cringe

Requested: @pandoraha

It was a school day. You were just casually walking with your friends Yuna and Chaewon. They were talking about some nonsense. Clothes and fashion or whatever you truly didn't pay attention. All that was on your mind was your girlfriend Minjeong.

She didn't show up to school these past few days and ignored your texts so as anyone would do you were worried about her. You stopped zoning out when someone pushed you slightly with their elbow. It was Yuna. "Y/N! Did you hear anything i said?" You were confused. You didn't pay attention at all. "Sorry what did we talk about?" Yuna sighed. "Do you have any plans for prom? Anyone to go with?" Right. Prom was coming up. Chaewon was going with Yunjin and Yuna was going with Chaeryeong and you.. well you had nobody to go with because Minjeong was ignoring you.

"Not really.." you muttered. "Why don't you ask Soobin? He showed alot of interest in you and asked you multiple times" Chaewon looked at Soobin across the hall talking with some randoms. "Sorry Chae i am.. not really interested." They didn't know you were going out with Minjeong.

The bell rings and you wave to your friends then go to your last class for today. It wasn't that interesting to be honest you just learned about some topics that you truly didn't care about. The class soon ends and you step out of the classroom. The sun cuts thru the hallways, slightly blinding your vision. You just can't shake off the feeling that there is something wrong with Minjeong. It's not like she can just dissapear without a word given the fact that you guys talk everyday.

As you walk home your phone buzzes. You take it out of your pocket and open the notification. Kinda expecting your loved girlfriend to respond to your messages. You sigh when you find out that it was just your friends talking about the prom theme.

You open the door to your apartmant and toss your bag somewhere else. You grab a snack and sit on your bed. It became a slight routine for you.

You turn on the tv to distract yourself but you just can't stop thinking about your girlfriend. Why won't she answer? Why wasn't she in school? You grab your phone and write a text to minjeong. "Hey mj. Just wanted to check up on you. What happened? Where are you? Why weren't you at school?" You sigh when you see another message being left on delievered. You toss your phone next to you and cover your face with your hands. A thought came into your mind. What if you ask her to meet up? Minjeong really likes going out especially with you so it wouldn't hurt to try. "Would you like to meet up? We can go to the park and just talk about things.." you hit send and go to bed.

The next day slowly rolls in and the minutes pass by like hours. The last bell rings and you run to your car. You get to the car and go to your favorite place to be with your favorite person. You scan around to see if her familiar figure has appeared. You spot her at a bench and sit next to her.

"Hey.." you say softly. "Hey," she replies quietly, almost like a whisper, "how have you been?" she continues. "Good i guess. What about you?" You question, looking at her hands that were playing with the strings of her hoodie. "Just... family and stuff" you nod. "You know that we are dating right? You can tell me anything that comes to your mind.. I may not have the best advice but i am willing to listen."

She looks at you and smiles. "Thank you.. I haven’t been handling things well. There’s this pressure to keep up with grades and everyone expects so much from me... But I don’t even know what I want for myself.. It's really hard you know.?"

You feel a pang in your chest. “You don’t have to have everything figured out right now. It’s okay to take your time.” Minjeong chuckles softly, but it’s tinged with sadness. “I guess it’s hard to remember that when everyone else seems so certain. And then there’s you…” She pauses, a hint of a smile breaking through the heaviness. “You seem to have everything under control. I didn’t want to drag you down with my problems.”

“Minjeong…” you begin, but she holds up a hand, stopping you.

“It’s just… I didn’t want you to see me like this. I felt so alone.” Her voice cracks, and you feel your heart ache even more. “I didn’t even answer your texts because I thought you’d get tired of me. I didn’t want to make you worry. You mean alot to me so i want you to be happy."

You scoot closer, placing a hand gently on her back. "You could never be a burden to me. I care about you too much for that." The sincerity in your voice seems to resonate, and you watch her expression soften.

"Honestly, it felt nice to be missed," she admits, her voice suddenly steadier. "I thought maybe you'd forget about me if I disappeared for a while."

"Forget about you?" You laugh lightly, trying to cut through the tension. "That's impossible. You mean too much to me."

A small smile breaks through her worry-the first genuine expression you've seen from her in days. "Really?"

"Really," you confirm, your voice earnest. "You're not just my girlfriend; you're my best friend. And I want to support you through whatever you're going through."

The light of the setting sun casts a warm glow, bathing you both in a soft embrace. If you could bottle this moment, you'd keep it forever. It feels like the weight of the world is beginning to lift, and with it, a renewed sense of hope.

As you sit in comfortable silence you decide to get alittle bold. You kiss her softly on the lips. Minjeong seemed suprised but kissed back. "Gosh i missed you." Minjeong laughes at your comment and pats your head. "I missed you too my love."

You hug it out and get up. "One last thing before we leave.." Minjeong looks at you "what is it?" You take a slight deep breath and say "Well would you like to go to prom with me? You know.. to get your mind off of things? It will be our chance to just enjoy ourselves... no pressure just us being together."

Minjeong slightly chuckles and smiles at you. "Yes of course i would love to go to prom with you. I could really use some fun now." You smile happily and hug her again. "It's a date then! I will make it the best prom you have ever been to!" You claim. Minjeong just smiles at you, falling inlove with you even harder than before.

You pay your goodbyes and walk home. It's gonna be an amazing week after all.

[loves-77]

You Are My Honey

*TW* Yandere, obsessive tones, mates, Bear hybrid, NOT PROOFREAD (Tell me if you notice anymore)

THIS IS MY FIRST STORY I HAVE EVER WRITTEN SO IGNORE ANY MISTAKES, I AM STILL TRYING TO FIND MY PERFERED WRITING STYLE!

TELL ME IF YOU WANT A SMUT PART 2!!

*One part of my story is inspired by a scene in another story I read, don't remember the author*

*Not My Picture*

What had the world become? You sit alone on your couch in a small little apartment you could barely afford, for what? To get up in the morning go to your job at the floral shop and make a couple bucks a day?? All alone because you don't have time to invest in a romance that would probably end after a month, because who would want to be with a 'workaholic' who only has time to stay at their job. All your friends got some husband or boyfriend or...... mate.

The subject of 'mates' confused you, hybrids are just now being accepted into society and now are 'mating' on people. With how many hybrids are finding their mates the government is passing a law allowing them to be with said mates. The thought scared you, maybe because you didn't know enough about it. Imagine going about your normal day and some random person, with ears or a tail, starts talking about how you are destined to be together. Scary, or romantic??

Finally getting out of your daydreaming you look at the clock and realize you are gonna be late for work if you don't leave this second. Running out the door, almost forgetting your bag, you rush downstairs and run down the street. You lived pretty close to the floral shop so it was easy for you to get there fast. Barley making it on time your boss gives you a long list of orders you have to prepare. Your day has officially started..

*Time skip*

After work you make it back to the apartment, dropping your keys in your tray and making a bee line to the couch. Your phone rings and you realize your best friend was asking if you were free. Once you text them you are you start getting ready. They didn't give you a lot of details but told you to dress casual.

They text you to meet them outside your apartment in 30 min and they were gonna pick you up. Getting ready you finally make it down the stairs and wait outside for her. Seeing her car pull up and her getting out you both greet each other. "You are gonna love it" she said, "I got invited to some party on the nice side of town, supposedly there is going to be a lot of nice, respectable men there!!!" Winking at you she started the car and started driving. "You know I am not looking for anyone right now, no one is gonna wanna be with me when I can barely go out. I mean I got lucky today and my boss let me off early!" "You might find someone who doesn't mind.... Or someone who makes some money, so you don't have to work as much." Both of you start laughing.

Finally making it to the house you guys pull into the drive way and a bunch of people walking around, inside and outside. "Is the house made of just glass" you question. "I guess it is the new thing with rich people, let everyone see your business" You both get out of the car, after parking it, and walk toward the entrance. Suddenly the both of you tense, realizing there weren't just humans at this party. Now you both don't have a problem with hybrids going into public places or having the same rights you have, but never being near one before and seeing their sharp teeth or ears freaked you both out.

You were the first one to relax a little, realizing they were just there to have fun, like everyone else. "I didn't know they were gonna be here sorry" your friend apologized. "It's OK, they are here just like us, no problems." You both walk in together and browse around to see who and what exactly was here.

A loud booming voice can be heard across the room. Everyone's heads turn towards the owner of the voice. You freeze in fear, or maybe just shock, you aren't quite sure. But you know for sure that the owner of that voice is not someone you want to cross paths with ever again.

He was ginormous with arms that could pick you up and throw you a mile away.... maybe even more than that. His shaggy honey brown hair draped around his face almost majestically. He smiled and you noticed his canines are pointier that anyone you have ever seen before.... wait, wait, wait. You could hit yourself for not noticing the round brown ears on the top of his head. That is why he is so much bigger than everyone in the room.... he is a grizzly bear hybrid.

You look to your friend in panic and notice she had the same look on her face. Grizzly bear hybrids are rare and tend to be more aggressive than other predator hybrids. You have never seen one before in person, you considered yourself lucky until now.

Finally zoning back in from your panic you realize that some non-hybrids share the same look as you and your friend do. Looking back over to the owner of the voice you catch his stare. Freezing up once again you can't look away from those... black eyes? or maybe they are a dark brown, you can't tell from the distance. Snapping out of your shock you realize he stops to... sniff.... no he can't be sniffing the air... can he?

Then realization hits you when he starts heading your way. You heard that hybrids could smell who their mate is, but it couldn't be. You can't possibly be his mate. Panic sets in again and you couldn't tell if you were overreacting, it couldn't be you he was heading towards. But still, you grab your friend's arm and bolt away before he could get close enough to start a conversation.

"What- Where are we going??" Your friend asks "We need to leave right no-" "WAIT, YOU IN THE (F/C) SHIRT!!" You could have sworn the ground shook with how loud his voice was. You don't freeze, now that you know for sure he was looking for you. "Is that-" You cut your friend off "We need to leave." She doesn't hesitate to grab her car keys from her pocket and catch up with your fast steps.

Looking behind you see the hybrid trying to make his way through the crowd. "WAIT, WAIT!!" He sounded so desperate, you almost felt bad if you still didn't feel the pit in your stomach. Looking ahead of you again, you both make it to the front door, storming out of the house and to the car. While your friend was starting it you both hear the front door slam open, turning your head to the side you see the hybrid rushing out. Your friend gets the car started and hits the gas to go forward. Looking back, you see him chasing the car with.... were those tears in his eyes? No, it couldn't be, he didn't even know you. Finally relaxing in your chair, you lay back and look at your friend and say, "I don't think I am going to go to a party with you for a while." Making eye contact you both start giggling. "I understand completely" she says in between her giggling.

*Time Skip*

You wake up with a raging headache, barley remembering what happened yesterday you groan and sit up. Then you pause as you remember who you saw and ran away from yesterday. A chill goes down your spine and you remember his smile with those pointed teeth. But you snap yourself out of it and say, "He didn't do anything wrong; I shouldn't be scared for no reason." But you can't shake the feeling of fear you felt when you saw him.

Getting out of bed you get ready for work, which you are supposed to be there in an hour. Changing into a cute shirt and jeans you make yourself your (Favorite breakfast). Once you finish your food, you grab your keys and head for the door. Getting in your car you start heading over to the floral shop. Entering the store was a whole dream, all the beautiful flowers and the addicting smells you can't help but smile. Making it to the back your boss greets you and gives you the orders to start the day.

A couple hours later you hear the door open and close, looking up to greet the customer you freeze. "Welc-...." Standing before you was the (at least 6'3) huge hybrid from yesterday. "I have been looking all over for you! Since you left so abruptly yesterday, I tracked down your scent and found you here! I was going to go to your apartment, but I thought that might have been too far." The smile on his face not disappearing, even after you didn't respond and just stared at him.

"You found me by my..... scent??" The sheer surprise you had confused him, his eyebrows furrowing. "Well of course honey, how else would I find you?" ..... Honey?!?!? Why is he calling you that?? Shaking the shock off you respond "Excuse me? I don't know you sir and I don't appreciate being called honey." If it could even be possible his eyebrows furrowed even more, before it looked like he realized something. "Oh dear! I forgot to introduce myself!! My names is Caleb, and I realize this might seem weird for you but... how do I word this.... well you are my mate!" The smile on his face grew 10 times when he said 'mate'

Chills rushed down your spine, and not the good kind. "Did you just say mates? No that can't be, I am sorry, but you have the wrong person." You almost felt bad as his face dropped, but you reminded yourself he basically stalked you to work! "But -" You cut him off, "I am really sorry and I wish you the best of luck finding who you are looking for." Tears started welling in his eyes.

"(Y/N)!" Turning around you see your boss, "Yes, sir?" "Come here right now!" Looking back at Caleb you quickly turn and rush to the backroom. "Wha-" You were cut off, "You need to leave, and take the b-bear with you!" "What si-" "LEAVE! You are gonna make business go down, so take him with you!" "Bu-" You were being shoved out of the room towards a very hopeful looking bear.

"You kids have fun!" Turning around the store door was closed in your face. Turning around to look at Caleb, you turn and start walking towards your car, keeping silent. "Wait!" Your arm was yanked backwards. "LET GO!" "No." He growled with a snarl on his face. "You are going to come with me so we can talk. Don't argue because you aren't going anywhere." Shutting your mouth, you start to walk with him, not wanting to be on his bad side. But you can't stop the small tingle you feel in the spot he touched.

He led you to a black car, opened the door, and gently pushed you inside. Once he got in, he started the car and got on the road. "Where are we going?" you managed to get out in a calm voice. Smiling over at you he replied, "Home of course." You had the feeling that it wasn't your house he was talking about.

*Time Skip*

It seemed like you had been in his car for hours, but it was just 30 minutes. Glancing over at him he seemed very content with a light smile on his face. You realize this might be because he finally has what he has waited his whole life for, his mate. Thinking back, you feel bad you just ran away from him and didn't even give him a chance to talk. Looking at his face you think he is very handsome, and you are surprised you didn't notice before. His jawline sharp, light freckles dusting his face, his shapely nose, and he had longer lashes then you did. "I hope you are pleased with how I look." His deep voice scared you out of your daze. Quickly looking away from you stare at the road ahead of you. Out of the corner of your eye you see him look towards you and say "You are so beautiful. So much better than what I imagined my mate to look like." You felt your cheeks heat up as you take a quick glance at him, luckily, he was looking back at the road.

Now going through an internal debate, you realize you don't feel scared anymore. It was almost like your body was relaxing after being with him and not fighting it. Trying to fight off the feelings you can't help but look over at him and say "Why am I feeling like this?" He glanced at you before turning his eyes back on the road. Looking concerned he said "Feeling like what? Are you feeling ill?" Sighing you say "No I don't feel sick but why do I feel comfortable with you? You basically just kidnapped me." You see a small smile making its way on his face, "It is because we are mates, you don't feel it as intensely as I do, since I have better senses than a normal human. But we were destined to be together it's only natural your body is reacting to my pheromones while your brain might be denying it." He suddenly reached a hand over and grabbed your hand. Tingles exploded everywhere just from that touch. You didn't move your hand away, even though you probably should have. Staring at your intertwined hands you couldn't help it, it just felt.... right.

Not even paying attention to the time anymore it takes you a quick second to realize the car stopped. Looking up you make eye contact with Caled. The smile on his face was so sweet you practically felt yourself melting, those dang pheromones. He turned and got out of the car, gently dropping your hand. You can't help but want to hold his hand again, even after everything. He opened the door for you, gently taking your hand again as you got out. As he went to pull his hand back you held on, refusing to let you go. You could see a big smile formed on his face as he looked at your hands.

Looking up you realize how far you must be from the city; you look at the beautiful cabin house, the log details, and the wrap around porch. The forest surrounding you was just as beautiful. Looking to the side of the house there is a small gravel pathway leading into the forest.

"Welcome to my home, well I guess it's ours now."

Looking at him, the sentence and you lightly pull your hand away from his. There is no way you are going to move in with him after just meeting him.... mates or not. A big frown formed on his face when you pulled away and hurt flashed in his eyes.

"I am not moving in with you. We just met! I don't appreciate being pushed into things. I know nothing about you, and you don't know anything about me."

Stepping back from him just a little. You see a change in his eyes, anger, or frustration? You are not completely sure.

Completely ignoring what you said before he continues on.

"My grandparents built this cabin when hybrids were still outcasts. Then it passed to my parents and now me. My parents built their own house further into the forest and decided I could have this house for my mate when I found her. No one knows about it."

Something flashed in his eyes when he said the last sentence. A chill ran down your spine and not a good one. You didn't like the implication of that at all. Your instincts were screaming to run and you couldn't fight your instincts. Not even giving your brain a chance to think, you bolted.

Running straight into the forest you curse yourself for not wearing running shoes to work today. You heard Caleb behind you shouting something, he sounded desperate and wounded. He sounded far enough away you know you surprised him by running. But you knew he would catch up to you eventually and you could hit yourself for not thinking about it before just bolting. There was a pain that you felt in your chest, but your adrenaline stopped the pain. You jumped over rocks and logs not wanting to slow down or trip. You could hear behind you Caleb was gaining on you and fast. Your legs burning you suddenly change routes. You hear a loud curse behind you and knew you shook him off your tail for just a second. That small victory didn't last long as the back of your shirt was yanked. Your back hitting a soft but solid chest.

You were absolutely winded while it seemed like he didn't even break a sweat. Looking at his face you shrink into yourself seeing a furious look. He had a snarl on his face and his eyebrows were furrowed together. You can't help but whimper slightly and you see sadness flash in his eyes just for a second before going back to anger.

"Where do you think you are going." He growled and you couldn't help but flinch at his tone.

"I was being nice and showing you my home, the one you are going to live in with me. I was going be nice and give you a week to stay at your house before moving in but after that stunt you pulled aren't ever going back."

"I'm sorry!" you practically cry out, shaking with fear. Turning around and grappling onto him, crying into his chest.

You couldn't explain it but the moment you ran it felt like your heart got torn out. But now, next to Caleb, the pain stopped.

"Why do I feel like this?!?!" Tears streaming down your face.

"Why do I want to be next to you so bad? Why did it hurt when I ran away!?"

You feel his muscular arms wrap around you and start rubbing your back. He started cooing and telling you it was ok, and he would explain later. His anger completely dissolving as he realized you felt the same pain he felt when you ran. Like someone just stabbed his heart out. Feeling yourself get picked up, you wrap your legs around his waist, stuffing your face in his neck, and wrapping your arms around the back of his head. You felt yourself calm almost instantly after putting your head in his neck. But the tears didn't stop even if you felt better.

"Let's get you back home, then we can clean up and eat something." He spoke so softly you almost wouldn't believe the anger he held in his voice not even 10 minutes ago.

Relaxing into his body you think to yourself, maybe it wouldn't be to bad if you just stayed with him.

[veronicaphoenix]

zutto — chapter seven | wc: 5.7k | series masterpost | prev. chapter

Chapter summary: Lia and Noah meet everyone again at Noah's house. Lia finds a familiar book in Noah's room and Noah catches her reading it, which leads to an inevitable conversation. Reading time: 22mins. aprox.

Tags and trigger warnings: fluff, one or two mentions of Lia's overdose, slight anxiety, alcohol intake, sexual innuendos, talks about bondage, one use of the word blowjob, noah on his knees, implied oral sex (fem. receiving).

General trigger warnings: this work addresses and depicts issues related to addiction, abuse, & violence, contains explicit sexual content, and explores themes of childhood trauma. Reader discretion is advised. +18

Returning to Noah’s house meant facing not only the people who lived there but also anyone else who might have dropped by that afternoon. Lia’s anxiety intensified during the drive from Santa Monica Place. 

Though she’d been nervous earlier, the time spent hand in hand with Noah at the mall had temporarily eased her tension. Now, however, the reality of confronting her friends and dealing with the consequences of her actions weighed on her. Shame, guilt, weakness… What would they think of her? Would they look at her with different eyes? Whatever it was, she had to push forward and deal with it. 

As they pulled into the driveway, Lia stepped out of the car and took a deep breath, following Noah. He glanced back to check on her.

Inside, they were immediately met by Jesse and Jolly, who bypassed Noah and rushed to hug Lia, bombarding her with the same concerned questions on repeat. Moments later, Matt emerged from the studio at the back of the house, giving Noah a quick brotherly hug before turning to Lia. He pulled her into his arms for a few seconds, then stepped back to study her closely.

“You look good,” he said, genuine relief in his voice.

“Thank Noah,” Lia replied.

Noah smiled, casually tossing his hoodie onto the sofa—one of his familiar habits. He noticed immediately that the living room and kitchen were a bit of a mess: dishes piled up in the sink, blankets on the sofa crumpled and unfolded.

“No one bothered to clean up while I was gone?” He asked, though his tone was lighthearted.

“Dude, we had lunch an hour ago and spent the morning being lazy,” Jolly explained, heading into the kitchen and announcing he was going to make coffee for everyone.

He busied himself at the same time Matt mentioned that the two Nicks were on their way over.

The anxiety Lia had about meeting everyone again after being cooped up in her apartment with Noah for what felt like forever—only leaving for her therapy sessions and exchanging a few scattered phone calls with Emery, Jolly, and Folio—faded surprisingly fast. Within five minutes, all the tension melted away. She wasn’t sure what she had expected—maybe judgment, maybe that she’d somehow lost their love or the bond they shared—but before she knew it, the boys were being boys, and it was like nothing had ever changed.

The Nicks and Mike showed up just in time to join the group for coffee. They all gathered around the wide kitchen island, some sitting, others leaning against counters as they shared stuff about the last few days. Conversations drifted easily—someone mentioned a ridiculous late-night craving, Nicholas recounted a failed attempt at cooking dinner, and Jesse imitated Mike’s dramatic reaction to his favorite sports team losing.

Then, Matt brought up work, and that’s when Lia noticed Noah’s energy shift. His face tightened with focus, and in an instant, the playful, relaxed version of him gave way to something more intense. It was like she could see the gears in his head turning. He didn’t even finish his coffee before he headed to the studio with Matt and Mike, already in work-mode.

Lia stayed behind in the living room with the Nicks, Jolly, and Jesse. An hour later, the air felt lighter, and every once in a while, Folio would nudge her, asking if she was okay. A few moments later, Jolly chimed in, wondering aloud if she needed another coffee, but she didn’t. In fact, she realized she was childhishly missing Noah. They had spent nearly every minute together over the last few days, so much so that now, with him gone—to the studio at the other end of the house—for not even an hour, her fingers tingled with the urge to find him, to touch him. 

She must have zoned out, because when she refocused on the conversation, Folio and Jolly were holding ten-dollar bills that Jesse and Nicholas had taken out from their wallets. 

“What’s going on?” Lia asked, furrowing her brows. “You guys into drug dealing now?”

Jolly chuckled. “Nah. Better than that.”

“We made a bet,” Folio explained with a smirk. “Noah couldn’t convince you to cancel the trip. Jesse and Nick were betting he could.”

“They underestimated the power you have over that man,” Jolly added, folding the bill and keeping it in his pocket.

Lia ducked her head slightly to hide the warmth rising to her cheeks. They still didn’t know the full story, and she couldn’t find the courage to tell them yet. She couldn’t help but wonder if there might be another bet on the table—maybe one that involved how long it would take her and Noah to get together.

“Has he been taking good care of you?” Jolly asked.

It was a joke, for he knew the answer to that. But she understood the deeper question there. They wanted to know if she was really okay, and if Noah had been what she needed during this rough time.

“He’s been great,” she said, lifting her chin slightly, a soft smile on her face. “Really great.”

Jolly and Jesse exchanged a look, trying to read into the way she said it. Lia caught their glance and couldn’t help but laugh.

“He’s even done the dishes every single day,” she added. “Can’t complain.”

“Complain about?” Noah’s voice echoed through the hallway. It took him no more than three seconds to appear and enter the living room, smiling brightly at Lia, a sense of calm washing over him as he confirmed she was okay. She looked comfortable and at ease, surrounded by the people they both cared about.

“About your bad habits,” Nicholas muttered, grinning. “Like leaving dirty socks all over the house and all the kitchen drawers open.”

Noah frowned, clearly confused. 

“I don’t do that,” he said, crossing the room and leaning one knee on the armrest of the sofa to reach behind Lia, placing a soft, absentminded kiss on her hair. No one seemed to care or be surprised by the affection; it was just Noah and Lia, the way they’d always been—close, comfortable, unspoken warmth between them.

“I know,” Lia said, tilting her head back to look up at him with a smile. “Don’t listen to them. I told them you’ve been a good boy.”

“I am a good boy. I just finished my part of the work,” he emphasized, his eyes twinkling. “Now it’s your turn, guys. Go catch up on your stuff and stop being lazy—we’re heading out on tour in two weeks, and there’s still a lot to prep.” He looked pointedly at Nick. “We need a full gear check. Make sure the bass rig is solid, and everything’s tuned up. If anything’s busted, handle it now before we’re scrambling last minute. Same goes for you, Folio. We still have to lock in the tempo changes for the setlist. Let’s make sure you’ve got the click tracks lined up and that the drum kit’s in top shape. No last-minute issues like last tour. Matt and Mike are going through the logistics, so whatever you need to check on, guys, do it now. Tighten up your parts because in two weeks, we’re hitting the road hard.”

The group exchanged a mix of playful eye rolls and resigned nods. They knew the drill—work had to get done. Meanwhile, Lia couldn’t help but find his enthusiasm and ordering around extremely hot.  

With a proud “that’s my boy”, Jolly stood up before following the others back to the studio and letting Folio disappear into the garage, where one of his drum kit’s was.  In a matter of minutes, Lia and Jesse were the only ones left in the living room. Noah, true to his perfectionist nature, followed the boys back to the studio. He always had a hard time letting go when it came to work.

Jesse took the chance to show Lia some new ERRA merch ideas on his iPad. He swiped through a series of designs—hoodies, shirts, and hats—that featured bold artwork, some of which Lia immediately recognized as hers. They had used sketches she’d created the previous year, reworking them into something fresh and edgy, but still unmistakably hers.

“Look familiar?” Jesse asked with a grin, tapping the screen to show her a black hoodie with one of her intricate line drawings of a phoenix worked into a line from one of their latest songs. “We decided to tweak it a bit. I hope you don’t mind.”

Lia’s eyes lit up as she examined the designs more closely. 

“Not at all. It looks incredible,” she said, a flush of pride warming her. She’d forgotten just how much she’d missed working on creative projects like this. “It looks so much better than the original.”

“We wanted it to match the vibe of the album a bit more. I thought about asking you, but considering everything that’s been going on, we didn’t want to overwhelm you. We figured we’d give it a shot ourselves. I don’t think it’s better than your original, but if you like it and are okay with it, we’re ready to send it to printing.” 

Lia nodded enthusiastically, agreeing to it. 

As they flipped through more mock-ups, Lia felt that familiar itch at her fingertips. After a few minutes of discussing the tweaks and color palettes, she couldn’t resist pulling out her sketchbook from her backpack. She began sketching new ideas for future possible merch—or perhaps an illustrated book—her pencil moving swiftly across the page.

When Noah finally reappeared, he smiled at the sight of her sketching. He slipped onto the couch between her and Jesse, but before he could say a word to Lia, Jesse roped him into discussing more of the merch designs.

“Check out this lineup,” Jesse said, showing Noah the pictures of the updated items. Noah nodded, half-distracted by the sight of Lia absorbed in her drawing next to him, but he engaged with Jesse, asking questions and giving his thoughts.

A few minutes after, Lia stood up to fix herself a mug of jasmine tea, her head still brimming with ideas. She wandered into the kitchen, completely unaware that Jesse had quietly slipped off to his room, leaving her and Noah alone.

She was just pouring the boiling water into one of her favorite mugs when she felt Noah’s familiar warmth at her back. His lips found her hair, and his nose brushed against her ear, sending a delightful shiver through her body.

“I missed you,” he whispered, his breath hot against her skin.

“You were just locked in the studio for an hour,” she replied, though her heart fluttered in her chest. She missed him too, but teasing him felt like the natural response. “That’s nothing compared to your usual routine.”

“I have a new routine now,” he said, his voice low, a smirk tugging at the corners of his lips.

“Oh?” She turned around, holding the mug in one hand, bringing it to her lips as she eyed him curiously. “You do?”

She took a slow sip, and Noah’s gaze fixed on her lips as they pressed against the rim of the mug. He watched the way she swallowed, the gentle curve of her throat.

“Yes,” he answered, almost breathless, his hands finding their place on her hips. His eyes darkened, the playful smirk growing more wicked by the second.

Lia swallowed the warm liquid, then deliberately licked her lips. She could feel his pulse quicken as he eyed the little action, and the power she had in that moment made her grin.

Noah’s jaw tightened.  

“What do I have to do to get another blowjob from that pretty mouth of yours?”

Lia raised an eyebrow, pretending to consider his question. 

“Hmm. I don’t know. Last night, you got me to four orgasms in a couple of hours. You set the bar pretty high. Maybe if you can top that...” Her voice dropped, teasing, “I might just get on my knees for you and do that thing with my tongue you seemed to like so much.”

Noah bit down on his lip, hard, his self-control hanging by a thread as he emited a sound similar to a growl. He shook his head slightly, trying to rein in his desire, but it was too much. He reached for the mug, gently taking it from Lia’s hand and setting it behind her on the counter. Then, without another word, he picked her up by the waist, turning them both around and placing her on the kitchen island.

His mouth crashed into hers, the kiss deep and hungry. Lia responded instantly, her hands tangling in his hair, pulling him closer as she lost herself in the heat of the moment. She was breathless by the time they parted, but her eyes stayed locked on his, craving more.

Just as Noah’s hands slid up Lia’s sides, his lips still feverish against hers, they heard a sound. Startled, they both froze, turning toward the doorway to find Jesse standing there, wide-eyed and slack-jawed.

“Oh my… Fucking finally!” he exclaimed, his arms lifting in the air to then drop to his sides.

Noah sprang away from Lia, immediately trying to compose himself, cheeks flushed a deep red. He rubbed the back of his neck, a nervous laugh escaping as he looked anywhere but directly at Jesse. Lia, equally embarrassed, hopped down from the counter, smoothing her shirt, trying to hide the heat rising to her face.

Jesse, still grinning ear to ear, didn’t waste any time. 

“Hey, guys! Get in here! You won’t believe this!” he shouted toward the studio, his voice carrying through the house.

Lia and Noah exchanged a panicked look as footsteps echoed down the hall. Before they could protest, the rest of the guys piled into the kitchen one by one. Jolly, Nicholas, and Mike were the first to enter, and the moment they saw Noah and Lia standing awkwardly with flushed cheeks next to each other, it clicked.

“Seriously? About damn time!” 

The room erupted in cheers and whoops, and before Lia knew it, she was being swept into a hug from Jolly, then from Folio, and even Nicholas joined in with an exaggerated, “Congrats, you two lovebirds.”

Noah stood to the side, laughing nervously and trying to fend off Mike’s bear hug.

“You guys broke the record,” Mike said, shaking his head in disbelief. “Idiots in love who couldn’t see they were in love with each other. I’m amazed it took you this long.”

Matt entered the room, smirking knowingly. “So now we know what you’ve really been up to, locked in Lia’s apartment all these days, huh?”

The teasing had both Lia and Noah blushing again, though this time, it felt a bit easier. 

Folio clapped his hands together, heading to the fridge. “Well, I guess this calls for a celebration. Who’s in for a beer?”

He stopped mid-reach when his eyes met Lia’s. There was a beat of silence, the group looking at her, suddenly remembering.

Lia, catching his hesitation, smiled softly. “It’s okay,” she reassured. “You don’t have to make it weird because I’m here. Go ahead, drink. It’s fine.”

Folio hesitated for a second, then nodded, relieved, and started passing out beers to the others. When he handed one to Noah, though, Noah declined.

“I’ll stick with tea,” Noah said casually, motioning to the kettle on the counter.

Lia glanced at him, her brow furrowing slightly. She noticed his quiet decision, wondering for a moment if it had something to do with her. 

Jolly called Emery to come over, and soon after, Bryan and Davis joined them, Bryan arriving with several boxes of pizza in tow.

As the hours passed, it felt like old times again. Lia found herself sitting between Noah’s legs on the carpet, her back resting against his chest, as they indulged in different pizza flavors and shared jokes. Emery sat comfortably in Jolly’s arms on the couch, the two of them whispering to each other and stealing occasional kisses, and Bryan and Folio fought for the last slice of peperoni pizza, keeping the others entertained in their silly wrestling.              

Lia felt a deep sense of gratitude as she cuddled in Noah’s arms and watched her friends. Despite everything she had gone through, here she was, surrounded by people who loved and supported her. It felt like nothing had changed, like the bond between them all was as strong as it’d always been. 

The night wore on.

Lia and Emery eventually retreated to a quieter corner of the living room to talk. It felt comforting to reconnect with her best friend, knowing that despite everything, their friendship hand’t changed. Lia had struggled to be the supportive friend Emery deserved during her new relationship with Jolly; right when it began, she had fucked things up with Noah. When she apologized to Emery, she smiled reassuringly and said it was okay; that what mattered now was that they were all in a good place, and that she got her best friend back. Ah, and on top of that, they could now chat about their hot boyfriends, tease each other, and share bits about how good they were in bed. 

Meanwhile, Jolly, Jesse, Noah, and Matt were standing in the kitchen, leaning against the counter, glancing occasionally toward Emery and Lia. They watched the latter, talking animatedly with her girlfriend, a glow of happiness on her face.

“She looks… different,” Jesse mentioned, his voice low but thoughtful.

“She looks happy,” Jolly corrected. He crossed his arms, a slight smile tugging at his lips.

Noah, who had been absently running his hand up and down his mug of tea, couldn’t take his eyes off her, mesmerized by the way she laughed and smiled. That’s how she wanted her, always —aside from in his bed, naked.

Matt, leaning against the counter beside him, nudged his side. 

“You look good too, man. Did you two catch up on sleep, or have you been using your nights for some well-deserved sweet time?” 

Noah wasn’t one to bask in the attention, especially when it came to him and Lia and their private bedroom matters. However, he couldn’t hide the smile that gave him away. 

The night continued, and the city outside turned pitch black. The sounds in the apartment began to mellow, as everyone settled into their own rhythms. The Nicks, Bryan, and Matt had retreated to their video games, completely absorbed in their battle on the screen, while Jolly and Emery shared soft kisses in a quiet corner of the sofa.

Noah, always drawn back to work, had disappeared into the studio again with Mike, Davis, and Jesse, likely refining tour setlists or tweaking final production notes. As the group dispersed into their various corners, Lia found herself alone for the first time all night. She stood up quietly, leaving the lovebirds and the boys playing videogames behind, and made her way to Noah’s room. 

The warmth of the evening was still wrapped around her, but a part of her longed for a moment alone. The air in the hallway was cooler, quieter. Once inside Noah’s room, she let out a long breath. The familiar scent of him filled the room—it smelled like home.

A small pile of her clothes still lay neatly in one of his drawers, and his bed remained perfectly made, just as it had been since they left for the US tour. She smiled at how organized and clean everything was, a reflection of Noah himself. 

Her gaze lingered on the bed, and a flood of memories rushed back. Not long ago, she had slept in that very spot, bruised and heartbroken. The thought twisted her stomach, so she sat down in the armchair in the corner, trying to focus on the quieter, more peaceful moments she’d spent there—reading books or sketching while Noah took care of her.

But her eyes kept drifting back to the bed. She couldn’t help but think of the nights when Noah had held her through her nightmares, his presence always the comfort she needed. 

Curling up in the armchair, she wrapped her arms around herself, sitting in silence for a few minutes.

Eventually, her attention was drawn to the stack of books on top of the drawer beside her. Absentmindedly, she read the titles until one caught her eye: The Seductive Art of Japanese Bondage, the words printed on the spine white and faded yellow.  

She stared at it like it was Pandora’s box—something she shouldn’t open but couldn’t resist. Before she could stop herself, she reached out, picked it up, and flipped it open.

It started as an act of curiosity—the same curiosity that had led her to ask Noah about shibari in the first place—but it quickly became something more. 

As Lia flipped through the pages, her interest on the topic seemed to grow. The book was a deep dive into the history and philosophy behind the practice. She learned about the origins of it, and how, over time, the martial art had evolved into the erotic art of shibari, shifting from control and confinement to an expression of trust, vulnerability, and intimate connection.

Many of the passages mentioned the meditative aspects of it, the idea of releasing control and being fully present in the moment. There was emphasis on the importance of trust between the participants—how the one being tied must surrender to the process, allowing themselves to be vulnerable, while the one tying held the responsibility of creating a safe and secure space. The knots themselves were described as more than just physical restraints; they were symbols of the bond between the partners, a delicate balance of power and intimacy.

The more she read, the more Lia saw how shibari could be about empowerment, not just surrender. The art required both participants to be attuned to each other, heightening their connection through every twist of the rope. It sounded like something she could benefit from, a way to rebuild her trust and connection with Noah—if she could get past her fear.

But as the thrill of trying something new began to bubble up inside her, so did the unease. Her last therapy session had forced her to confront a hard truth—she feared losing control, especially after Mitch had manipulated and controlled her. The idea of someone, even Noah, holding that kind of power over her was terrifying. Could she really trust him enough to let him tie her up?

She hadn’t even realized that she had been thinking about practicing this crazy thing called bondage with Noah until the thought hit her. Heat flooded her face, and a strange ache bloomed between her legs. The mix of fear and excitement left her feeling exposed, as if the very pages of the book had unlocked something she wasn’t ready to confront.

Lia’s mind raced as she lay back on the armchair, her thoughts spiraling deeper. Sex with Noah had already proven to be a release, a way to let go of the fears and insecurities that gnawed at her. He had shown her that she could be vulnerable with him and he would only love her more. He had pleasured her while making her feel safe and loved.

She couldn’t remember the last time she’d felt so cared for, so satisfied, so beautiful. Noah had looked at her like she was the most precious thing in the world, had touched her with reverence, making her body feel alive in a way it hadn’t been in a very long time. 

But as much as she craved that feeling, there were limits. Her trust in him was still fragile—not because she doubted him, but because she doubted herself. She was still easily shaken by the ghosts of her past. The idea of letting him tie her hands, to give him control in that way, sent a ripple of anxiety through her. She couldn’t trust herself not to panic, to be overwhelmed by the memories she tried so hard to bury. 

Lia shook her head, trying to push the deeper thoughts away. She didn’t want to dwell on it. Not now, at least. Instead, she focused on the pages of the book, letting herself get lost in the descriptions of the intricate knots and the philosophy behind the art.

Barely a few minutes later, the door creaked open. 

“Lia?” Noah’s voice cut through her thoughts, soft but filled with concern. “Hey, I got worried for a sec. You okay?”

Lia sat up quickly, her heart racing. She nervously tried to hide the book, heat rushing to her cheeks.

“Yeah,” she mumbled, standing up and keeping the book behind her.

Noah stepped further into the room, his eyes catching the way she held something in her hand. 

“Were you reading?”

“Hum… yeah.” Lia felt her pulse quicken, trying to act casual. 

Noah’s eyes shifted down to her hand, and when he noticed the book, a small smirk played on his lips.

“Is that...?” he began, amusement creeping into his tone. “Are you trying to hide it from me?”

“No,” she said while moving the book behind her to hide it better. 

Noah chuckled, stepping closer, clearly amused. “Lia,” he said, “are you embarrassed?"

She bit her lip, her fingers tightening around the book. “I was just… I saw it there and I remembered what you read to me. I got curious and—”

“You wanted to learn more?” Noah finished, his smile soft but knowing.

“Yeah. I mean—I was just curious. The book was lying there and…” She stopped when she noticed the way his eyes were boring into her. “Don’t look at me like that.”

“Like what?” he asked, his eyes sparkling with mischief. 

“Like you want to do these things to me,” she replied, shaking the book in her hand. 

Noah’s playful grin faded when he saw her expression shift.

“I do,” he said, his voice suddenly serious.

“What?” she asked, her throat tight.

“I’d love to tie you up,” Noah admitted, his eyes locking with hers, but his smile quickly fell when he noticed the fear behind her gaze.

Before he could ask her what was wrong, Bryan’s voice rang through the house, calling Noah’s name. The moment shattered.

Lia took the opportunity to escape the intensity of the conversation, leaving the book on the armchair as she crossed the room and brushed past Noah to open the door.

Bryan was standing in the hallway.

“I’m heading out, and so are the others. Just wanted to let you know.”

The house began to empty after that. Slowly, one by one, everyone trickled out, offering their goodbyes with tired but happy smiles.

When the last of them had left and the house had grown quiet, Noah and Lia followed suit, heading back to her apartment. Right before Noah put on his hoodie, Lia suggested staying there, pointing out that the band’s equipment was in the house and it’d be more practical for him to be there instead of at her place, but he refused. 

The ride home was quiet. Noah glanced at Lia several times, concern etching his features, but she seemed… content. Despite the encounter in the room, her expression was soft, pleased even, though her tiredness was evident.

Once they were settled in her bedroom, Lia returned from the bathroom barefoot, wearing only one of Noah’s old t-shirts and her panties. As she adjusted her long hair behind her shoulders, Noah spoke. He had been looking through the window, fear prickling at him. What if he wanted too much from her?

“Did I scare you earlier?” he asked.

She looked up at him, a slight furrow forming between her brows, her hands pausing mid-motion in her hair.

“When I said I wanted to tie you up,” he clarified.

Lia froze briefly, then let her hair fall as she exhaled slowly. Sitting down on the edge of the mattress, her hands rested in her lap, fingers nervously twisting, then tracing the hem of the t-shirt. The only light on in the room was the bedside lamp, which casted a warm glow across the space.

“No, you didn’t scare me.”

Noah moved closer until he was in front of her. Then he knelt on the floor, his gaze steady as he looked up at her, his hands gently resting on her knees. The intimacy of the position was grounding, his presence there at her feet a quiet reminder that he wasn’t going anywhere. 

“But something was off. I could see it,” he continued. 

Lia hesitated, her mind flashing back to the swirling thoughts that had been spinning through her head. She wanted to be honest, but part of her didn’t want to admit how deeply the idea unsettled her.

“It’s not you,” she finally said, her voice soft. “It’s just… I want to trust you, Noah. And I do. It’s just that… I’m scared of losing control.”

“Do you think I’d ever hurt you?”

“No.” Lia shook her head. “But it’s not about that. It’s about me, about what I went through with Mitch. I’m just… not sure if I can handle being that vulnerable again.”

Noah’s expression softened with understanding. He leaned in, pressing a kiss to her temple. “We don’t have to do anything you’re not ready for. You know that, right?”

“I know,” she whispered, leaning into him. “But a part of me feels like... maybe this could help me. Help me let go of the fear. At the same time, I’m not sure I’m ready to try all of that just yet,” she admitted, her voice softer than before. “I’m curious… and I want to try it with you, but I don’t think I can handle it now.”

Noah’s fingers traced soft circles on her knee, his touch light and reassuring. 

“Of course,” he said, his voice calm and patient. “It makes total sense, and I told you before—I’m in no rush. This is about us. We have all the time in the world to try new things and explore what we like and what we don’t.”

His eyes flicked up to hers, holding her gaze with a quiet intensity. 

“I just want it to be you. And I want to be the only one to give that to you,” he admited. “And I just know you’d look so pretty tied up and naked.”

Lia felt a flush rise in her cheeks as something twirled in her lower belly. She looked down at Noah, the tenderness in his expression making her heart ache in the best possible way. She reached out, cupping his jaw, her thumb brushing across the stubble on his cheek.

“You say that, and you still manage to look so sweet,” she murmured, a small smile tugging at her lips. “How do you even do that?”

He chuckled softly, leaning into her touch for a moment. 

“It’s my charm.”

Lia smiled, but it quickly faded into a sigh. She felt the gravity of the conversation settle over them again, the air between them thick. There was something about the way Noah was looking at her, the softness in his eyes, that made her feel safe enough to let down her guard a little more.

Noah cupped her cheek this time, his thumb tracing her jaw. 

“We’ll take it slow. And if you’re ever uncomfortable, we stop. I don’t care if it’s mid-knot or mid-anything. You say the word, and it’s over. Okay?”

“Okay.”

“We don’t have to do anything tonight. Not because of this talk or anything else. I don’t want you to feel pressured. We can just lie down, watch something, or fall asleep. Whatever feels right for you. Anything.”

Lia’s fingers slid down to rest against his shoulder, her soft breath mingling with the stillness in the room. She gave him a small nod. 

“Anything?”

Noah nodded, his eyes never leaving hers.

For a moment, she hesitated, then slowly stood up from the bed, her legs brushing against his as she moved. Noah stayed where he was, kneeling on the floor, looking up at her with a quiet mix of curiosity. She stood before him, wearing nothing but his t-shirt that fell just shy of her thighs and a pair of panties.

She could feel the heat of his attention—desire simmering but held back by his endless patience. It made her feel both exposed and empowered.

With a steadying breath, she reached down and slowly peeled off the t-shirt. The fabric slipped past her bare skin, falling softly to the floor. Noah’s breath hitched as her breasts came into view, but he didn’t move. His eyes followed the movements of her body like every shift she made was sacred.

Lia stood there, wearing just her panties, feeling the warmth emanating from his brown almond-shaped eyes. There was no rush, no pressure, just the weight of his eyes on her, heavy with desire but still so respectful. It was his restraint, his quiet reverence that made her feel powerful in a way she was learning to love. 

Slowly, she hooked her fingers around the waistband of her panties, pushing them down until they joined the shirt on the floor.

She stood completely exposed now, and yet somehow it didn’t feel like vulnerability. Not with him. His eyes traveled the length of her body, not with hunger, but with something deeper. Like he was seeing her for the first time, all over again.

“Anything,” Noah whispered, his voice barely more than a breath.

Lia stepped closer, her body so near that he could feel the warmth radiating from her skin. His hands instinctively found her hips, pulling her just a little closer as he pressed a soft, reverent kiss to her stomach, just below her navel. Her breath caught, but she didn’t move. She trusted him to take his time, just as he had trusted her.

Noah kissed his way along the soft plane of her abdomen, his nose brushing lightly against her skin, while one of his hands slid to the back of her thigh. Gently, he lifted her leg, guiding it over his shoulder. Lia’s fingers threaded through his hair, her breath coming in slow, steady waves as she guided her core toward his eager mouth.

Her heartbeat quickened, but it wasn’t from fear or hesitation. She wasn’t giving up control; she was choosing to share it with him. And that made all the difference.

She let herself sink into the warmth of his touch, into the safety of his presence, her anxiety fading as she surrendered—not to him, but with him.

— prev. chapter | chapter eight

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