#Ben in the glass bottle | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

yougavemeyourheartyouknow · 2 months

Text

Childs play (Miguel O’Hara x fem! Reader [ex-Childhood best friend turned Fwb AU]) Part 1

Hiiiii! I’m so freaking excited for y’all to read this I’m literally shaking! This will only be 1 part. (Edit: I’ve changed my mind it will get a second part but it won’t be put right away) Shout out to @chickenshit03 for beta reading the one shot. Absolute sweetheart 🫶🏼. Not proofread, enjoy!!

(Y/N)-Your name.

NSFW!! SMUT!! MDNI!! Cursing, light choking during the deed , protecting PinV, Miguel being a big meanie near the end, Comfort/Hurt, lmk if I can’t think of anymore

Word count: 4.6k

Part 2

Masterlist

—

Knock knock…

“Hello, I’m sorry if I’m intruding but I wanted to introduce myself, me and my family just moved in next door and I wanted to introduce ourselves.” Your mother said as she stood at her neighbors door, you hid timidly behind her leg as she spoke to a Hispanic woman with curly dark hair. Your eyes wandered around her living room, or at least as much as you could catch from your spot. Not paying any mind to the conversation they were having when your eyes spotted a young boy around your age, about five or so walking past with a few legos in hand.

Your shyness was quickly overtaken with curiosity as you went to pull on your mother’s hand, she must have been watching you stare at the brunette, because before you could even turn up to ask her if you could go play, she was already shooing you in the direction of him as her and the other lady went to go talk over coffee in the kitchen.

He didn’t glance up at you as you sat down in front of his spot on the living room floor, being too preoccupied on the Star Wars set he was working on.

“Hi.”

“My name’s (Y/N).”

“Cool.”

“What’s your name?”

“Miguel.”

You paused, shifting to sit down better before speaking again.

“Can I help? I love legos.”

He stayed quiet, and for a second you think he’ll say no, until he shrugged and moved the instruction book so you both could read it, making your lips come up in a smile.

“Sure.”

—

“You can teach me to play street fighter a million times and I will never understand it.” You huffed as you dropped the controller on your lap and leaned back on the couch, the tv in his living room sounded out a “finish her” as Miguel’s character killed yours, you couldn’t even be bothered to remember the names, peeved off that’d he beat you for the upteenth time, him not even having the courtesy to let you win one round.

“I’m not gonna be sorry for you being bad.” He retorted in a teasing tone, sticking out his tongue at you, and blew a raspberry. Your arms quickly crossover your chest as you puff your cheeks out with a pout.

“You’re so mean to me Miguel, I hate you.” You mumbled the half-lie to the other ten year old, looking away as you felt your cheeks heat with embarrassment, you didn’t even notice his movements until you felt him grab for your hand, turning your head to realize he was now standing in front of your spot on the couch.

“You don’t hate me, I’m your best friend.” He states, making you nod your head in confirmation after a beat, “Good. Because you’re my best friend too.” You smiled.

“Can we play something else then?”

“Nope.”

“Ughhh.”

—

“(Y/N), it’s your turn to spin the bottle.” Mj’s voice snapped you out of your head, suddenly aware of all the other fourteen years olds turning to stare at you. Was it a bit embarrassing you were about to lose your first kiss in a game of spin the bottle?

Half-dried nail-polished fingers gently grabbed the base of the empty Coke bottle, praying to god no one saw the way your hand trembled slightly, as you gave it a good twist. As your eyes tracked the blur of clear glass, you got your lower lip, silently hoping it was someone who you wouldn’t fluster up in embarrassment when you had to tell them who was your first kiss in the four walls of the lunch room. Like Kyle, or Ben or-

“Oooo- you got Miguel!” One of the other girls giggled as your eyes shot up to where the tip was pointing and surely, there he sat in front of you. Miguel was good…yeah, great even! You trusted him, he was your best friend since you were practically in dippers…So with a fine silent look of confirmation, you crossed the circle, closing your eyes as your lips connected for the first time.

Is it normal for your heart to skip a beat during a kiss? God how red is my face right now? Have I been holding it for too long? I wonder if he’s enjoying it, he hasn’t pulled away so that’s a good sign right? I should probably stop now. It's been like four seconds.

You finally pull away, sitting down on your knees as you bring a hand up to wipe some excess saliva away from the cover of your mouth. The sound of the next person going to spin the bottle muffles out around you as you focus on the weird flutter in your stomach.

—

“SLOW DOWN MIG-YOU’RE DRIVING LIKE A MANIAC!” You yelled as your left hand flew to grab at your seat belt, right hand gripping the overhead handle so hard your knuckles were turning white, pushing yourself as much as you could into the passenger seat at you could while he just let out an eye roll and chuckle as you were being dramatic (you weren’t).

“I’m not taking driving advice from someone who doesn’t have their license yet.”

“You got your license yesterday! I don’t turn sixteen for another four months!”

“Don’t care, you could ever shut up or take the bus.”

You couldn’t respond right away because another scream came from your throat as he turned a corner.

“If I die in this stupid car, I’m going to haunt the shit out of you O’Hara!”

“I’m not gonna let you die, stop being dramatic.” He scoffed, finally pulling up to the school parking lot, finally slowing down as he looked for a place to park. His arm comes around the back of your car seat as he goes to backwards park in an empty spot. “See I didn’t let you die.”

“I’m actually traumatized…” You muttered, eyes still wide as you kept still in your seat. Miguel let out a huff and he goes to take your seatbelt off once the car was shut off.

“If I buy you some subway during lunch will you stop complaining?”

“…yes.”

—

“Maybe I could just take a gap year-or-or go to the community college nearby, just until I can transfer, then I can try for Columbia again?” You kept fumbling your words, looking at the rejection letter in your hands. If you tried to focus on it enough, you’d be able to hear the paper shaking lightly in your hands. Glossy eyes trying to rapidly blink away tears before they fell on the paper. Miguel quickly shook his head as he placed his coffee cup down on the table of the cafe you two would frequent.

“No. Not happening, I’ll just reject my application and we can go to Stanford together in California.” He told you, making you copy his actions as you placed the paper down next to your other University letters.

“Are you crazy? That’s your dream school! I am not letting you do that for me. I’d never forgive myself for that.” You admitted, looking at him in those familiar brown eyes, praying to god yours weren’t growing bloodshot from the emotional moment between you both. Miguel letting out a heavy sigh, his hand going to run through his pushed back brown locks as he looked down at his letters again. The silence that grew over you two was almost suffocating, a thing it never felt like around him. It made your heart ache, trying to keep back a whine and some tears as you closed your eyes and took in a shaky breath before opening them again and finally breaking the silence between you both. “I mean…FaceTime is a thing right?” Miguel raised a brow at your sentence, before it clicked in his mind what you were implying. Quickly shaking his head, his hand coming up to stop you.

“No. No. I can’t even go a week without seeing you, I’ve lived next door to you for thirteen years and you expect me to be okay with us being two thousand miles away from each other!?” You glanced around you when Miguel raised his voice slightly, luckily other than you and the owner the place was practically barren.

“Mig, we’ll figure it out! We’ll call and text, FaceTime, and I’ll come back for breaks! And besides, you don’t strike me as a type to enjoy California.” You attempted to lighten the mood, thankfully being met with an amused grunt and his lip twitching up slightly.

“Fine… just, promise we aren’t going to end up like all those friends who stop talking because we’re going to separate college’s alright?”

Your smile grew. “I promise.”

—

Ring…

Rin- “Hey it’s Miguel,” your ears perked up, quickly scrambling up from your position on your bunk bed, where you were laying on your stomach, “I can’t come to the phone right now, leave me a message.” Beep.

“Hey Miguel… just wanted to see how you were, I finished my exams for the semester, and I’m going back to Neuva York tomorrow. I wanted to see if you’d want to hang out during the break, let me know… bye…” You mumbled before you hung up the call, tossing your phone on the other side of your bed. Running your hands through your head, letting out a heavy sigh. Closing your eyes to keep any forming tears of frustration from spilling out.

You and Miguel weren’t as close as you’d like to be anymore. How did a few months apart completely unwind the tight knit threat that had kept you both close for years? It had started out well, you did good at keeping your side of the promise and he did as well. Texting every hour, FaceTiming him every weekend, calling every night while you both studied, it almost felt like nothing had changed.

Then, classes became harder, you’d both start to develop new friends, new routines. The text became less frequent, now lagging to every few days, FaceTime sessions were now non-existent and your daily calls now became monthly, never lasting more than half an hour. You hated how you two were growing apart, and it hurt to see that Miguel didn’t seem to care. You didn’t have to see him in person to notice his new friend group was starting to change his personality. He was starting to seem more stoic, dry, it almost seemed like he was constantly agitated or something of the sort when you finally would get a hold of him. Still… despite the gradual change he seemed to be going through you still had hope that deep down he was still the same old Miguel you had grown to love and cherish. And that spark of hope only grew when you heard the faint buzz of your phone from the foot of your bed, quickly grabbing it to read a new message.

Text me when you get in tomorrow.

—

This was not what you had in mind.

Somehow Miguel had convinced you to go to some random bar that didn’t ID with him and his college buddies. “I’ll be fun” he said, “you’ll love them” he said. Now here you were forced to listen to some snobby trust fund kid bitch and moan about how he had to inherit his father’s company and blah blah blah. You weren’t even paying attention anyways, his words were going into one ear and flying out the other, opting to sip on your mixed drink to help keep you from banging your head into the bar counter. Tonight had simply e been the worst. Not to mention Miguel had been acting… different.

Maybe he just wasn’t good with distance, but it still struck you as odd how the second you were both finally in close proximity it was almost as if nothing had happened, like your friendship with each other wasnt badly strained for weeks on end. It didn’t stop there though, no no no. Because now that you were with him in front of his new friends and all dolled up he had been more… touchy, and not in a way he had been before.

A hand on your thigh, an arm around your waist, a finger idly twisting and twirling your hair. It was so… intimate… like he wanted them to think there was something there that was more than just a childhood friend. You couldn’t say that you hated it, it was just unexpected.

“Hey… let’s get out of here?” Miguel’s whisper snapped you out from your thoughts. The way his voice murmured lowly against your shoulder as he all but rubbed against it like a cat making your cheeks flare up and a shiver ran down your back. Quickly ignoring the feeling of the spike in your heart rate and the wetness growing in your panties, nodding as you go to stand up, not wanting to be in the over cramped bar any longer and just waiting to head back to Miguel’s place since you were staying there for a week. Feeling like your knees were going to give out from underneath you when he slid his large hand from between your shoulder blades and upwards to squeeze your right shoulder.

Not sure if your hazy mind was from the alcohol or from his actions anymore. Not sure if things would go back to how they were before you’d left when he went to leave sloppy wet kisses on your neck as soon as his apartment door was closed and locked. Not sure if you could look at him the same way after he made you see stars from the comfort of his sheets. Still you couldn’t stop. It felt too good, he felt too good.

“Fuck- felt so fucking good…” He hissed as he pulled out from between your legs, taking a moment to let himself to catch his breath before rolling the condom off and tossing it in the trash can. You didn’t respond, still out of it from the aftermath of experiencing nirvana in the form of drunk sex. Letting out a sigh as you turned to your side and closed your eyes as drowsiness starts to seep into your bones. Feeling the other side of the bed dip before a strong arm came around to hug your waist.

“…Miguel?”

“Yeah?”

“This… was a one time thing right?”

A pause, a heavy sigh before you felt his soft lips kiss the nape of your neck.

“… of course.”

—

A flash of light shined through the darkness of your studio apartment. You didn’t even need to check the notification screen in order to know who it was. Only one person would text you at two in the morning.

Come over?

If you told your high school self that the only time you ever saw Miguel was in the deeps of night while you were tangled in his sheets, she would have thought you were lying. The most fucked up part was that it was starting to affect you mentally, how your best friend had turned into a booty call because of one night from a drunk fuck seven years ago, it was painfully obvious you’d never get to the point where you’d be able to go back to the way you both once were. You couldn’t help but cling to the last broken bits he was willing to give you though. So every time he calls or texts you at random hours of the night since you’ve moved back to Nueva York, you’d show up at his doorstep like you are now.

“I know it’s late, I'm sorry, these Master exams are kicking my ass.” He apologized while letting you in after a few seconds. Closing and locking the front door before gently pushing you against it, his lips already finding their usual spot against the crook of your neck. Calloused hands began to slip underneath the baggy material of your hoodie, his large fingers gently grazing the exposed skin, you’ve learned to stop wearing shirts to these sessions a long time ago. “Need to blow off some steam…”

“Miguel…”The way you’d breathe out his name always made him feel like he had died and gone to heaven, your hands wandering upwards against the black fabric of his tank top. His lips separated from the blossoming red and purple mark they left in their wake so he can pull your jacket off before stripping off his own shirt. Your arms quickly wrap around his neck, any guilt that had been lingering in your mind quickly melted away when his hands ran down to your hips underneath your waistband, thumb fidgeting with the thin fabric of your panties. “Need you-“

“Need you too Cariño.” He muttered before going to place a gentle peck against the edge of your lips, you couldn’t help but let out a small whimper at the movement. You’ve noticed he never kisses you directly on your lips, always on the edge, on your neck or cheek. You would have felt your heart ache if the feeling of your core throbbing when his hand dragged your bottoms down to squeeze your ass wasn’t more overwhelming, lifting you up to wrap your legs around his waist.

Half of the time you two didn’t even make it to the bedroom, finding a spot on the hallway wall or against the kitchen counter. This was one of those times, he stumbled over to the couch, too distracted on leaving hickies all over your chest and dipping his fingers into your wet cunt. You let out a gasp when you landed on the brown leather rather harshly, making the couch move a few inches from its original spot due to the weight of both of your bodies hastily climbing on top of it. He made quick work to strip the rest of your clothes from both of your bodies once he made sure you hadn’t accidentally hit your head. Quickly slipping a condom before lining himself up.

“Fuuuuck-fuck…” He groaned, as he pushed the tip of his cock between your folds. Your mouth falls open in a silent scream from the deliciously painful stretch that he always provides. Giving you a second to adjust to his length and girth before pulling out and slamming his hips against yours, each thrust making your silent whimpers and whines turn into pornographic moans and incoherent babblings. “Love filling you up. You love this cock don’t you?” He taunts, it was so cruel the way the words fell from his mouth but you loved it nonetheless. Nodding rapidly as you gushed around him for the first time tonight.

“Nah uh… need to heard you say it. Use your words.” He smirks, enjoying the plop plop sound that started to quietly reverberate off the walls of his living room. Glancing down momentarily to watch a thin layer of cum that was forming a ring around the base of his cock. “Tell me how much you love it.” He urged.

“Fuck-fuck… love it so much.” You moaned, overstimulated from your orgasm, squirming underneath him just the way he liked. He couldn’t help the way his ego swells at the way you feel apart for him.

“Don’t know what I’d do without you.” He cooed as he propped your leg over his shoulder to get a better angle, his sweet words always messed with your foggy mind. “Such a sweet little thing, all for me.”

“Don’t-don’t say that Mig.” You whined, head turning to the side, as your hand dropped from his chest to drop off the couch. His right hand quickly leaves your hip and runs up to your neck, keeping his grip light as he props your head back to face him with his index finger.

“Aww poor baby, can’t handle when I talk all sweet to her, huh?” He let out an airy half chuckle. Despite the honey-like toned he’d use, the underlying taunt was always present. “Let me make it up to you baby.”

Your eyes rolled to the back of your head as he thrust deeper into your core, making your hips subconsciously jump up to meet his.

“Mig-Miguel, I’m so-so close.” You whimpered and whined, clenching around his length, his hips stuttering slightly as you felt the heat building in your lower belly start to grow with each thrust.

“Cum with me baby… Cum all over this cock.” He groaned.

“Fuck-Fuck.” With one final thrust, you finally came undone around him, his name falling from your lips over and over like a mantra. Miguel followed suit, stopping his thrust while fully inside your cunt, letting out a deep groan as he came.

“Shit… You okay?” He asked once he was able to collect himself enough, climbing off top of you before rolling the used condom off his softing member, picking up his forgotten boxers and placing them back on.

“Mhm…” You nodded, trying to stabilize yourself on shaky arms and legs. Miguel seemed to have noticed, picking up your clothes from the floor and making his way over to hand them to you.

“Let me get you some water.” He said before retreating to his kitchen. The only sound in the air now was the faint noises of him rustling around his cabinets, and the quiet shuffling of clothes. Hating the feeling of putting your legging and hoodie back on due to the thin layer of sweat still on your skin. Once you were decent enough Miguel came back with a glass of water and handed it to you. Mumbling a “thank you” before taking a sip. Miguel cleared his throat as he sat down on the other edge of the couch, eyes cast down, hands rubbing anxiously together, finally deciding to break the steadily growing awkward silence. “Look, (Y/N), I wanted to talk to you about something… something kinda important.”

You raised a brow, noticing the sudden change in his behavior, taking another quick sip before placing the half empty glass on his coffee table. “What’s up?”

He released a heavy sigh as he brought a hand up to scratch the back of his neck, still not making eye contact as he continued. “I’m not sure how to say this, so I’ll just put it out there…” He finally brought his gaze up to meet yours, “We need to stop seeing each other.”

Huh?

“I’m sorry what?” The words came out of your mouth before you could stop, your face quickly filling up with confusion and a bit of disbelief as you stood up. Miguel follows your actions as he puts his hands up in defense, but you continue before he could try explaining. “You can’t just fuck me on your couch then tell me afterwards we need to stop. You know how much of an asshole you sound?”

“I know, I know it makes me sound like an asshole.” He tried to reason with you, going to finally put on his shorts and tank top that were still on the floor. Not feeling like being half-naked during this conversation. “Look, there’s this girl I’ve been seeing and it’s getting pretty serious-“

“A girl you’ve been seeing?” You repeated in disbelief. “You can’t be for real.”

“Well, we never agreed to be exclusive. It’s not like we were going to start dating or anything.”

Ouch.

You had to turn away so they didn’t see the tears building in the corner of your eyes, but even with your face hidden your body language gave you away.

“I know we weren’t exclusive but fuck Miguel.” You shake your head, going to make your way to the door. “I’ve known you since we were five and you’re just gonna throw me away like some old toy?!”

“Hey-no. That’s not-that’s not what I mean, you know that.” He takes a step forward, grabbing your arm before you could get too far. “We can’t sleep together anymore, but we can still be friends.” You couldn’t help the scoff that left your lips, finally gathering yourself enough to pull your arm away and face him again, not caring if he saw the tears cascading down your cheeks. He’s made you cry one too many times, it’s about time he saw what he did to you. “We can still be friends! You’re still my best friend (Y/N)!” He couldn’t help but let his voice come out in more of a panic, a bit more rushed. You quickly shook your head.

“No. No, we aren’t best friends anymore Miguel, we haven’t been in a long, long time. I know that, you know that. So don’t pretend like we are just because your afraid of losing your emotional support fuck buddy.” You finally head toward the door and towards your car in the driveway, not turning to face him as you hear him call your name. “Don’t call me, don’t text me. If you're as serious about this girl as you say you are, you’d do the right thing and block me. Because I’m so tired of waiting around and pretending like one day you’ll wake up and realize I’m in love with you.”

You froze once the words came out, hand still on the car door handle as you came to the realization you finally admitted the secret you’ve been holding for the past ten years. Your free hand going to cover your mouth as you finally turn to look at Miguel, the look of shock from the confession was evident. You shook your head as you attempted to back track.

“Wait, Miguel I didn’t mean to tell you that-it just happened-“

“… You should leave.” His voice suddenly became stoic, his face hardening so it was hard to read his emotions. “This is just helping my case. Leave.” The tears flowed harder down your face as he slammed the front door shut. Leaving you to sob into the emptiness of the night as you finally let all the pain from the last seven years catch up to you.

You weren’t surprised to see your text bubbles turn green the next morning.

—

“I really think this one is it.”

“Me too!”

“He’ll love you in that dress.”

“Aww I can already see the waterworks.”

All you could do was smile, your hands repeatedly smooth non-existent wrinkles as you looked at yourself in the mirror, you looked like a real life princess. After what felt like hours you finally found the wedding dress. You couldn’t be happier.

“Alright Miss future Osborn.” Your maid of honor squealed, finally getting your attention, “You need to get out of that dress, you need to meet up Harry to look over the venue.”

You sighed, as you turned back to admire the white wedding dress one more time. “You’re right, I don’t wanna keep him waiting just cause I can’t stop staring at myself.” You giggled, before heaving to the back.

You and Harry have been dating for four years now, and he had proposed last month during your anniversary. You couldn’t be happier, he treats you like a queen, better than any other Man you’ve ever been in romantic contact with.

Once you had finally finished changing out of your regular clothes, you grabbed your phone out of your purse. Sending a quick text telling him that you found a dress, before doing a quick check on insta, wanting to look at the engagement pictures you posted on your page last week. But the soft smile on your face quickly dropped, like your heart did to your stomach when you checked your activity page.

Miguel.Ohara.99 and 4 others liked your post.

Miguel.Ohara.99 started following you.

1 message request from Miguel.Ohara.99

Fuck.

—

Taglist: @famouscattale @strawberryjuice9 @loser-alert @maomaimao @franceseca-the-1st @scaryplanetdestroyer @miguels-aranita @beezusvreeland @raginghomo62 @miguelbaby @thedevax @vera4luv @alialucille

1K notes · View notes

dilemmaontwolegs · 10 months

Text

Not A Verstappen: Gridlocked {1}

Pairing: Charles Leclerc x fem!driver!reader x Lando Norris Summary: Charles and Lando come to your apartment for the thank you dinner as promised. Warnings: 18+ only, sexual tension, alcohol, touching? WC: 2.4k F1 Masterlist NAV: Sibling Rivalry One || Two || Three NAV: Gridlocked One || Two || Three || Four

Black smoke billowed out of the pan you thought you had turned off and you rushed to toss it in the sink before opening a window. The breeze was a moment too late to clear the air of the dark tendrils snaking higher and they soon reached the smoke detector, the piercing sound of its alarm filling your kitchen.

“Shit,” you cursed as you tried to jump and hit the detector to shut it off but you were just too short. “Double shit.”

A knock sounded at your door and you threw it open, grabbing whoevers hand it was and dragging them inside. “Thank god, hit that fucking thing for me will you?” you asked, realising it was Charles who had arrived on time, unsurprisingly.

His nose wrinkled at the heavy stench of smoke and he rose onto his toes to reach up and turn off the alarm. “You look like you have been, um…creative.”

You smiled at the attempt of a compliment before laughing at the situation. In the cold pan on the stove were the chicken breasts that were meant to be frying and you slapped your forehead as you realised you had turned the wrong element on. “Looks like we are going out to dinner, which is probably safer. I don’t think I could have kept my promise not to give you food poisoning by the looks of it.”

“I’m not dressed to go out,” he said as he looked down at his polo and chinos.

“Are you kidding me? You look like a damn model.”

“Thanks. It’s not easy being this handsome,” Lando said as he walked in the front door that was still open, a bottle of wine in his hands. “I see your cooking skills are as good as mine.”

“Har-har,” you drawled as you reached into the cupboards and got three wine stems out. “Liquid dinner it is.”

“Haven’t you sworn off drinking?” Charles asked as he rummaged around your cutlery drawers, finding the corkscrew for Lando.

“Pfft, that was just for summer break to stop the PR team from riding my ass,” you said with a grin. “Plus, you two won’t let me get into trouble. At least not too much.”

The cork popped open and Charles took the bottle from Lando to read the label. “I don’t think we have anything to worry about,” he laughed as he handed the Prosecco back.

“What?” Lando asked with a frown as he turned it around to see the label. “The lady at the shop said this was good.”

“Sure, for an afternoon at the beach, but it won’t get you drunk.”

You took the bottle from his hands and kissed his cheek to erase the pout on his face. “It is the perfect starter course, and my bar is fully stocked with the hard stuff.”

“No,” Charles sighed as he took the bottle and poured three drinks. “I’m sure there is something salvageable to eat. No drinking on an empty stomach.”

You raised your glass to him. “I wish you luck, my kitchen is cursed.”

He tapped his glass with yours and winked. “I’m a miracle worker, watch me.”

You sat with Lando at the kitchen table as he showed you some photos he had taken throughout the year that hadn’t been posted online, keeping you entertained with stories that would get him in trouble if they ever got out. Every now and then you would check on Charles who familiarised himself with your kitchen, opening and closing all the cupboards and drawers before sighing.

“Admit defeat yet?”

His green eyes narrowed at you from across the room. “Never. I just can’t find any- of nevermind. What is this monstrosity?” He pulled a large jar out of the fridge and grimaced at the sight.

“Crushed garlic,” you said obviously but he grew even more offended by the jar as he held it at arms length away.

“Unbelievable,” he muttered as he opened the lid and sniffed it. “It will do, I suppose.”

“What are you cooking?” Lando asked as he saw the ingredients lined up on the bench.

“Chicken pesto pasta.” He didn’t even look up as he sliced some limes up, muttering that lemons would have been better.

“See, this is what I was looking for,” you said to Lando as you rested your chin on your hand watching Charles navigate the kitchen comfortably. “He cooks for me, you did my laundry, you’re both good looking and funny. That’s what I need from a man, I need the love child of Charlando. I give up. It’s impossible. I’m never going to find that.”

“Okay, this definitely isn’t going to be enough,” Lando said as he took the almost empty glass from your hand and rose from the chair. You and Charles both watched him cross over to the wet bar and tap his fingers along his lips as he debated what spirits to choose. “We need to cheer you up, I’m thinking tequila sunrise or strawberry daiquiri?”

“And music,” Charles added as he diced an onion that had been hiding at the back of your refrigerator for who knows how long. “Not mine, because it’s all depressing.”

“So music and drinks…why don’t we just go out?”

Neither looked happy at your suggestion and they both shook their heads. “I’m not in the mood for a lecture from your brother,” Lando admitted.

Lando plugged his phone into your stereo and some soft pop song started to play in the background as Charles said, “And it's too loud to talk in a club. This is nice, no?”

“I guess the company is half decent,” you teased.

Charles chuckled and beckoned you over with a curl of his finger that had a dollop of creamy pesto sauce on the end. “Taste test.”

Your stomach clenched as you parted your lips for him and his eyes held yours, the moment too intimate to dare break. His lips parted with a silent sigh when your tongue rolled over the pad of his finger, and he took a harsh breath as your lips sealed around it and sucked it clean.

“Hmmm,” you moaned as the flavours coated your tongue and you pulled back, licking your lips as you did. “Oh my god, Charles, that is delicious.”

You couldn’t help noticing how the green of his eyes had been swallowed by his blown pupils or the way his throat bobbed as he swallowed twice before he could muster a response. “Now that I’ve seen your cooking, I’m sure everything else tastes delicious.”

“It’s not that bad,” you said with a laugh as your attention was pulled away and a shot glass was placed into your hand. “I thought we were having cocktails?”

“We will, but,” Lando said as he reached past Charles to grab the salt before he sprinkled a line across his hand. “Tequila first, sunrise later.” He grabbed a wedge of lime next and pinched it between his teeth with a daring curl of his eyebrow.

The food was forgotten as Charles watched you wrapped your fingers around Lando’s wrist before running your tongue across his skin. The grains of salt coated your tongue as you raised the glass to your lips and tipped the liquor back under their heated stares. You swallowed the liquor and inhaled the fiery burn that followed as you eyed up lime waiting between Lando’s lips.

This moment balanced on a knife's edge and you could feel how influential it could be on making or breaking the friendship you had with both Lando and Charles. This was the line in the sand that once you crossed there could be no return.

No one dared to breathe. No one dared to move.

They were waiting for you.

You licked your lips of the salty spirit residue and stepped closer to him. Your fingers trailed up his neck to tease the short hairs on his nape as you pulled his head down to meet yours and you bit the lime, tearing it from his lips as the sour juice ran down your chin.

“You’re a bad influence,” you teased as you wiped away the excess and stepped back.

The tension in the air evaporated with his proud grin and Charles chuckled as he turned back to the pan before it burned for a second time.

“I’m just trying to cheer you up,” he replied innocently.

He made his way back to the wet bar with a little dance that had you laughing again. “It’s working.”

The sunset made the perfect backdrop over Monte-Carlo as you stepped out onto the balcony with a plate in each hand and placed them on the small square table. The music drifted out from the french doors after Lando queued enough songs to last the night and joined you and Charles with the extra strong drinks he had made.

“We should do this more often,” you said as a calm settled within you and you watched the yachts dotting the sea beyond the marina.

“What should we toast to?” Lando asked as he placed your glass in front of you, the cocktail matching the orange skyline.

“Single life?” you offered, earning a snort from him as he dropped into the seat beside you, mirroring Charles on the other side.

“How about the hunt?” Charles joked and you groaned at the reminder. “Since we are all looking for love now.”

“Not me,” you surprised them. “I’ve deleted every dating app from my phone and given up. I might even get a cat to keep me company.”

“I thought ‘a girl had needs’?” Lando teased with a suggestive wiggle of his eyebrows.

“Nothing a little self love can’t take care of,” you muttered to your drink as you took a sip, making Charles choke on his. “What? It’s true. You can’t tell me that you don't use your hand out when you need it.”

“We definitely need to do this more often,” Lando chuckled as he spared a fork full of extremely overcooked pasta.

Charles sent a grin across the table to Lando before their eyes turned to you, a mischievous glint reflecting in both pairs as Charles agreed with a nod.

“Then let’s cheers to that,” you said as you raised your glass.

“To the three of us,” Charles winked, clinking your glasses.

“The three of us.”

The empty plates were neatly stacked and the last rays of light had long disappeared, but you weren’t ready for the night to be over. The air was growing cold and the fading solar lights dotted around the deck were starting to attract bugs, interrupting the peaceful lull in conversation.

“Do you want to stay and watch a movie? You probably shouldn’t drive anyway.” You hoped your question didn’t sound too eager and tried to cover it up with the logical statement. It was needless though as they both perked up at the offer and started to clear the table.

“I’m up for a movie night,” Lando agreed as he took the glasses, leaving Charles to take the plates. “Another round?”

“Yes, please. I’ll meet you on the couch.”

You went to your room and changed out of the jeans and top you were wearing, opting for an oversized white AlphaTauri shirt you often slept in instead, before dragging the quilt off your bed. You switched the lights off around the apartment as you passed them and flopped down onto the couch between the two men who had been quietly chatting. Lando reached for the refilled glasses on the coffee table and handed you yours as you asked, “What are we watching?”

“Nothing sad or Charles will cry,” he said with a little laugh as he helped spread the blanket over everyone.

“And nothing with shooting or Lando will cry,” Charles shot back with his own teasing smirk.

“And nothing with romance or I will cry,” you added as you swiped up the remote and scrolled through the options on Netflix. “Guess that leaves horror. Paranormal Activity?”

You wanted to look away but you couldn’t as the crackling image on the screen only grew darker. You knew what was coming but it still didn’t stop the squeak that escaped your lips or the way your tense body startled at the jump scare.

The guys chuckled as if you hadn’t felt their legs knock yours at the sudden slam of a door and the blanket shifted until you felt a comforting hand on each thigh, resting just below the hem of the shirt. It took everything in you to keep still as their palms warmed your skin and the heat spread to your core and you felt Charles’ thumb start to draw soothing circles.

Under the guise of settling back into your skin after the fright, you laid back into the cushions and stretched your legs out. From the corner of your eye you could see Lando bite his lip as the shift left their hands even higher up your thighs, almost brushing the lace edge of your panties.

“Scared, chérie?” Charles asked, his voice a little deeper than usual.

It wasn’t the horror movie that was causing a fine tremor to work its way over your body, setting every nerve ending alight. And it certainly wasn’t the horror movie that was causing the goosebumps to tingle across your skin.

It had been a long time since a man came so close to you that your core was turning to molten lava without even being touched and you lost the battle to remain still, your thighs clenching together in search of friction. You could feel a second heartbeat throbbing between the juncture and as the blanket slipped down your body your peaked nipples were easy to spot through the thin material.

“Not exactly,” you uttered as Lando’s fingers squeezed your thigh, almost as if he were silently begging you to part them for him.

“You’re shaking,” Lando murmured close to your ear.

“I know,” you whispered as your throat clogged with the pleas for them to touch you, to slide their hands just another inch higher and sate the need your body craved.

You felt the touch of Charles’ shaped beard along your jaw before his lips brushed your ear. “Breathe, chérie. We’ll take care of you.”

His thumb drew another circle and your chest expanded with the softest gasp as you felt the pad of his digit run along the seam of your underwear.

Lando mirrored his friend, his breath hot on your neck where his lips set a trail of scorching fire to your ear. “Will you let us take care of you?”

Click here for part two.

Tagging: @destourtereaux @severerebelearthquake @sunf1ower16 @octaviareina @omgsuperstarg @mvclff1 @alwaysclassyeagle @icantcomeupwithamusicalname-blog @laneyspaulding19 @booknerd2004-blog @mimimarvelingmarvel @chonkybonky @jpg3 @bangtanxberm @secretlyangrymagazine

#charles leclerc x you #charles leclerc fanfic #charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc imagine #charles leclerc x y/n #lando norris x you #lando norris x y/n #lando norris x reader #lando norris imagine #lando norris fanfic #formula one imagine #formula 1 fanfic #formula one fanfiction #formula 1 x reader #f1 imagine #f1 fanfic

2K notes · View notes

mountttmase · 4 months

Text

Still Be Mine

Note - happy new year babies 🩷 thank you so much for all your love this year I really do appreciate you and I hope you enjoy this 🙊 feedback would be appreciated as normal 😏

Pairing - Mason Mount × Reader

Word count - 5.9k

Warnings - angst, smut and fluff

You’d never been a fan of New Year’s Eve. Always wanting to skip the parties so you could stay in and usually due to Masons scheduling arrangements there was never time for a big party. But this year was different.

You were currently in the car on the way to Ben's house. His and Masons fixtures were a little earlier than usual meaning they had time to do what they wanted this year and Ben wanted to throw a party so that Mason could be reunited with all of his ex teammates for a good catch up.

You didn’t mind this at all, itching to see some of your old girlfriends for a catch up too but as you got closer the nerves started to settle in.

You knew what Bens house parties were usually like and you were pretty sure they weren’t the best place to be having kids running around but he’d assure you that Ollie and Tilly would be more than welcome and it wasn't like a normal party of his.

You hadn’t been in the mood for it though as soon as you set off that morning. Driving straight from Manchester to Cobham and quickly stopping to see uncle Lew so you could change and get ready to go straight to the party and also drop Nala off with him so he could take her down to Mason's parents where you would be spending tomorrow.

You were tired and cranky and your new outfit that you loved yesterday now felt uncomfortable and tight. Not sitting how you wanted it too but just one smile and a compliment from Mason made all your troubles disappear into thin air.

To your surprise, it wasn’t like one of Ben's usual parties. The music was at a respectable volume and even though it was busy with most of the players, many had their kids with them and even Ben's parents and family were all there.

Your babies loved uncle Benji like he was a real part of the family. Running straight into his arms as soon as they saw him and it made your heart melt at how happy he himself was to see them. You missed having him around so much now so you knew times like these were extra special.

‘I got you this specially’ Ben smiled after you’d all hugged, walking you over to the fridge and pulling out a giant bottle of appletiser. ‘I remembered it was your favourite. Thought you could drink it out of a champagne glass and then you’ll look like the rest of us’

‘Oh yeah Ben, that’ll look really classy’ you laughed, your hand falling to your swollen belly. ‘Can’t wait to start a rumour that the pregnant lady is still drinking’

‘Yeah maybe you’re right, normal glass for you’ he laughed, pulling one from the cupboard and pouring you a glass. ‘I’ve set all the food up in there too for when the kids are ready and I can pop the tv on if you want’

‘Thanks Ben, I might have to. Tilly will go nuts if she misses Pupstruction’

‘What the fuck is that’ he laughed, clearly not up to date on kids tv shows and you were actually a little bit jealous.

‘I wish I could tell you, all I know is they don’t make shows like when we kids anymore’

Ollie and Tilly were running in soon after, followed by Mason who had the biggest smile on his face and your heart burst at how happy he was. Mason was a person who found joy in being around other people and the delight on his face let you know his was over the moon at being here.

‘You good?’ He asked, wrapping an arm around your waist and kissing your forehead gently and you instantly felt more relaxed.

‘Yeah, everything in?’

‘Yeah, bags are all in the room so we’re good to go’

‘Thank you’ you smiled, feeling him position himself behind you so he could hold your bump in his hands and kiss your neck repeatedly.

‘God guys, not in the kitchen’ Ben mocked just as two girls walked in that you’d never seen before. They were both beautiful and had their eyes on Mason immediately but given your current emotional state you felt your heart sink however Mason appeared to be none the wiser. Still holding you just as before as he rested his cheek on the top of your head. ‘Oh perfect timing. Guys this is Miaya, the girl I was telling you about and this is her friend Josie’ he told you both. Pulling the one stood closest to him into his side and you couldn’t deny you felt a little relief at knowing at least one of them was with Ben. ‘Guys this this Mason and Y/n and these two little cuties are Ollie and Tilly’

Miaya seemed nice, sending you guys a quick wave and you could tell she was a little shy but it was Josie who was making you feel uneasy still. The way she looked you up and down made your skin itch and you almost lost it when she did the same to the kids but it was when her eyes landed on Mason you felt the worst.

You knew that look, and whilst you didn’t think you were a jealous woman when it came to Mason she wasn’t making it easy for you. Mason had never once given you any indication than he’d ever look to someone else but with how self conscious you were feeling tonight you wouldn’t blame him for looking elsewhere and the thought terrified you. Gripping onto Mason even tighter and he must have felt you stiffen as he placed a quick reassuring kiss to the side of your head.

‘Nice you meet you guys’ Mason smiled but before he could say anything else, Bettinelli’s booming voice was shouting for Mason so he reached for your hand. ‘I’ll catch you guys around, I better go see him’ he laughed. Picking up your glass before pulling you into the other room with the kids in tow. ‘That was oddly intense’ he laughed, turning to you with a silly smile but you didn't have a chance to react as Betts was pulling Mason into a hug as Nadia did the same with you.

‘Look at you! You're the most beautiful pregnant lady I’ve ever seen’ she laughed holding you at arms length. ‘You’ve got the cutest bump, I can’t’

‘Don’t I feel like a whale’ you laughed, slightly envious of the way she looked in her dress as it hugged all the right place.

‘Well you look gorgeous’ she smiled sincerely and you felt your eyes sting but thankfully her eyes were on Ollie and Tilly who were standing next to you hand in hand as they looked on at her shyly. ‘Hey guys, don’t you two look smart. All the other kids are in the play room if you wanna join them’ she told them, sending Ollie a reassuring smile as he led Tilly off to play with the other kids and you let them know you’d come and find them soon.

Mason had been stolen by the boys, spending his time catching up with them and sharing stories from Manchester whilst you went and sat with the girls. Being introduced to a few new faces as you laughed and spoke about how this pregnancy had been. Most of them either childless or only with one so they had many questions for you but you were more than happy to answer.

You weren’t sure how long you’d been there but your glass was now empty and you figured you better check on the kids and make sure they weren’t causing any mischief with the others.

Thankfully you could see them playing nicely with the other kids but as soon as Tilly caught sight of you she was up and running over to you. A bright smile on her face just like how she normally looked when you got her from nursery and it made your heart thud at how happy she was to see you.

‘Hungry, mummy’ she pouted, reaching for your hand and Ollie wasn’t far behind at this point, nodding in agreement so you took them to the kitchen. Grabbing the pair of them a drink first before sneaking back into the main room to find Mason.

‘I’m just gonna take the kiddies to get some food’ you told him quietly, touching him on the back of the shoulder before he turned to you with a smile.

‘I’ll come with you’

‘No it’s okay, I got it’ you told him with a smile. Not wanting to pull him away from his friends that he hadn’t seen in a while so with a kiss to his cheek you grabbed Tilly’s hand and ushered her and Ollie into Ben's sitting room where he’d laid out all their favourite snacks.

Much to your dismay, you saw Miaya and Joisie in there, Josie’s eyes lighting up at the sight of you and Miaya gave you a small tight smile but as soon as you heard some shrill giggles you knew it was directed at you.

You let Ollie grab his own food but you knew Tilly needed some help, trying to focus on what she was asking for but a voice, you were presuming belonged to Josie, was getting louder and seemed to be the only thing you could hear anymore. Your tummy sinking with every word she said.

‘I mean does she really think he’ll stick around much longer with her looking like… that’

‘Jo’ Miaya sighed, trying to get her to be quiet but she didn't make too much more of an effort to make Josie be quiet causing her to giggle. Trying to mask it with her hand but you still heard it loud and clear and you felt sick to your stomach. Wondering if you should leave to go and get Mason but you felt a bit silly over reacting to what this random girl had to say about you.

‘I mean I get she’s given him kids but he could have anyone he wants. Like honestly if I was him I’d be ashamed coming here tonight with her looking like that. And those kids too like what must they think? I’d be so embarrassed’

You’d never felt so awful before, tears stinging your eyes as you tried carrying on but it was difficult as she tore you apart bit by bit behind you. Not seeming to want to give up as she giggled away at you and as much as you tried to hold your emotions in you knew you were about to lose it.

‘I’m surprised she even managed to squash herself into those shoes. You just wouldn’t bother would you?’

It was getting too much for you. Your hands shaking as you passed Tilly what you’d got for her so far before you felt a little hand touch your arm and when you looked down, Ollie was looking at you with a concerned expression.

‘Shall we go out, mum?’

‘I think so baby, yes. We’ll go up to our room, yeah?’ you answered. Grabbing Tilly’s shoulder so you could steer her out and over to the stairs but she nearly threw a fit about not getting the snacks she wanted so you let her know she could have them upstairs, you just needed to get out and away from that horrible girl.

You always stayed in the same room when you visited Ben so you quickly shuffled the pair of them inside. Popping Tilly up on the bed and passing her her plate before Ollie took hold of your hand and you almost burst into tears at his expression.

‘Are you okay, mum?’ He questioned, letting you pull him in for a hug when your eyes filled with tears but you were determined not to show him how upset you were.

‘I fine baby, I promise’

‘But those girls-‘

‘It’s okay, it doesn’t matter, yeah?’ You told him. Ruffling his hair before pulling back. ‘Will you look after Tilly a sec? I just need the loo’ you told him and after he’d nodded you dropped a kiss on his forehead before shutting yourself in the en-suite.

You couldn’t even look at yourself in the mirror, knowing if you did you’d start ugly crying so you pulled the toilet lid down and sat on it. Trying to calm your strangled breaths but it was no use. You felt humiliated and their words were replaying in your head on a loop.

Is that what people really thought of you? That you should be ashamed of yourself? That Mason would leave you soon because of how you looked and that your babies were embarrassed of you?

It all got too much for you, covering your face with your hands so you could have a little cry but a knock on the door snapped you out of it.

‘Y/n? You in there?’ You heard Ben call. Quickly making yourself look presentable before letting him in but he saw the distraught look on your face straight away and closed the door behind him. ‘Hey, what’s going on?’

‘Nothing, sorry. Just my hormones playing up a bit I think I’m alright’

‘Don’t lie, y/n. I know somethings up’ he told you with a sad smile before placing a comforting hand on your shoulder. ‘I heard you talking to Ollie just now and he told me someone was mean to you. Who was he talking about?’

‘It’s nothing-‘

‘Please tell me who it is, even if you think I’ll be upset’ he asked and you had a funny feeling he knew what was going on. ‘You guys come before anyone okay? so I don’t care who it is, I’ll sort it’

You didn’t want to tell him and make things awkward but there was no way you were leaving this room if she was still in the house so you dropped your eyes to the floor and played with your fingers.

‘It was Josie, Miaya didn’t do anything but she didn’t exactly defend me either’ you laughed, rolling your eyes. ‘She was just saying some not very nice things about me and how I look’ you told him, trying to laugh it off before you let out a small sob. ‘Is Mase anywhere, I just-‘

‘Shh come here’ he told you, pulling you in for a quick hug and it took all your strength not to break down in his arms. ‘I’ll go get him okay?’

‘Thanks Benji’ you hiccuped, trying to wipe your eyes and not smudge your makeup but from the black marks all over your hands you knew it was ruined by now.

‘That’s alright. I’ll sort it all I promise’. He sighed before leading you out and back to the kids. Sitting yourself next to Ollie who popped his hand in yours before Tilly eventually crawled over to sit on your other side. Clearly feeling the mood had shifted and wanting to hold your hand too and you all sat mostly in silence with them both leaning on your arms until you finally heard Mason running up the stairs and bursting into the room.

‘Hey, you all alright in here?’

‘No, I wanted cake’ Tilly moaned, and you couldn’t help but laugh at her tantrum. She really was her mothers daughter and you couldn’t blame her for missing out on cake since you were quite peckish yourself.

‘Ollie mate, can you take Tilly to go get some cake and then Uncle Ben’s got some sparklers in the garden for you okay?’ Mason told them and they were both quick to get up and rush out of the room. The prospect of cake and sparklers being far too exciting for them but that meant you were left with just Mason and you knew he could read you like a book.

‘Hey, come here’ he whispered, reaching for your hand as you felt your face crumple again. You should have known seeing Mason would have only set you off but you let him pull you up and into his arms. ‘Shhhhh it’s okay gorgeous, she’s gone now’

‘Sorry Mase, I feel like such a wally-‘

Don’t be silly baby, are you alright?’ He asked but you just nodded into his neck. ‘Come here, what did she say?’ He whispered, pulling you over to the bed so you could sit on his lap and once you were comfortable he just about caged you in his arms. Thumb lightly stroking your back as the other held your thigh.

‘Nothing I-‘

‘Please tell me. It can’t be nothing if you’re this upset’ he reasoned and you figured you might as well tell him. Hoping he’d be able to reassure you a little bit as you were feeling the worst you had about yourself in a while.

‘She basically called me ugly, said you’ll leave me soon cause you should be ashamed of me and the kids are probably embarrassed to have me as their mum’ you told him steadily, your voice slightly cracking at the end even though you tried hard to keep calm.

Mason's body tensed and you could feel the anger ripping through him but he kept it inside and just pulled you closer to his body. Letting you sob into his neck before pulling away so he could look at you.

‘I’m so sorry she said that to you baby but it’s all bullshit, you know that don’t you?’ He told you softly. You couldn’t reply, just shrugging your shoulders as deep down you were unsure of yourself but when you felt him tuck your hair behind your ear you looked straight into his soft brown eyes. ‘You’re the love of my life, I could never be ashamed of you’

‘But I’m all fat’ you laughed, your hand on your bump to emphasise your point but he just looked at you lovingly.

‘You’re pregnant babe, not fat’ he chuckled, placing his hand on top of yours as he tried to link your fingers together. ‘You’re sexy as hell to me when you’re like this’

‘Stop it’

‘I’m serious’ he laughed. Pressing a kiss to your cheek. ‘You’re carrying my baby, like do you know how hard it is to keep my hands off you? Every time I look at you all I can think about is what we did to make this happen’

You remembered it too. Mason telling you he wanted a third baby on a family walk and after trying for a while you started to feel the familiar signs that it might be happening. He was so in tune with you and excited about it this time though he managed to predict you were pregnant even before you realised yourself and when it was confirmed and you counted back you were both surprised to find you’d managed to fall pregnant that first night you’d tried.

‘And those kids adore you. You’re their absolute world baby’ he followed on, doing anything he could to try and convince you. ‘I know it’s hard but please ignore that twat. She’s not worth your tears okay?’

‘Okay’

‘And we don’t have to leave this room until you’re ready, okay? I’ll sit with you-‘

‘No mase, I’m fine. You’re here to see your friends not sit with me’

‘Well I’m still gonna sit here’

‘Well then I’m ready to go’ you laughed, standing up and pulling him with you but he was quick to stop you in your tracks and cup your cheeks. Pressing delicate kisses to your face before finally kissing you properly and you felt any sense of stress leave your body as he delicately brushed his lips against yours.

‘No more tears, pretty girl, okay?’

‘Love you, Mase’ you whispered, thankful you had him to settle you back down again and your heart was racing as he smiled down at you.

‘Love you, too’

‘You go ahead, I think I’m gonna change into something else’ you told him just as he was about to pull you from the room but the disappointed look on his face made you squirm.

‘What? Why? Is it because of what she said?’

‘Well no I just…’

‘Sweetheart’ he huffed, placing his lips on your forehead gently. ‘You look perfect. And you know I’d tell you if you didn’t’ he teased. ‘Come on, let’s go back together’ he told you and after a quick wipe under your eyes he was helping you back down the stairs and into the room where everyone else was.

They all seemed to be none the wiser, chatting away with you like nothing happened and you slowly felt yourself start to relax again in everyone’s company.

Mason didn’t leave your side for the rest of the night. Making sure you always had a drink in your hand or grabbing you snacks when you needed them and before long it was almost midnight.

‘I’m just going to the loo’ you told Mason, trying to peel your hand out of his as he seemed insistent on going with you but eventually he gave in. Letting you go by yourself but as soon as you were done and went to leave you were confronted by the person you wanted to see least.

Miaya was standing outside the bathroom door, waiting for you it seemed, as she didn’t look shocked to see you there and barely gave you a second before she started to speak.

‘Hi y/n, sorry I was hoping to catch you. Can we talk?’

‘Oh i um-‘

‘Please, it’ll only be a second. I really want to apologise’ she told you, her face full of remorse so you nodded your head into Ben's utility room for a little privacy. Thankfully she followed but didn’t give you a chance to speak once you were alone. ‘I just wanted to say I’m so sorry for earlier. What she said was awful and I should have stopped her or stepped in and I’m just so sorry if I upset you’

You didn’t want to say it was okay because it wasn’t so you stood playing with your fingers as you weren’t quite sure what to do. You’d never been that confrontational so this situation right now was a tough one for you but thankfully she kept talking.

‘I’d hate for you to think I’m a horrible person, cause I’m really not. And I really care about Ben so much so this whole situation is just a bit shit cause I really wanted you to like me’ she laughed, but you could hear the tears in her voice and when you looked up you could see them burning in her eyes. ‘I don’t even know why I didn’t say anything. I know what she’s like so maybe I’m just used to it but that’s no excuse I’m so sorry y/n’

‘Come on, don’t get upset’ you reasoned, reaching out to hold her shoulder to let you know she’d be fine as in all honesty you didn’t think she was a bad person. She’d just got caught up in the moment but you could tell she was really sorry now. ‘We all make mistakes’

‘I’ll make it up to you I promise’

‘It’s fine let’s just move on yeah? Start fresh with the new year and all that’

‘I see why Mason loves you’ she laughed, wiping her eyes as she sent you a kind smile. ‘Thank you’

‘Come on, Mason will think I’m stuck on the loo if I’m any longer’ you laughed, both walking back into the main room where Mason's eyes found you immediately. Bundling you into his arms so he could kiss your head gently.

Your legs were tired and your back ached but Ben had arranged for some fireworks to go off as the clock struck 12 so Mason stuffed you into his coat and took you outside with everyone else. You were pleased to find Ollie and Tilly running around filled with excitement before sitting down with Ben and Miaya who sent the pair of you a wink. Letting you know he had them and to enjoy yourselves a bit and you smiled as Tilly sat with Miaya as they chatted away.

‘Any New Year’s resolutions?’ You asked Mason, resting your hands on his chest and he’s wrapped his around your waist and his cheeky smile let you know he wasn’t about to be serious.

‘A few, there’s one I really want to stick to’

‘Oh yeah, what’s that?’

‘Remind you how much I love you every single day’ he told you sincerely before pressing a kiss to your nose.

‘You already do that’ you laughed, hiding your face out of embarrassment but he just used this as an excuse to attack anywhere he could with kisses.

‘Well I wanna do it more. The fact that you actually believed what that twat said about you earlier proves to me I don't tell you enough. If I did then you would have never believed them’

‘It's just getting to that stage you know? I’m tired and I ache and I look like a beached whale-‘

‘Stop that’ he laughed, pressing a quick kiss to your forehead before you heard everyone start to count down from ten. Joining in as you looked into Masons eyes and after screaming happy new year into the air you reached up to plant your lips on Masons.

The fireworks in the sky were no match for the ones on your tummy. Both smiling onto each other's lips and you slowly brushed them together and it’s like you could feel his love filling you to the brim. Your fingers and toes curling as your skin tingled and it's like the whole world faded into the background. You couldn’t hear or see or feel anything other than your man and far too quickly he was pulling away from you. Resting his forehead on yours as you smiled at each other shyly.

‘Happy new year gorgeous’ he whispered but before you could reply, the sound of Tilly’s shouts as she bounded over to you broke you apart and Mason was just quick enough to grab her and pull her up into his arms.

‘Happy new year baby’ Mason told her, you both kissing her cheeks as she giggled adorably before you turned, looking out for Ollie. Watching him come over with a bright smile and you pulled him in for a big squeeze and your heart thudded as he reciprocated.

‘Happy new year, Ollie’

‘Happy new year mum’ he told you softly, pulling back so you could both cuddle back into the other two.

‘This time next year we’ll have someone else with us’ Mason smiled, reaching out to touch your bump carefully. ‘Maybe next year we’ll keep it to us six, yeah? Us, Nala and the new baby?’

‘Sounds perfect’ you laughed. Already picturing you all bundled up together in bed and the thought made your eyes sting.

Soon enough it was time to do the rounds, hugging everyone you could and wishing them a happy new year but you could tell Ollie and Tilly had crashed and were on the verge of falling asleep so you all snuck off to put them to bed before they passed out downstairs.

The pair of you weren’t up too much longer. Spending a little more time downstairs with everyone else but the party was dying out with everyone taking their kids home and your legs were killing you so Mason helped you up to your room for the night. Getting you ready for bed before sliding in next to you and with a soft and loving kiss to your lips you both fell asleep.

The next morning you woke up to an empty bed, no sign of the kids or Mason but before you could question it the latter walked back in the room. Hair messy from sleep and you could tell he hadn’t been awake long but the lazy smile he sent your way made your heart thud.

‘Good morning beautiful’ he yawned, pulling back the covers and sliding himself back in next to you before his hand made contact with your bump and you felt the baby kick ever so slightly. ‘Good morning to you too little one’

‘Morning Mase, where are the kids?’

‘Chilly’s taken them out for breakfast and a run about in the park with Miaya, said he’d give us a bit of a break this morning’

‘Oh that’s kind of them’

‘Yeah he comes in handy sometimes’ he laughed, pulling you as close as he could so he could rub his nose against yours and you smiled at how soft he was being with you. ‘You okay mumma?’

‘I’m okay, Mase’

‘You sure?’ He whispered, kissing your cheeks. ‘Cause I’d hate for you to be thinking about what that girl said yesterday still, and I know you are’

You cursed him internally for knowing you so well. Truth be told their words had been playing on your mind as much as you tried not to let it show they’d made you feel more insecure than you ever had.

‘Well it hurt’ you whispered, trying to keep your tone flat as you didn’t want to cry in front of him again but he could clearly read you like an open book.

‘I know baby, but you know they were talking absolute shite’ he whispered. ‘You’re absolutely everything to me, I mean it’ he told you and when you tried to laugh him off he tilted your face up so he could let you know he was serious. ‘Its true. You are the most important person in my life by far and I genuinely wouldn’t be able to carry on without you. And it’s not just because you’re the mother of my children and you take care of all of us but you’re my girl, you know? Even without all that you’d still be mine and I’d still love you just as much’

‘Oh Mase’ you sighed, tears welling in your eyes at his sweet words but he was shaking his head at you lightly.

‘No tears baby, we can’t start a new year with you blubbering’ he joked, causing you to roll your eyes as the tears fell faster down your face. ‘Your mine okay? And I’m so fucking proud to call you that so please don’t ever think any differently’

‘I know, I’m so sorry’

‘Stop saying sorry’ he laughed, rolling you onto your back slightly so he could hover over you a bit and you melted as he stroked your cheek gently. ‘You wanna just head straight home today? My parents will understand if you’re not up for it’

‘No not at all, I want to see them. And we need to get Nala anyway’

‘Well we’ll leave whenever you want’

‘Mase I’ll be fine’ you laughed, your hand touching his forearm that was resting on your chest as bright smiles lit up both your faces. ‘I love you so much’

‘I love you too’ he breathed, a shy smile taking over his face. ‘I can’t believe I was lucky enough to get to spend another whole year with you’

‘Play your cards right and I might let you have another’ you winked. Reaching up to cup the back of his neck so you could pull him down into a heated kiss.

‘We should use this alone time to our advantage’ he whispered against your lips, hooking his leg around yours so he could part them and you couldn't help but chuckle into his mouth.

‘You are so predictable Mr Mount’

‘Would you have me any other way?’

‘No, not at all’ you giggled, sighing in bliss as he trapped your bottom lip between his teeth and carefully moved your underwear to the side so he had access to you.

‘I’ll be careful, okay? And just tell me if you’re uncomfortable’

‘Okay’ you nodded, a breathy moan falling from your lips as his fingers made contact with your clit and the slow circles he was rubbing into you felt like heaven.

‘That alright sweetheart?’

‘Mhmmm’ you breathed, your whole body relaxing instantly at his touch as a shiver ran down your spine.

In the beginning when you were pregnant with Ollie, you weren’t sure how you felt about having sex with Mason while you were pregnant. Wondering if it would feel like there was another person in the room with you but with Mason struggling to keep his hands away from you and your hormones always sending you into a spiral you couldn’t resist. Loving how extra soft and gentle he was with you and right now was no different. Fingers lightly tracing your folds as he kissed you before pulling back to look in your eyes.

‘You’re so beautiful, you know that? All full of me’ he breathed. ‘Gonna make you feel so good’

‘Please Masey’ you begged, your need to feel him making every other thought leave your brain and when he flashed you his cheeky smile you wanted to kiss it off his face.

‘I got you love, it’s okay’ he told you, his hands moving to hold your hips and with a gentle push you knew exactly where he wanted you. ‘roll onto your side for me’

During your first pregnancy Mason turned into a very keen reader. Wanting to know the ins and outs of what the pair of you were about to go through and the most comfortable sex position was one of the first things he looked into. You’d tried a few but as you got bigger the only one that ever worked for you was when you laid on your side and he spooned you but the only issue was you couldn’t look at him as much as you would have liked to.

He made up for it though, pressing gentle kisses to every part of your skin he could access and when you finally felt him pressing against you you shuddered in delight.

‘That’s it baby’ he whispered, getting into a steady rhythm but not going too hard. ‘How’s that?’

‘So good’ you breathed. Hands fisting the sheets as his were all over you and you moaned louder when he hooked your leg up slightly to have more access to you. ‘Faster please, Mase’

You felt him speed up just a touch but you knew he didn’t want to go too overboard with you. In his eyes he needed to be gentle with you, to make love to you, and you couldn’t feel more taken care of if you tried.

You could feel your high building steadily, wanting nothing more than to look at him so you tipped your head back slightly. Yours eyes looking straight into his and the soft smile on his lips made you melt.

‘Mase I’m so close’

‘I am too gorgeous, let go for me’ he whispered into your hair and that was all it took for you to reach your high. The warmth of his body pressed against yours making it feel that much more intense and when you were both finally done you just laid there content in each other's arms. ‘Happy new year to us’ Mason laughed, tucking you side gently and you tried your best to turn so you could give him a quick peck on the lips.

‘Happy new year, Mase’

521 notes · View notes

magicalqueennightmare · 6 months

Text

Not Exactly Lying

Butcher pushes about what exactly happened when he left you to watch after Ben....uh Soldier Boy (Reminder that reader has a nickname/supe name of Blaze due to her power being pyrokinesis)

Part 2 to Not Exactly Babysitting

Cursing, Violence, Alcohol Consumption, lewd acts, NSFW, angry sex, angst (I think that's all)

You were having a hard time keeping up with the news where Annie and Ben were concerned. Every other channel had something containing Starlight or Soldier Boy. You were just trying to stay off the radar. You would text Kimiko or Frenchie when they checked in with you but besides that you hadn't had much contact with any of the boys. Well Butcher had called quite a few times but you always managed to dodge his calls.

You'd been hotel hopping, paying in cash and staying anywhere you could for the simple fact Homelander knew you ran with the boys if he got it into his head that you could be used against any of them? Well you weren't taking the chance. You were supposed to meet Maeve for a drop of cash, she'd been helping you but when she texted instead to tell you she'd dropped the envelope off with Butcher at the office you almost decided to take your chances getting money out of the bank instead.

You walked up the stairs slowly, praying that maybe anyone else would be there also. You would kill to see MM or Frenchie hell even Hughie who you knew would never do anything besides listen to Butcher. You stopped just outside the door and took a deep breath before pushing it open. There was two lamps on so the room was mainly in shadows, Butcher was sitting on the leather couch in front of one of the tall windows working on a bottle of bourbon.

No one else was in the room and you felt your stomach knot. He glanced up at you and half smiled "Hello Luv. I'm guessing you're here for what Maeve dropped off?" You nodded, walking past the empty desks to come to stand in front of him "You, Annie and Ben are making headlines. I don't need that asshole deciding I'm worth going after again" he cut his eyes up at your words. The metal of the pendant he wore was a stark contrast to the black button up shirt he had on.

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

Your eyes flicked down to his chest, taking in the expanse of chest that was visible. Butcher was a lot of things, unattractive was not one of them. "Ben, huh?" You realized your slip up but shrugged nonchalantly "Him and Annie both kind of have Homelander staying on his toes" he nodded, raising his eyes to meet yours "I never did ask how you and him passed the time when I got you to watch after him"

You refused to let yourself squirm under his harsh gaze, you'd faced worse than an interrogation by Billy Butcher. His hazel eyes studied your face and you knew he was looking for the slightest of slip as to if you were lying to him. You reached for his glass which he let you take, quickly downing the rest of the bourbon. "I read a few books, he watched a few movies. We went through like six takeout place menus and then I took the bed and he took the couch"

-----------

He nodded before standing up. You tracked his movements the entire time, stepping back a half step to give a bit of room between the two of you. The height difference and the way your stomach flipped at the look in his eyes made an entirely different face flash through your memory. "Can I ask one thing then Blaze" you raised an eye at him calling you Blaze instead of your name or a simple Luv or sweetheart. "Ask Butch"

He took a step towards you and you forced your feet to remain in place. You weren't in any actual danger from Billy, you knew that for a fact. He was standing over you, your faces mere inches from each other as he asked "Why was there scorch marks on the bed?"

You knew your features were schooled but your mind raced. Damn Ben had promised he'd make a believable lie. "Don't know, must have had a nightmare" he nodded "That's what he said too" you shrugged "See? So what's your issue here Billy? What's the attitude and the whole sitting in a darkened room waiting on me to show up?" He took a deep breath "Did he hurt you?"

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

You felt yourself deflate, the anger you'd felt building quickly dissolved. That was why he'd called you so much, why he had others checking in so much. You shook your head "No Billy. Ben didn't hurt me" He nodded slowly "Did ya fuck that cunt?" Damn, that anger of yours managed to flare right back up in that instant "What?"

He took another step towards you, close enough you weren't sure if the bourbon you tasted was on your own tongue or if it was from his breath. You felt your power threaten to flow out and it took everything in you to reign it in as you said "So let me get this straight, you haven't sought me out face to face in weeks then you sit here all melodramatic and acting like you care if I'd been hurt just to in turn ask me if I fucked him?"

He gave you a slight smirk "I do care about you luv. That's why I asked if he hurt ya. But I know ya too, if ya hadn't fucked him you would've already swung on me" your hands were practically trembling with how angry you were, flames began to dance across your fingertips. "Since when is it any of your business what I do Billy? As long as I answer when you call that's all you give a damn about right?"

He grabbed your hand and you started to snatch away, despite your anger you didn't want to hurt him but the flames weren't effecting him even as they danced over his skin. Your eyes went from your hand to his face "What the fuck did you do?" "Give us an edge over Homelander. Make sure that bastard burns for what he did to Becca, what he did to you"

You snatched away from him finally, shaking your head "You took that temp v shit Annie told me about" He smiled "It works" You shoved him back with both hands on his chest, he slid backwards but not as much as he should've had he not been using that shit. He was a supe, temp or not. Never thought you'd see the day.

"That shit is experimental, you don't know what the fuck it could be doing to your insides! Billy it could fucking kill you!" The bastard had the nerve to shrug one shoulder and throw your own words back at you "Since when is it any of your business what I do?"

Without thinking you swung on him and connected a hard punch to his jaw. He stumbled just slightly and rubbed a hand over his jaw "Damn I'm glad I've never pissed you off bad enough before, would've broke my damn jaw" "I should break your fucking jaw! God dammit Butcher you know better than to fuck around with bullshit from Vought!"

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

He smirked "I don't know I've been fucking around with you for a while now" you started to swing on him again but he caught your wrist. You stared him down and noticed how his eyes flicked down towards your lips, was this turning the asshole on?

"That what the issue is here isn't it Butch?" He raised an eyebrow in question so you pushed "You're not mad I fucked Ben, you could give a damn less as long as it was consensual. You're mad I fucked him and turned you down when you got back that day. You're mad that had you kissed me you would've been tasting Ben's cock" considering he still had your wrist you decided to see how far you could push him.

You used your free hand to slip around his neck, pulling him closer to you "That the problem Billy? Do you want to fuck me so bad that you'd go through all the dramatics instead of just asking for a fuck? Or are you worried I'll be comparing you to Ben, thinking about his cock while yours is inside of me"

A sinister grin slipped onto his face "Luv I'd fuck the thought of good old soldier boy right out of ya" "Don't think you're man enough for the job" you raised an eyebrow as you taunted him.

He dropped your wrist in favor of slipping an arm around your waist, pulling you to his chest "Say what you want here Blaze" you pulled him down to where your lips were almost touching "At the moment? I want you" he smirked slightly before his lips crashed against yours in a searing kiss.

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

He groaned into your mouth when you tugged roughly at the hair at the back of his head, deepening the kiss. Both of his hands went to your hips pulling a gasp from you when he slipped them under your ass and easily lifted you into his arms. Billy had always been strong as hell but the temp v made it where lifting you was as easy as lifting a feather. You wrapped your legs around his waist, never breaking the kiss as he walked backwards to the couch he'd been sitting on and dropped you roughly onto the cushions.

You pulled him down with you, fumbling for the buttons on his shirt while he found the hem of yours. The two of you broke away from each other long enough for Billy to toss his shirt across the room then pull yours over your head and toss it as well. The look in his eyes darkened even more as he looked down at you, the chain around his neck dangling as he left another kiss against your lips before then across your jaw to attack your neck, kissing and biting across the sensitive skin there in a way that had your hips bucking up against his.

"Easy luv. Don't want ya screaming my name just yet" he muttered against your skin and you swallowed twice before biting back "Don't flatter yourself Butch" when his lips found your clothed breast he bit down harshly on one of them causing you to bite into your bottom lip in an effort to not make any sound yet.

He glanced up at you as he pushed the cloth down off your breast, exposing the skin to his lips. He gingerly kissed the area he'd bit maintaining eye contact with you "I know you better than that cunt ever could. I know everything you like and just how to get you off" You moved your hips impatiently "Less talking" he chuckled darkly as he kissed down your stomach stopping just shy of the waistband of your jeans.

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

He unbuttoned your jeans and tapped your hips so you would raise them off the couch far enough he could slip your jeans off along with your panties. He gave you one of those smiles you'd always hated and loved from him before he lowered his mouth to your core.

The first lick was tentative, teasing but when the bastard managed to pull a whimper from your lips he gripped your hips roughly, holding them down to the couch and effectively keeping them spread. "Easy Butch. You have supe strength" you reminded him breathlessly and his grip loosened just a bit before he attacked your clit, licking and sucking the spot that made your eyes roll back into your head.

You moaned his name as he worked you closer to that edge and damn him when that building tension finally burst and your legs began to shake he didn't slow his movements any. Before you could come down fully from one orgasm he slipped two fingers in along with his tongue and found that spot deep inside of you, curling his fingers to tease over it.

"Fuck Billy" you moaned, pleasure making your vision go soft around the edges as another orgasm washed over you. You felt flames flicker to life on your fingertips but Billy simply moved his hands from your hips to your hands, smothering the flames with his skin as he worked you through your orgasm then finally broke away from your body.

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

You stared down at him feeling your entire lower half quivering from his touch "God damn you Butcher" he ran his thumbs over your hands, a slight smile slipping onto his face "You are always such a sweet talker Y/N"

You groaned flipping your hands up to grip his wrist "You want sweet talk? Get your pants off and fuck me like you mean it" he didn't say another word, simply leaned up far enough to kick his pants off then was moving back up your body to catch your lips in a rough kiss that was all teeth and tongue.

You felt his hard cock pressing against your thigh and reached down between your bodies to run your fingers across him, he broke away from your lips to bury his face into your neck "Like that luv"

You wrapped your hand around him, lining him up with your opening "Fuck me Billy" when he pushed into you a low moan escaped you both "Feel fucking amazing" he cursed as he started to roll his hips against yours, testing to see if you were ready for him to move. When your response was to wrap your legs around his waist that must have been the go ahead he needed because he pulled almost all the way out just to slam back into you.

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

He gave you a few hard thrusts but when he moved his hips just right the angle meant the head of his cock had found that spot inside of you. He bit down on your neck as he groaned "There's no way you're coming again" you couldn't exactly form a coherent response so you simply moaned "Fuck, just don't stop Butch"

You were so damn close, that familiar knot began to build in your stomach and when Billy slipped a hand between you to rub tight circles onto your clit your vision went white as another orgasm washed over you.

He fucked you through that orgasm and when your head cleared you could feel that he was holding back. You reached a hand up to cup the side of his face, nails grazing his beard "Fuck me harder Billy. You know me, I'm not gonna fucking break. I want you to come"

"Tell me if it's too much?" He asked through gritted teeth and you nodded. His thrusts got harder and deeper, he hooked your legs over his arms giving himself an even better angle. You knew he was close by how his thrusts began to stutter and could feel yourself heading for another orgasm.

When he finally came, burying himself deep inside of you the feeling of him finding his release was enough to shove you over that edge a fourth time.

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

He was holding his weight on his arms and your lower half to avoid crushing you as both of you worked to catch your breath. He leaned down to press another kiss to your lips before pulling out. You groaned at the loss of contact but gave yourself a few breaths before you sat up looking around for your clothes.

Billy watched you as you gathered your clothes and headed for the bathroom. You weren't expecting meaningful conversation but neither of you spoke a word.

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

Once you were cleaned up and fully dressed down to your boots you walked back out of the bathroom to find Billy standing just outside the door. He had a big envelope in his hand and held it out "I care enough that I don't like the thought of someone hurting you. We may need you when this all comes to a head" You took the envelope and nodded "If Ben's certain he can burn the compound v out that asshole it would be my pleasure to be there when he dies"

He nodded and stepped closer to you "Watch your back and if you need anything call" You half smiled "Is this where I'm supposed to believe you'd answer?" A look of almost guilt passed through his eyes "Am I that bad you think I wouldn't help you if you needed it?"

You shook your head "No Billy. I just know if it comes to vengeance for Becca or helping me I come second. We all know that and have for years. I don't take it to heart Billy. It just is what it is" you kissed his cheek before turning to walk out.

You heard him call himself a cunt under his breath but kept walking. You needed a shower and some sleep.

The next night you were nearly asleep when your phone started ringing. You fumbled for it half expecting to see Frenchie or MM's caller id. When you didn't recognize the number you answered it with a cautious "Hello?"

Ben's voice hit your ears "Y/N, we need to talk" you swallowed hard "Face to face or over the phone good?" You asked and he said "Can you meet me at Butchers office?" You nodded then thought about the fact that you were on the phone "Yeah. Meet ya in twenty" then hung up

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

You hadn't expected Ben to look so damn normal. He was wearing jeans, a black t-shirt under a leather jacket with boots. He was leaning against the doorway and pushed off when he saw you "Thanks for coming" you nodded then motioned at the door "I have a key if you wanna go in?" He shook his head "I found something out and it only seemed right to tell you"

You nodded "What is it?" He seemed almost nervous? Which was weird in itself. "They did a lot of experiments on me, took samples of everything. I didn't know what it was for until me, Butcher and Hughie went after Mindstorm" "ok?" You asked and he took a deep breath "He's my kid" "Who?" You started to ask but stopped dead in your tracks, the icy realization hitting you hard.

You stumbled a few steps back from him "That son of a bitch is your son?" He reached for your arm but flames flicked up it, your powers trying to protect you without you even trying "Blaze I'm not going to hurt you" you shook your head "Your kid already hurt me enough. Are you turning on Butcher? On all of us? Are you gonna go save your rapist son?"

He shook his head "Hell no. For one, I'm a man of my word, I said I'd help take him down and I will. For two, I've seen the scars of what he did to you. I'm going to kill him son or not but I wanted you to know" "Why?" You asked concentrating on snuffing the flames out on your skin as he shrugged "Just felt like I should" you nodded slowly "What now?"

"I'm headed back to the hotel I'm crashing at. Are you safe to get back to yours?" You nodded "Yeah" he reached for your arm and this time you let him. When his fingers closed around your arm he used the other hand to brush your hair back out of your face "You'll see him dead. I promise" you finally met his gaze, those green eyes holding you in place "I'll hold you to it" he almost smiled at your words "I wouldn't expect any less out of you"

@deans-spinster-witch

@what-the-hellamidoing

#billy butcher x you #billy butcher x female reader #billy butcher x reader #the boys fanfic #the boys fandom #previous #soldier boy x female reader

409 notes · View notes

thebiggerbear · 4 months

Text

Soldier Boy x Reader - Prompt Response - "I hate you." "You have a weird way of showing that."

Summary: You're pissed that he put himself at risk yet again.

A/N: Prompt from @creativepromptsforwriting (#941). This was too much fun to play with. Soldier Boy is something, that's for sure lol. Hope this is alright.

Thank you to my beta Em for her services. You rock, girl!

Pairing: Soldier Boy x Female!Reader; Soldier Boy x Female!Supe!Reader

Warnings: mentions of violence; mentions of sex; implied sex; Soldier Boy being himself; language (I guess?)

Word Count: 1881

SB Taglist: @heartlessdelusions; @nancymcl; @brightlilith

"I hate you." "You have a weird way of showing that."

<-->

You stormed into the suite you and Soldier Boy shared in Vought Tower. The supe strolled in after you, a scowl on his face as he shut the door behind him.

You waved around your hand and suddenly, a glass flew out of the cabinet, landing on the counter. A bottle of the finest whiskey you owned made its way from the bar as ice cubes from the fridge settled softly into the glass. Once the whiskey was poured and the bottle was safely settled beside it, you held out your hand and the drink slowly fit itself into your palm. You took a sip, letting the liquid travel down to the pit of your stomach, and relished the fire it stoked; it was a fire that had already started during your mission.

“Got one of those for me, doll?”

You scoffed and walked away from the kitchen—away from him. “You’ve got working limbs. Use them and make it yourself.” You didn’t need to turn around to know that that response pissed him off. Well, too damn bad; you were pissed as well.

You headed into the bedroom and, heaving a deep breath, you began to take off your gear. Soldier Boy came in behind you, but you refused to turn around.

“Come on, you’re making a big deal over nothing.”

“Nothing?” You spun on your heel, glaring at him. “You could have been killed, Ben!”

He was glaring right back at you. “Yeah, well, I wasn’t. I did what I had to do to take that fascist fuck down.”

You let out a frustrated huff as you slammed your gloves down onto the dresser next to you. “You are the most stubborn, pig-headed jackass I’ve ever met! You just refuse to hear what I’m saying to you!”

Hands grabbed onto your hips and spun you around, bringing you face to face with a very turned on Ben. Of course. You knew he loved it when you would get angry since he could “fuck it right out of you,” as he’d once told you when you’d asked why he enjoyed riling you up so much. “Best fucking ride I get to take,” were his exact words. He’d given you a salacious grin and then that deep laugh when you’d smacked his bare shoulder. The action didn’t, and wouldn’t, hurt him in the slightest; in fact, he’d pulled you closer and you had taken the opportunity to run your fingers through his sweaty locks.

Ben leaned in to kiss you, thinking things were about to pop off once again (he was pretty sure he’d never seen you this pissed off before and he wanted to skip the yelling altogether, get right to the fun part), but you prevented him from doing so. The impatient frown you’d expected was in place and you cupped his cheeks to meet his eyes. He knew this was a sign that you wanted him to really listen to you.

“Ben, you can’t keep doing things like this,” you told him in a softer tone but laced with as much firmness as before. “You’re not invincible, you know that.”

His lips lifted up into a smirk. “Pretty damn close, though.”

You let out a sigh of frustration and decided you’d had enough. A bluish white haze came over your vision and you saw Ben’s eyes widen as your palms began to glow. You showed him your perspective of the day’s events: how you’d watched the missile launched by the townspeople, heading straight towards the building he was in; how you’d been unable to stop it but still slowed it down enough so that more people could get out of there; how everyone had been clear except him and the asshole dictator and their regime that he’d been ordered to kill; how you’d screamed for him to get clear because you couldn’t hold it back much longer; how you’d finally collapsed because you had no juice left, only able to helplessly watch as the weapon slammed into the building. You let him feel your heartbreak, your grief, your pain from thinking he was dead. And then you shared with him the massive relief you felt once he managed to dig his way out, dirty but unscathed nonetheless—and then your anger once he told you he’d heard you yell for him but he had to take down the dictator. He chose to stay inside, knowing he could very well die, and he was okay with that. He simply snorted at the idea that he should run for cover, for safety, and that enraged you.

You ended this viewing with memories you swore you’d never show him (but would if that’s what it took to get your point across). You both watched as you first met—your apparent disgust towards him; your perception of him changing over time; the first time you’d let him into your bed, how you two grew closer; the look on his face when you demanded exclusivity or you’d walk after you’d found him with a receptionist from the 28th floor willingly on her knees; the contentment you felt being partners with him both inside the job and out of it; your worry for him each time he separated from you on a mission; the threats you’d made to Stan Edgar if he ever tried to have another Nicaragua happen again and the hell you’d unleash if he did; the tenderness you watched him with as he slept after having more nightmares; your compassion for him the one time he’d mentioned his father to you; the enjoyment of spending time with him watching things from the past and watching him laugh or enthusiastically tell you about that time, and finally, the kicker — the love you’d started to feel for him. You moved your hands away, the glow disappearing as did your haze, and you turned away from him. You hadn’t meant to show him that last part or let him in that deeply. You had been waiting for the right time, which you were pretty sure would be never, but when your emotions ran high like they did today, it was harder to keep everything behind the wall you usually kept in place.

Instead, you quietly cleared your throat and decided to act as if he hadn’t just heard those last thoughts. “You get it now? How dangerous that was? How dangerous it is every time you do some stupid crap like that?”

He gripped your chin and forced you to meet his gaze again.

“Ben, you can’t keep—”

He cut you off by leaning in and kissing you. Instead of turning it dirty like he usually did or ramping it up, he pulled back after a minute and stared into your eyes. “I do, too, you know,” he murmured.

You were afraid to ask. Still, you had to know. “Yeah?”

He ran his thumb tenderly over your bottom lip. “Yeah.” You studied him as he studied you in return. For once, you didn’t see any hint of amusement, bullshit, or even lust. He was telling you the truth.

You lifted a hand to run your fingers through his hair, which made him shut his eyes halfway; you knew he liked it when you did that. “Then you can’t keep doing things like this.” You wrapped your arms around his neck and he lowered his forehead onto yours. “I thought you were dead today,” you let out in a broken whisper. He had really scared the shit out of you… You had been beyond devastated for those few minutes.

“I’m right here in front of you, sweetheart,” he reassured you, giving you a sweet smile that you only saw when it was just the two of you.

“But what if—”

“I’ll be more careful from now on,” he promised, kissing you once more. He then grinned wolfishly. “So, do those magic hands of yours work both ways?”

You knew they did but you’d never told him that. He’d only seen you use them to insert images sometimes into your targets to paralyze them or make them vulnerable, but you’d never actually used them on him before. “They can,” you answered carefully. “But I don’t usually do that. I don’t like reading someone’s thoughts without their consent.”

“So all this time we’ve been rolling around, you’ve never once tuned in?”

“No,” you insisted, offended and moving away from him. “I can only imagine the jizz-soaked apocalyptic ride through unforgettable hell that would be. There probably isn’t enough alcohol in the world to try and wipe those memories from my mind.”

He caught your wrist and gently placed your hand against his bearded cheek. “Read mine now.”

“Ben,” you pleaded. “Please don’t make—”

“Trust me.” He leaned in closer. “Read ‘em.”

You weren’t sure you wouldn’t be retching after this. He’d literally just learned you loved him and he implied he felt the same, so if he showed you the highlights of his glory days, you swore you’d nut punch him after you got sick and then force him to relive your own highlights and how much you very much still enjoyed those from time to time. Usually, of course, when you were alone in the shower.

You took a deep breath and opened the connection. You were suddenly flooded with images of your greatest hits: him going to town on you and being merciless, making you cry out his name in passion; the furniture you’d broken during your escapades and the walls you’d cracked, even one floor you’d broken through (right into the middle of a table being used for a board meeting but that didn’t stop either of you—if anything, Ben enjoyed everyone watching him give it to you and making you almost feral in chasing your high); you taking charge and putting him on his back, your eyes having a bluish white glow as you smirked wickedly down at him before taking what was yours and truthfully had been yours since you’d said you wanted him all to yourself. You could hear your cries and moans echoing in your ears along with his grunts and yells and dirty talk you both loved. You could hear other sounds too—sounds that made your cheeks warm—and you could feel the lust and heat rising within you as that same bluish white haze settled upon your vision.

You suddenly broke the connection. His brow furrowed in confusion before you growled out, “Suit off. Now.”

His typical smirk returned as he began to undo his chest plate.

“Not fast enough.” You waved your hand and Ben’s suit undid itself at the same time yours did. The shield planted itself in the corner where it usually sat while the clothes situated themselves beside it. Both of you were stark naked but that wasn’t enough. You flicked a finger and Ben was immediately shoved back onto the bed, right where you wanted him. You clambered up on top of him and positioned yourself, his hands on your hips to help you, when you leaned down to look into his eyes.

“I hate you.”

His grin was wide, knowing you definitely didn’t mean it. “You have a weird way of showing that.”

You snorted and kissed him, taking what you now knew was undoubtedly yours.

#soldier boy x supe!reader #soldier boy x reader #soldier boy x you #soldier boy x y/n #soldier boy x female supe!reader #soldier boy x female reader #the boys fanfiction #soldier boy #the boys #prompt response #the boys fandom #soldier boy fanfiction #jensen ackles #jensen ackles character #soldier boy x supe!female!reader #supe!female!reader #thebiggerbear

351 notes · View notes

smileyerim · 1 year

Text

the urge to kiss your wine stained lips

The lines are blurring between friends and lovers and you wouldn’t mind taking advantage of it, leaning in closer until you can taste the gin cocktail on his tongue.

pairing: haechan x reader

genre: fluff, suggestive (MDNI!), slight angst

length: 3.5k

warnings: heavy makeout, reader gets tipsy

net tags: @kflixnet @neowritingsnet

happy early 300 followers (still 20 away!)

You’re not naive. Okay, well, maybe you are but that’s not the point here. The point is that your relationship with Haechan is something you care about. Cherish, even. So much so that the idea of screwing it up with him is terrifying. So terrifying that you feel like running away any time you feel those little sparks fly through you any time he does anything that could be perceived as anything other than friendly.

You’ve heard the warning, that guys and girls can’t just be friends but you never bought into it, using your friendship with Haechan as proof. That is, until he got his dick sucked for the first time and dyed his hair pink. He gained such an attractive confidence and his regular teasing jokes started to feel more like flirting and suddenly everything you used to find endearing about him became straight up torturous.

The worst part of it all is that you aren’t just attracted to the new Haechan, you have grown real life big girl feelings for him too. The scary ones, the friendship ending ones. The ones you’d never have the courage to confess to him. The ones you desperately hope he reciprocates but aren’t quite sure if he does.

It’s all come to a head tonight. Of course it does, your hormones are insane and he just got his roots touched up and his hair is styled in a perfect quiff.

Fuck his hairstylist.

You’re scowling, thinking about the damned attractive man in front of you as you down your final sips of red wine in your glass.

“Woah,” he grabs your wrist and that makes you want to groan. “What are you going so fast for? I’m not done yet and you’re already on your second glass.”

There’s a reason for your sudden affinity for binge drinking, but you can’t tell him. He had grown interested in sophisticated life skills recently for some godawful reason and decided tonight was the perfect night to show off his new cooking skills to you.

So now you’re here in your kitchen that you’ve never so much as turned your oven on in, while your “best friend” flies around in an apron making you a meal.

Goddamn. He looks so fine.

You sink, dropping your glass down onto the counter you’re sitting on beside you.

“Bad day I guess.” You lie, swinging your feet back and forth.

He chuckles an extremely attractive chuckle, “Cacio E Pepe will make it all better.” you frown at that, you’ve never even heard of such a dish but it sounds amazing and totally not something that your best friend would know about either.

With the courage of a wine glass behind you, you allow your curiosity to get the best of you.

“Why are you doing this anyway?” You ask, words slightly mumbled from your tipsiness. With a soft groan you pull the cork out of the wine bottle you were supposed to share with him with no difficulty preparing to pour another glass.

He frowns, his eyes not leaving the pan as he stirs the pasta, perfectly pretending not to have heard the cork pop.

“What do you mean, cooking for you?” He asks.

You take a sip, “No, the learning to cook thing. Why? Trying to impress girls?” You try to hide your bitterness but you aren’t sure how well you’ve done it. You take another sip.

He looks at you this time and you want to hide.

He pauses for a minute, an unreadable expression on his face before he looks back down to his pan and says softly, “Something like that.”

You scoff and roll your eyes at that, the jealousy burning alive at the idea that he’s using you as a trial run.

“Well, thank whoever she is for making you want to get your act together.” You jump off the counter and brush past him on your way to the fridge.

Bending over, your head half in the vegetable drawer looking for the gin you keep stocked for nights like these.

“So I’m your fake girlfriend for the evening?” You ask, avoiding his eyes as you shuffle through your fridge.

He giggled to himself at your comment before saying, “I guess so.”

“What was that giggle for?” You tease, poking his shoulder, making him rock a bit and let out another chuckle.

“Nothing.” He says casually before grabbing the pepper grinder and twists, adding his own flair as he flicks his wrist.

Fuck, you’re going to go crazy. If he was anyone else you’d make fun of him for the stupid moves he’s pulling clearly in an attempt to impress you. The issue with that, of course, is that you want him to want to impress you.

So you draw your attention to the cocktail you’re stirring up for him, your own little sophisticated life skill you picked up around the same time Haechan began cooking.

Something about all of this feels insanely domestic and it’s comforting. As selfish as it sounds, you don’t mind stealing the memories from Haechan’s future girlfriend. It’s a life you wouldn’t hesitate to steal from her provided the chance, too.

You squeeze the lemon peel once to spritz the glass before pouring in the spirits and taking your knife to the lemon to curl a perfect twist for his drink.

Satisfied with the cocktail you’ve created for your fake boyfriend (gag, by the way. You’ve never been into cute stuff like this. Of course, until now.) you turn around, placing a hand on his shoulder to grab your attention and hand him the glass.

He smiles down at the glass and then once he’s caught your eyes he says, “Thanks, fake girlfriend for the evening.” His arm loops around your waist, pulling you into him as he plants a delicate kiss on your cheek.

Your brain goes haywire as he doesn’t let you go, taking a sip of the drink. You’re not quite sure what to do as you stand, slightly stunned by the proximity.

Lowering the glass from his lips, he smacks them together and grows a thoughtful frown on his face, “This is your best one yet.” He says looking into your eyes again with a glimmer.

Your stomach drops the moment your eyes lock. And as if he has some sort of insane agenda, his sparkling eye winks at you before letting go to give his attention back to the pan in front of him.

Your wine is calling your name again as you try to will away the blush that’s definitely arisen on your cheeks.

As much as you probably shouldn’t, you pop the cork and top off your glass, situating yourself back up on the counter to watch him again.

You sit quietly and sip, watching his every move. Every once in a while he’ll sneak a glance out of the corner of his eye, a smirk growing on his lips watching you turn your gaze quickly elsewhere as to pretend you weren’t just staring at him.

He’s getting confident, aware that he’s had some sort of effect on you as he pulls out his tricks, gallivanting around the kitchen, faking a French accent as he explains the ingredients to you.

Your face is warm with flush from the wine you’ve been drinking all night and a permanent small smile is on your face as you watch him, eyes low with relaxation.

Maybe it’s the wine, or the “fake girlfriend” title, or the intimacy of the moment that boldens you to flirt the way you do next.

“We should do this more often.” He looks at you, surprised by your first words in a while.

“I cook for you all the time!” He fakes offense and that leads you to laugh and stretch out your leg to kick his hip.

“Not ramen, but this sort of romantic dinner thing.” You half speak into your wine glass, the embarrassment catching up to you but but enough to prevent you from saying it all together.

“Ooooh,” he teases, shifting his weight from one hip to another, “you like the romance, huh?” He giggles and with a smile he attempts to catch your eye.

You blush outright this time, the butterflies in your belly erupt from their cage, sneaking up your sternum when you make eye contact. Quickly, you look away and giggle.

“Shut up.” You whisper, both hands on your wine glass in your lap. You stare down and try and preoccupy your thoughts with counting the bubbles that come to the surface, playing with the overhead light reflection in the effervescent pale yellow.

Thankfully, Haechan does shut up this time and you watch him again, this time he’s lost his playful edge and you feel the tipsiness rock you back and forth, setting your glass down beside you. Maybe it is time to slow down, you don’t want to forget tonight.

He looks more pensive as he continues, he’s standing up straight and is looking straight ahead at the pan. It worries you how when a song you know he despises comes on shuffle and he doesn’t move to change it or complain to you how it’s still on your playlist although you know he doesn’t like it.

The butterflies have settled down probably a bit too much, as you feel a sinking feeling of embarrassment that you spoke too candidly earlier, the flush on your face taking on a new meaning.

“Y/N,” he says with a small voice, looking over to you.

“Yeah?” You croak out, watching with wide eyes as he looks you up and down. You gulp when his eyes linger a little too long on your chest. What has gotten into him?

He drops the wooden spoon in an act you weren’t expecting one bit and traverses the 3 steps over to stand in front of you, his hips inches away from your knees.

His hands find your knees and it feels like fire as he pushes them apart to make space for himself between them. While he’s doing this his gaze is locked on you. Well, your lips, that is. You swallow thickly, trying to figure out his motive as his hands trail farther up your legs and finding their home eventually on your hips. You’re still sitting quite stiff, until he looks into your eyes as if to ask permission. When you don’t protest, he moves in closer and closer until your lips are finally together.

The sparks that are present every time he touches you seem so small compared to the absolute lightning you feel as he kisses you. It’s slow at first, his soft lips moving against yours gently and carefully. He’s holding back in a way you wish he wouldn’t, your hands moving to find the back of his head as you kiss him harder.

He takes the hint, his hands holding you just a bit tighter as he licks into your mouth. You can’t help the moan you let out, absolutely shocked at your own reaction. This is your first kiss with your best friend. Yet you can’t seem to hold it together.

Unsurprisingly, he can’t either as his hands move down just a bit further to tease at touching your ass. You move off his mouth to trail kisses down to his neck where you begin to suck and lick. He’s panting in your ears, his hands grabbing a full handful now.

“So, uh, Y/N,” he says, and you hum in response not picking up on his tone. You’re on a mission you don’t particularly wish to be taken off of.

You hum, moving your hand to his hair and kissing him again, humming to urge him to go on.

“Can I tell you something?” He says and you lean back to get a proper look at him. He looks unbelievably sexy, but you have to ignore that for the slightly worried look behind his eyes. This is not the same man that boldly started this make out session with you. This is Donghyuck, your best friend of 9 years.

“Yeah.” You say, your hands intertwining behind his head, forearms on his shoulders.

“I don’t want to be your fake boyfriend.” He breathes out, avoiding eye contact and looking back down at your lips as he begins chewing on his own.

“Oh?” Your confidence takes over as the butterflies are released from their cage and flutter upwards out of your belly and light up your body in a strange tingly feeling.

“What do you want to be then?” You whisper, eyes wide waiting for him to look back up at you. He does, but only in short sequences as his eyes find yours and then back down. He’s holding his breath, you can tell by how his fingers that were dancing across your skin before have stilled uncomfortably.

He’s taking too long, you decide, so you make the executive decision to get back on track with the original plan by pulling on the back of his neck to join your lips again.

It’s the right call obviously as he kisses you back almost immediately and the tension from the moment before is expressed through strong squeezes of your thigh and ass flesh as his tongue enters your mouth again.

The same guy that kissed you in the first place is back as he situates both his hands on your hips and pulls you forward harshly so that his hips can officially meet yours.

You moan, letting your head fall back at the feeling of him underneath his jeans meets your core. You wrap your legs around his hips as he kisses down your neck, pressing his hips harder into yours and sliding up to offer some much appreciated friction.

“Hae- Haechan.” You stutter, blissed out and he responds with a hum, clearly not appreciating being interrupted on his mission to mark you.

“You- oh fuck” his hand slithers up your shirt to grasp your breast, thumbing your hard nipple through your thin bralette. He smiles into your neck as he listens to you breathe, gauging what makes you make the noises he loves so much.

“You never answered my question.” You half moan out and that makes him lean back from his work on your neck and look into your eyes with an incredulous look. Taking in your stunned features at him halting his work on you, he groans and lifts you up from the counter.

With a squeal you wrap both your hands around his shoulders as he moves to carry you out of the kitchen.

“Wait-“ you smack his shoulder.

“Haechan! The stove!” You point from your look over his shoulder.

“What? Oh” He then chuckes a deep chuckle before walking back into the kitchen, releasing his grip on one of your thighs to turn the knob and remove the sauce pan from the stove.

“Thanks for that.” He smiles at you and gives you a soft kiss on the corner of your mouth drawing a giggle from you.

“That’s what fake girlfriends are for, right?” You joke and something switches behind his eyes, the fierce sexy guy who was just about to carry you to his bed is now looking at you with the same soft heartbroken eyes that he had when he got stood up that one time freshman year.

He sighs long and loud before letting you down. Your feet touch the floor with unceremonious thuds as you watch him take a step and a half back from you, a pained expression on his face as he lets out a sharp breath through his pursed lips.

“What?” You say, concerned by the crease between his eyebrows and the way he won’t make eye contact with you.

You suddenly feel exposed, and extremely stupid. Your roommates were right about you, you are the dumbest bitch on the planet. Why would you say something like that? Bringing up a fake girlfriend joke when he’s trying to hook up with you freaked him out.

“Ouch, I mean ouch, Y/N” You don’t say anything, continuing to stand and stare at him with wide eyes.

“Damn, that hurt to hear. Do you know what you just implied?” He finally looks up at you and you can finally read him— he’s hurt.

“I mean I’ve been trying to prove to you that I’m into you for months. Like months, Y/N. I’m here now cooking a romantic dinner for you and I just kissed you. I don’t know what else to do here. You don’t get it at all.” His hands are flying about, exasperated. His words cut you like a knife.

Your heart sinks and you can’t pin down the emotion that is creeping up inside of you. Similar to relief and shock but it’s more than that, much more.

“You were okay with the fake girlfriend bit before, how was I supposed to know it would hurt you now?” You say, finally landing on your feelings of offense at his words. How dare he make this into something more than it was?

“I was fine with it until I kissed you! I did that and was about to do a whole lot more and yet you still think this is a game to me?”

That shut you up fast. You didn’t know, you truly didn’t.

“I- I didn’t know.” You say, your sternum stinging with the telltale sign you may start crying soon.

“Of course you didn’t, I didn’t tell you but trust me I’ve tried. I just thought you understood.”

“I’m sorry.” A tear slipped. Overwhelmed with far too many emotions of finally having the awareness that the man in front of you is familiar with his own demon of having feelings for you.

At the notice of your tear, Haechan’s face changes from anger to concern as he steps into you, toes touching. His hands find your cold biceps and he rubs his hand up and down to comfort you.

“No, no don’t be sorry. Please don’t be sorry. It’s me, it was my job to tell you how I felt and I was expecting you to read my mind.” He sighs to himself, head hanging low to try and meet your eye.

“I just thought you wanted to hook up. That’s all you’ve been doing nowadays anyway I thought that was happening here too.”

You say, chin still tucked into your chest.

“Fuck, I’m sorry that you felt that way. You could never just be a regular hookup to me. I- I mean I’ve been all about you for a long time. That’s why I was having all those hookups and everything. Like, for you.”

You laugh through your sniffles, finally looking up into his eyes with a teary smile. He smiles back and giggles with you.

“That didn’t sound right I just mean— I meant— I dunno, hookups are hookups but you’re more I hope you believe me.”

“I believe you.” You whisper, eyes flicking between his two. He notices your stare and his smile softens to a comfortable one.

“So, I did my part.” He draws out with a playful tone in his voice, hands still on your arms. “How about you?” His pleading eyes pierce into your heart.

You sniffle once more, hand coming up to wipe one stray tear from your chin. It’s now or never, you think as your heart beats out of your chest. You’re surprised he can’t hear it.

“I like you, you idiot.” You finally speak, giggling at the last word. His face lights up in a bright smile, eyes swimming in adoration as he stares down at you.

“Really?” He gasps and you both laugh, eyes filled to the brim with fondness for one another meeting.

You bite your lip, watching his eyes immediately stare down at your lips as you hum, nodding in affirmation.

He smiles a satisfied wide grin, “how lucky am I?”

His lips barely meet yours in your kiss, both of you simply unable to stop grinning or laughing with joy. When his hand travels down to grab your hips with more passion, you finally kiss him for real. He responds quickly, slotting his pillowy lips with yours, eyes squinting shut.

“You’re my girl now, right?” He says once you both lean away to catch your breaths, cheeks blushing and warm.

You nod again in response, a “yeah,” escaping your swollen lips through a giggle.

His eyes open fully to look at you again and something mysterious flashes in his eyes as his wide hands find the space between your ass and thighs, picking you up swiftly.

taglist: @matchahyuck @shxnz @haechanaceah @haeerisuh @haetkeeper @count-your-shadows @yamaggukie

1K notes · View notes

violentdelightsandviolentends · 2 months

Note

Hi! Congrats on reaching 5k followers!

Could I request a blurb where Benny Miller find out that the reader has a crush on him by accidentally finding a love letter they wrote?

Drunk Poetry.

benny miller x female reader

warnings - cursing. alcohol mention.

written for my 5k celebration - post here, masterlist here, inbox here.

“That’s the third time you’ve tried to kill me this week.”

You’re both laughing so hard you’re wheezing, clutching at your sides as happy tears drip down your faces.

“I’m sorry,” he chokes out, cheeks hurting from smiling so wide. “I don’t do it on purpose, I swear.”

Benny wraps an arm around your shoulders and pulls you in, holding you close as you rest your head on his chest. Both of you calm down, enjoying being plastered together for the moment.

Friends don’t do this stuff.

You know this.

But when it feels so right, so easy, so natural… who are you to put a stop to it?

Aggression seems to be his love language. It’s how you ended up where you were five minutes ago - you, nursing a blooming bruise on your thigh where Benny had accidentally punched it much too hard seconds earlier. Will says it’s how he shows people he likes them. He’s boisterous, a little clumsy, but so loving.

You’d been play fighting, beating each other up as per usual. The two of you were instantly bored watching a movie Frankie recommended, instead choosing to make your own entertainment.

“We need booze,” he says now, into your hair. “Just a little. Then we can dance.”

You chuckle, nodding into his shirt.

“There’s a bottle of tequila under my bed. Don’t ask.”

He laughs, and the sound rumbles through you lowly. Placing you on the couch gently, he gets up to go and find the alcohol while you stand up and grab some glasses. After a couple of minutes, you return to the living room to see him stood in the doorway, holding a pink piece of paper.

“You’re in love with me.”

Your heart drops out of your chest when you realise what he has in his hand.

“Ben, I can explain.”

His jaw is dropped, eyes wide as he looks at you. He’s uncharacteristically quiet, and it’s making you anxious.

“I, uh - I read somewhere a while ago that if you write stuff down, you can get it out of your mind. And you… you were on my mind a lot, I guess. So I started writing these letters - obviously I was never gonna send them or anything - to get stuff off my chest. You were never meant to see them, Ben. I’m sorry.”

“You’re… sorry?”

“Y-yeah. I’m sorry.”

“For the letters? Or loving me?”

You take a deep breath, holding onto the doorframe.

“Neither, actually. Yeah, neither. I’m not sorry for the letters - I’m kind of sorry that you found them, though. But I’m not sorry for loving you. Never have been.”

He strides across the room, wrapping his arms around your back as he kisses you with so much passion it almost knocks you over. You kiss him back eagerly, hands tangled in his hair as you pull him closer.

“I love you too,” he whispers against your mouth. “I thought that much was obvious.”

“Yeah?” you grin, raking your nails across the back of his neck. “You do?”

“The guys have been on my back about it for like a year.”

“A year? Sucker,” you tease, leaning in to kiss him again.

He breaks away to laugh, throwing you over his shoulder as he walks towards your bedroom.

“Let’s find that fucking tequila and get this party started, huh?”

You can’t say no to an offer like that.

161 notes · View notes

layce2015 · 21 days

Text

The Boys (Soldier Boy x Female!Supe!Reader)

Chapter 8: The Intense White-Hot Wild

First Chapter / Previous Chapter

*3rd Person POV*

Hughie sat in the living room of Legend’s cabin, cleaning his ear with a rag as he stares at a plate of pizza rolls. He removes the rag and sees black ooze on it, which had been coming out of his ears after taking Temp V same goes for Butcher. Hughie sighs as he sets the rag down while Butcher walks in.

“Where's Soldier Boy and Mystic Shade?” He asked Hughie. “You mean, ever since Soldier Boy told us he was supposed to kill his own son? He locked himself and Mystic in the bedroom with a bottle of Old Granddad.” Hughie said as he cleans his ears again. “Well, Homelander ain't really his son, and he knows it.” Butcher said, firmly, just as Soldier Boy and Mystic Shade come in the room.

Soldier Boy had a glass of milk in one hand and in the other hand he had a can of Coke-Cola. Butcher turns to them as Soldier Boy pours the can of soda into the milk. “All right, let's be off then, eh? We'll swing by the office and grab some more V. And then Hughie will jump us to where the cսոts are.” Butcher said as he puts on his jacket and Soldier Boy takes a drink of his concoction while Mystic Shade stood by the doorway, leaning against the frame.

”We do Noir and Homelander. And we're finished. Right?” Butcher asked the two Supes. Soldier Boy looked between the two men with a look of confliction before he walks and turns away, walking out of the room. Mystic looks over at him then to Butcher and Hughie.

“So, once this is all done, you’ll leave us alone?” Mystic Shade asked Butcher. “Of course, love. Once those two are out of the way, you and Soldier Boy can go on your merry way.” Butcher said and Mystic smirks alittle. “Good…” she said as she walks up to them and gives them a serious look, Hughie jerks back alittle at this. “Because if either of you do any funny business, it will be the last fuck up you two will ever do. Am I clear?” She asked, her voice stern and serious.

“As a bell.” Butcher said, in a steady voice, while Hughie looked a scared beyond belief. “Good.” Mystic Shade said before she turns away from them and leaves.

Later, they stopped at a gas station to get some fuel. Mystic Shade was sitting up in the backseat of Butcher’s car, her head leaning against the window as she was resting. Ben was lying down in the backseat, his head on her lap. The two of them were still kinda dealing with a hangover as last night all they did was drink, talk and reminisce….and maybe gone a couple rounds of drunk sex.

Meanwhile, Hughie and Butcher were inside the gas station. Hughie was in the bathroom while Butcher stood outside, making a decision. Starlight called him last night and told him that she found out that after taking over five doses of Temp V, it will kill them. Her words had circled his head and he decided he didn’t want Hughie a part of this anymore. Hughie was too good for this, he doesn’t deserve to have his life thrown away over something that wasn’t really his fight.

This was Butcher’s fight and his alone.

The toilet flushes and the sound of the sink sounds out as Butcher looks around himself, making sure nobody is watching. A second later, Hughie opens the door and stops when he sees Butcher in front of him. “Hey, uh...” Hughie said and he holds up the bathroom keys, which was attached to a car rim.

“You really are the spitting image of my little brother.” Butcher said to Hughie, who furrows his brow in confusion. “What?” he asked and Butcher punches him across the face, knocking him out. Hughie falls back then Butcher pushes him back into the bathroom and shuts the door before leaving him behind.

Minutes later, Soldier Boy and Mystic Shade wake up to see that the car was moving, Butcher driving along. Soldier Boy sits up, groaning, as Mystic rubs the sleep out of her eyes. “Oh, there they are.” Butcher said and the Supes noticed Hughie was gone. “Where's the cսm guzzler?” Soldier Boy asked and Mystic elbows his side. “Ben.” She mutters, exasperated.

”You were spot-on about him. There I was, filling up the motor, I turn around, the little git had done a runner.” Butcher said. “We needed him to get near Noir.” Soldier Boy said. “Ah, don't you worry about that, guv. I got it all worked out.” Butcher assures them as he looks at them through the rear view mirror. Soldier Boy and Mystic Shade share a look before Soldier Boy shrugs.

”Wake me when we get to New York.” He said and he lays back down and places his head on Mystic’s lap again. She looks down at him and runs her fingers through his hair, soothingly, as Butcher keeps on driving down the highway.

*(y/n)’s POV*

That night, we made it to Butcher’s office and he was digging around his desk for maps and I guess more of that Temp V. Ben had found a bottle of alcohol and opens it then the scent of the drink hit him. “Whoa...that brings me back. Used to sneak my dad's Manhattans when I was a kid.” Ben said as he pours a couple of glasses. “I didn't have to nick nothin' from my old man. He used to get me and me little brother lagered just for the hell of it.” Butcher said as he continued to dig in his desk.

”Well, I got to admit, that does sound funny.” Ben chuckles and I shoot a glare at him then he looks away before handing me a glass. “The old man still around?” I asked Butcher as I take the glass and sip on it. “Arse cancer. Shitting his guts out as we speak, one hopes.” Butcher said as his phone buzzes and he looks at it then rejects whoever was calling him.

”You ever see The Soldier Boy Story?” Ben asked him. “Must've missed it.” Butcher said as he takes his phone apart. “It's a classic. We lost Best Picture to An American in Paris that year. At least I got to ass-fuck Jane Wyman in the coat check.” Ben said and I rolled my eyes. “About a poor kid from the streets of South Philly. Discovers he's got incredible powers to match his...heart of gold. It's all bullshit.” Ben said as Butcher grabs himself a glass.

”Blimey, you don't say?” He said, sarcastically, and I did chuckle a bit at this. “Actually my father owned half the steel mills in the state. I went to boarding school. Got kicked out of boarding school. Because I was a fuck-up. But he made sure I knew it.” Ben explains as he sits down in a chair across from Butcher’s desk. “Use the belt, did he?” Butcher asked. “Never laid a hand on me. He couldn't be bothered. Said I was a disappointment. Not good enough to carry his name.” Ben said and he smirks, sarcastically, alittle before he scoffs, softly.

”So I went to his golf buddies in the War Department, and they get me into Dr. Vought's Compound V trials. I became a superhero. Strongest man alive. Fսcking ticker tape parades when I came home.” Ben said. “And what did the old man say then?” Butcher asked him as he takes a drink from his glass. “Ah.” Ben said as he smiles and points at him. “He said I took a shortcut. That a real man wouldn't have cheated.” Ben said as his smile disappears then he looks down.

I remember when he told me what his father said, I felt sorry for Ben. His father sounded like a cruel man. I never met him, Ben basically cut ties with his father at the same time I cut ties with Adam.

”What about you, love? Got a true story to tell us?” Butcher asked me as I look up at him. “Honestly, I think between the three of us, I’m the most normal when it comes to issues with fathers or mothers. My father and mother had normal jobs, my father a banker and my mother a nurse.” I explained and I take a sip of my drink again. “But then things went wrong when I turned seventeen. My father was gunned down by some robbers and my mother died from a broken heart sometime after that. I was left alone.” I said and I bite my lips as the image of my mother’s frail body appeared in my mind.

”And then it seemed my life turned around when I met Adam. He showered me with love and affection, told me everything I wanted to hear at that time. We got married after about a year. Then a few years later, he tricked me.” I said and Butcher gives me a curious look. “Tricked you?” He asked and I nodded. “Basically, he set up a fake doctor’s appointment for me when really it was to stick Compound V into me. To get rich and famous.” I said. “And why didn’t he take it himself?” Butcher asked and I shrugged. “I guess since they had Philly boy here….” I said as I walk behind Ben and pat his shoulder. “They wanted a female counterpart. Vought, I guess, saw potential in me and wanted me to fill that role. We didn’t know about Liberty, or Stormfront as you knew her as.”

”And what happened to Adam? Clearly you’re not with him anymore.” Butcher said and Ben looks up at me with a smirk. “Few months after I got powers, he divorced me. He thought I was cheating on him with Ben. I don’t know if you’ve seen the picture of us getting off the plane after the war was over.” I said and Butcher thinks for a moment then nods. “Well, when that picture of me and Ben kissing got to the papers, Adam was none too happy. And for the record, I wasn’t cheating on Adam. Ben initiated the kiss first.” I said. “Hey, you complained about him and I hated seeing you look miserable, you needed out of that. Plus, you didn't reject me.” Ben said and I roll my eyes at this but I smiled.

”But yeah, that’s my story.” I said as I take a huge gulp of the drink, quenching my thirst. “Whatever happened to him?” Butcher asked me. “Last I heard, he remarried sometime after we divorced, had kids and then um….I believe he died in the sixties.” I said and I bite my lips and shake my head.

“What about you, you got kids?” Ben asked Butcher. “It's complicated.” Butcher replied. “I always assumed I had a few out there. Somewhere. I always wanted 'em. 'Cause I thought I could do it better than my father did.” Ben said then he looks over at me. “Homelander ain't yours. Not really.” Butcher tells him. “He's the only blood I've got left.” Ben pointed out.

”It don't matter. You didn't name him, didn't raise him. Vought grew him in a fսcking test tube to take your place. He's the fսcking reason they left you to rot with the Ivans.” Butcher said as Ben looks down. “Look, mate. We had a deal.” Butcher said, in a firm tone, and Ben takes a the last gulp of his drink then clucks tongue. “I'm gonna get some air.” He said as he stands up. He walks over to a table, sets his glass down and walks out of the room.

After a few moments, I sigh and walk out of the room to look for Ben, then I found him in an empty room, looking out the window. I cautiously walk into the room before going up to him. “Ben?” I said, softly, as he continues to look out the window. “Hey, talk to me. What are you thinking about?” I asked him, trying to sound comforting. He continues to glare out the window, into the many lite buildings below us and the many headlights rushing by on the streets.

”He’s asking me to kill my son. I know I didn’t raise him but…” Ben stops then sighs as he shakes his head. “What do you think?” Ben asked me and I raise an eyebrow at this. “What do you mean?” I asked him. “You know more about him than I do…what’s he like?” He asked me and I sigh at this.

”He’s an egotistical asshole, that much I could tell by watching him on the TV.” I said then I bite my lips. “But Maeve, who’s in the Seven with him, she’s told me a lot of shit he’s done. And from what I can tell, he’s the worst of all.” I said. Ben looks way, contemplating what I said before I speak again. “I know this is hard. But no one is safe as long as Homelander is still alive. If we don’t take him down tonight, then more innocent people are gonna die.” I tell him and Ben sighs.

He stands there and looks out the window, I raise a hand and place it on his shoulder. Ben looks down at me and was about to speak until we heard shouting down the hall. We make our way and follow the noise to hear people talking then someone shouts at someone, I then realized the noise was coming from Butcher’s office.

“Butcher's right. Homelander needs to die. That's it. Whatever it takes.” I hear Maeve’s voice says and this gave me pause. Butcher said told me she was dead, I guess whatever happened, she got out. “I really thought that deep down you were a hero.” A young female voice said. “Well, you were wrong. There's no such thing.” Maeve said as we get closer to the door. “This is not gonna happen.” The female voice said, angrily, and the lights start to flicker. “Annie, I don't want to hurt you.” Maeve said, in a warning tone.

“But we will.” Ben said as we get to the doorway of the office and see Hughie, Maeve, Starlight and Butcher’s friends he told us about all standing in the room. They all look at us, surprised, before Butcher speaks. “All right, you lot. In the safe.” He commands and Hughie looks at him.

”Whoa, whoa, whoa, hey.” He said, worried. “In the safe.” Butcher commands again and everyone looks at him then to me and Ben, who starts to reach for his knife. Then Starlight looks around at the others. “Let's go.” She mutters and Hughie scoffs as the large black man, M.M. I believe Hughie told me was his name, glares at me and Ben. “Hey, not now. Not like this.” Starlight tells him and he and the others go into the safe and Maeve shuts the door on them.

“All right, well...Tinkerbell needs power for her powers.” Butcher said as he goes to the power switch after we got ready. Then he flips the down and the power goes off.

*3rd Person POV*

“The prisoners you liberated here, most of them were nearly dead. They owe you their lives.” The interviewer said as Soldier Boy and Mystic Shade appear on the screen. Homelander was watching an old interview of theirs on a laptop as he waits in the TV station section of Vought Tower.

”We’re not here to take credit. These boys here, they're the real heroes.” Soldier Boy said as he gestures to the men behind him. “What the Jerries did here is unforgivable. But we promise you, we’re gonna serve them up some good old-fashioned American justice.” Mystic Shade said and Homelander smiles at the footage. He always looked up to Soldier Boy and, truth be told, he was envious of the relationship Soldier Boy and Mystic Shade had.

He thought he had that when he and Maeve were together but that didn’t last long. And then with Stormfront…well…that ended in shit as well.

At that moment, Homelander heard footsteps but he didn’t turn as he knew who it was. “Scorched earth, eh, William?” He asked as Butcher, Maeve, Soldier Boy and Mystic Shade enter the room. “Scorched earth.” Butcher confirmed.

”Where's Noir?” Soldier Boy asked. “He's dead. I killed him.” Homelander replied as he turns to them. “Why?” Ben asked him. “Because he didn't tell me about you. I'm alone. I just want to talk.” Homelander said as he spreads his arms out. “I know what it's like to have your team betray you. But with you and I together...they wouldn't stand a chance. Nobody would.” He said and Ben thinks on this and shrugs.

”Unless we kill each other first.” Soldier Boy said as he takes a couple of steps forward. “That's true. But why? What, because he says so? He's nothing. He's human.” Homelander chuckles. “Don't you listen to this fսcking twɑt. He ain't your kid.” Butcher said as he, Maeve and Mystic take a couple of steps forward. “Yes, I am. I am your son. I am your blood. That's all that matters.” Homelander growls. “Maybe.” Soldier Boy mutters and Homelander goes over a door while Mystic takes Soldier Boy’s hand in hers.

Homelander opens the door and Ryan comes out, Butcher looking at him in shock. “Ryan.” Butcher whispers as Homelander brings Ryan up to Soldier Boy. “This is my son. Ryan. Your grandson.” Homelander said to him and Soldier Boy has different emotions flowing through mind as he looks at the young boy.

”Hi, Grandpa.” Ryan greets, softly, and Soldier Boy looks away and towards Mystic Shade, who was just as shocked as him. “You see? You have a family. You have him. And you have me.” Homelander said and Soldier Boy chuckles softly. “It's a shame that I've missed...so much. I wish I could've raised you...and taught you, father to son.” Soldier Boy said as he takes his hand out of Mystic’s and walks up to Homelander. Mystic and Maeve share a worried look.

”Me too. That's okay. We're not alone anymore. We have each other.” Homelander whispers, his voice shaking with tears then Soldier Boy places a hand on his shoulder. “Maybe if I'd raised you...I could've made you better. And not some weak, sniveling pussy, starved for attention. But there's no fixing that now.” Soldier Boy said as Butcher and Maeve smile.

“Weak? I'm you.” Homelander said to him, confused. “I know. You're a fսcking disappointment.” Soldier Boy whispers, shakily, and he grabs Homelander’s neck. “Leave him alone!” Ryan shouts as Butcher and Maeve go to Homelander and grab his arms. “Get out of here, Ryan!” Butcher tells him. “Please, stop!” Ryan pleads as he tries to shove Butcher away. “Get out of the building! Now!” Butcher tells him. “Butcher, stop! Please!” Ryan said and Mystic Shade goes over to Ryan.

”C’mon, kid. Let’s go!” She said as she starts to drag him away but he struggles and fights as Soldier Boy’s chest begins to glow. “You can't do this. Don't do this. Don't do this. Don't.” Homelander pleads to Soldier Boy. “Kid, come on!” Mystic said as she drags Ryan away but Ryan was able to get out of her grasp and his eyes glow red.

Before Mystic could react, Ryan uses his laser eyes on her, making her fly back and crash into a wall. The light diminishes from Soldier Boy’s chest as he looks over and sees Mystic crashing into the wall, his heart dropped at this then he glares at Ryan.

“Ryan, get back upstairs. Right now.” Homelander exclaims as Soldier Boy lets go of him then turns and slams his shield into Ryan, making him fly back and hit a bookshelf. “Ryan!” Homelander exclaimed as he runs to his son, checking on him as he sees a cut on the kid’s forehead. “You little shit.” Soldier Boy growls and his chest begins to glow while Butcher looks over at Soldier Boy then to Maeve, who had a look that said Don’t think about it.

“Ryan. Hey.” Homelander pleads as Ryan was knocked out cold. Butcher then made his decision and used his laser eyes on Soldier Boy, who reacted quickly and brings up his shield to protect himself from the laser. Homelander then turns around and uses his laser eyes and both he and Butcher knock Soldier Boy into the news station.

The two men share a look before Homelander turns to Ryan and Butcher goes to Soldier Boy. “What the fսck are you doing?” Soldier Boy asked Butcher as he stands up. “Not the kid.” Butcher said. “Oh, I thought you said blood didn't matter. Thought that was the whole fսcking point.” Soldier Boy exclaimed. “He's my wife's son.” Butcher admits and Soldier Boy gets a confused look.

”Wait, Homelander fսckеd your wife? And you want to save the brat? The hell's wrong with you?” Soldier Boy asked him, confused. “I made a promise.” Butcher said. “So this is it. Everything you wanted...He's right fսcking there...And now you blink?” Soldier Boy asked, angrily. “Stand down.” Butcher commanded. “Fuck you.” Soldier Boy yells as he glares at Butcher. “You're weaker than he is.” He said and the two men begin to fight.

They punch and kick at each other while Maeve and Homelander start fighting in the other room. Butcher punches Soldier Boy in the leg, the chest and then uppercuts him before he grabs his neck and lasers him in the face.

Suddenly, a rope wraps around Butcher’s neck and pulls him back. Then it flings him over to where he lands on the desk. Soldier Boy looks over to see Mystic Shade standing nearby, her eyes glowing electric blue. Soldier Boy looks over at her and gives her a Are You Okay? look, she nods, assuredly, and he returns the nod as he grabs his shield then walks over to Butcher.

Still a bit dazed, Butcher opens his eyes and looks up to see Soldier Boy looming over him, raising his shield up high and aimed towards his head. “Ben…” Mystic called out and Soldier Boy stops. “Let’s just get out of here, go home.” She said as Soldier Boy looks down at Butcher, who was staring at the shield in fear. “He made his bed, now he can lay in it.” Mystic said as she gestures to Butcher.

Soldier Boy considers what she was saying until there was a couple of loud gunshots sound out. One hits Soldier Boy and the other hits Mystic Shade, didn’t cause any harm just stunned them. They turn around and see M.M. and Starlight had come in and M.M. was firing with a gun while Starlight uses her light powers at the two Supes.

Mystic Shade and Soldier Boy get into a stance as he holds up his shield and Mystic uses her shield powers as Butcher gets up. Starlight was firing balls of light at Mystic and Soldier Boy but Mystic’s shield was able to hold those lights back. Mystic tries to use her telekinetic powers to throw debris at Starlight but she dodges or uses her power to blast the debris while Soldier Boy fights off Butcher.

Starlight was able to get behind Mystic and was about to use her power but Soldier comes up and swings his shield at her, knocking her up into a wall then falls on the ground.

Butcher uses his laser eyes and Soldier Boy uses his shield to block the laser. Butcher walks closer as he keeps using the laser eyes until he got close and punches the shield, causing it to break in pieces. “Yeah! Fuck your shield, bitch.” M.M. exclaims, excitedly. Soldier Boy gives a hard, angry glare at Butcher and tosses the piece of shield he held onto aside then he and Butcher fight. Meanwhile, Mystic waves her hands and M.M. was grabbed by some ropes around his middle and thrown against the wall.

Soldier Boy ended up getting the upper hand as he punches Butcher several times in the face then he grabs him and throws him across the room, knocking him out. Kimiko comes in, carrying a container. It was the gas Frenchie was able to whip up quickly that was gonna knock Soldier Boy out since Maeve threw out the one Frenchie had worked on for awhile.

Kimiko tries to run at Soldier Boy but then a cable wrapped around her neck and it throws her aside, Soldier Boy looks over at Mystic and nods in appreciation. Then Starlight stands up as Soldier Boy and Mystic Shade turn to her. Her eyes glow gold as she gets ready to fight them.

Suddenly, the lights began to glow brighter thanks to Hughie, who was in the control room and cranking the lights up to the highest level they could go. Starlight’s eyes and hands glow as she slowly starts to rise up as the lights were making her more powerful.

Soldier Boy and Mystic Shade look at each other, as if having a silent conversation, before he nods to Mystic. Starlight then raises her hands and goes to blast at the two but Mystic raises her own hands and shielded them from her blast. But it seemed the light blast was a lot stronger than Mystic anticipated as it stayed blocked for a few seconds before it breaks through the barrier of her force field and knocks Mystic and Soldier Boy back.

Starlight falls down on her side as Soldier Boy starts to sit up. But it seemed the blast took an effect on Mystic as she is knocked out. Soldier Boy stands up and looks down at her then starts to worry about her. But before he could do anything, M.M. jumps on his back as Kimiko and Starlight grab his arms. Then M.M. places the gas mask over Soldier Boy’s mouth and nose and that’s when the Supe starts to panic as he screams, grunts and growls.

“You ain't no hero. You're just another racist piece of shit we can't seem to get rid of. This is for my family.” M.M. sneers as Soldier Boy groans then his chest starts to glow just as Mystic starts to wake up. “I'm not going back in that fսcking box!” Soldier Boy growls, it seemed the gas wasn’t working.

“What the fuck are you guys doing?!” Mystic exclaims as she starts to come to and sits up. Butcher stands up and sees this then sees Ryan walking out. “You'll kill everyone.” Starlight said to Soldier Boy as he begins to power up. Butcher runs over to Ryan and goes to shield him while Mystic waves both of her hands and multiple cables and ropes grab on to Starlight, Kimiko and M.M. and yank them off of Soldier Boy as the light in his chest grows brighter.

Meanwhile, Maeve and Homelander have been duking it out during all of this even to the point where Homelander shoved his thumb into Maeve’s right eye, blinding her. But she was able to grab a steel cylinder and shove it in Homelander’s ear, dazing him, just as she looks over to see Soldier Boy turning to Starlight, M.M. and Kimiko, smoke starts to come out of him and the light gets even brighter.

”Ben!” Mystic shouts as Maeve looks at Starlight then sighs. “Shit.” She grumbles then she punches Homelander in the chest then runs over to Soldier Boy, grabs him and the both of them fly out of the building. Then a few seconds later, there was a loud explosion and then silence before they hear some car horns in the distance.

Starlight and M.M. walk towards the window that they flew out of and look below to see nothing. Then Hughie runs in and embraces Starlight just as Frenchie comes in and Kimiko and M.M. pat his shoulder. Mystic Shade looks down, in sorrow, at the ground as she contemplates what just happened.

Butcher looks down at Ryan, who starts to stand up. “Are you hurt? Ryan, look at me.” Butcher asked him but Ryan wasn’t looking at him as he was looking over his shoulder. Butcher turns to look as does everyone to see Homelander walking towards Butcher, not looking pleased.

“Dad...I want to go.” Ryan said to Homelander as he walks up to him. “Let's leave. Please. I want to leave.” Ryan pleads to his father, who continues to glare at Butcher, but then looks down at his son. “Ryan. Please.” Butcher pleads but Ryan takes Homelander’s hand and the two of them walk out of the station.

Butcher looks down in defeat and the gang all look worried at this until they heard a small humorless laugh then a slow clapping sounds. Everyone looks over to see that it was Mystic Shade as she shakes her head with a fake smile. “Well congratulations on being the world’s biggest fuck ups.” She said and everyone glares at her while Butcher looks defeated and Hughie has a worried look on his face.

”Thanks to you dumbasses, Homelander seems to have gotten what he wants and you’ve lost that kid forever. Now that is gonna make him more dangerous than he ever was before.” Mystic Shade said before she starts to get angry. “I mean, seriously?! Stopping Ben was a higher priority than Homelander? Way to go with the brilliant ideas, you fuckers.”

”He had to be stopped, he was a murderer. He’s killed countless people.” Starlight argued and Mystic Shade scoffs. “And your boss hasn’t?” Mystic asked and Starlight narrows her eyes. “I mean, if I recall, didn’t he let a plane full of people go down?” She asked and Starlight seemed alittle surprised she knows that. “Maeve told me about that little thing you two kept dangling over his head.” Mystic said. “And tell me this, cause I know this is bullshit, but that friend of yours, SonicWave….did Homelander kill him?”

Starlight’s jaw sets and she looks away then Mystic smirks and scoffs again before looking at Butcher. “And you, Butcher, this was all your idea. To take Homelander down cause you believed he needed to be taken down…oh, and apparently, he fucked your wife and had that kid with her. Which now said kid, you were trying to protect is now driven into the arms of your enemy.” Mystic said and Butcher looks up at her before he turns his head away.

”Pathetic. All of you.” She growls and Starlight’s eyes start glowing gold again. “Oh, don’t fucking start, Sparky.” Mystic groans then Hughie grabs Starlight's arm. “Mystic, I like you but you gotta admit…your boyfriend is really fucking crazy in his own right.” Hughie said and Mystic gives a small, sarcastic smile. “On the surface, yes he is. But don’t pretend like you know who Soldier Boy is when all you have to go off of is rumors and stories.” She said.

Mystic looks down then sighs before she looks back at everyone. “You think all Supes and Vought are bad, you people are no different from them.” Mystic sneers at them and they all look at her, shocked. She then starts to walk out. But once she gets to Butcher, she stops and turns her head to him. “I hope the kid was worth it, Butcher.” She mutters to him then she heads to the door.

But once she gets to the door, she stops then turns to the others as she had one more thing to say. “You all had your chance to stop Homelander and you threw it away. From this day forth, anyone that Homelander kills…it’s on you fuckers.” She proclaims then leaves as everyone looks around at everybody, considering what she said. Butcher felt lightheaded and raised his hand up to his nose to see some black ooze was coming out of his nose and then he passes out and falls to the floor.

Soldier Boy groans as he slowly opens his eyes, his vision blurry and his head was swimming. He moves his head around, slowly, and try to take in his surroundings, which looked like he was in an alleyway. He was then able to see a couple of figures coming towards him. “He’s here. We got him.” He hears a voice say. His vision clears up a little and he sees that the two figures were men in armor.

He tries to get up but then the men were slammed up against the wall a few times before they pass out. Soldier Boy sits up slowly as another figure walks up to him, but this one being female. “Ben!” A familiar voice calls out and he realized that it was Mystic Shade. “(Y/n)?” He said, hoarsely, as she comes up to him and kneels down next to him.

The first thing he saw of her was her beautiful (e/c) eyes then her smile. “It’s okay, Ben. I got you.” She said, softly, and she helps him up to his feet and his vision finally clears up and noticed that the men were wearing CIA gear. “Are…was that…?” He stammered to ask and Mystic nods. “We need to get out of here, fast.” She said as she takes his hand and they walk down the alleyway.

”You..saved me?” Soldier Boy asked her and she turns her head to him and smiles. “Of course I did. What kind of wife would I be to not save her husband?” She asked, teasingly, and he smiles before they stop and he leans in and gives her a kiss. “I love you.” He whispers once he breaks the kiss. “I love you too.” She said then they look around before they head out.

The next day, Bethany was watching TV, the news about Maeve’s death and how she stopped Soldier Boy. The news calling him a radicalized Russian but she didn’t believe it, she knew that was some shit as Ben acted like his normal self. But she was also worried about (y/n), she hadn’t heard from her best friend in a few days and that wasn't like her.

She sighs, sadly, then runs her hands over her eyes when the front door opens. She looks over and sees Steven walking in, holding an envelope and a look of concern on his face. “What’s wrong, honey?” She asked him. “It’s a letter…from (y/n).” He said and Bethany furrows her brow.

”What?” She said as Steven walks over to her and sits down next to her. “She hasn’t sent letters since cellphones were created.” Bethany said as Steven hands the letter to her. Bethany takes the letter, opens it and begins to read it aloud.

Bethany and Steven,

I know this is old fashion to send a letter but with everything going on, I couldn’t risk sending a text which I actually destroyed my phone. What I can tell you is don’t believe any bullshit that Vought puts out about Ben. He’s also not dead and neither is Queen Maeve. Those men you saw me and Ben with well, they betrayed us. We were supposed to take out Homelander but for some reason those men and their friends turned on me and Ben.

I’ll send another letter later to give a more detail story on that but for now just know Ben and I are safe. We are staying at a different house I had purchased years ago. It’s isolated in a small town that seems to not know who we are or were, should I say.

I’m not sure if we’ll ever reunite again, if not then this letter and the next will be my goodbye. I’ll always hold the time we had very dear to my heart. I love you two and Amelia so much and appreciate everything you guys did for me when Ben was gone.

I do hope we see each other again but if not then I give my goodbyes to you and good luck to the rest of your life.

Love,

(y/n)

Bethany’s eyes tear up as she reads it then sniffles when she was done. Steven goes to hug her and Bethany cries in his shoulder. She understood why her friend had to do this but it still didn’t help the hurt as she really cared for (y/n) and would miss her dearly. But she will always treasure those memories forever.

Few Days Later

*(y/n)’s POV*

I walk out on the porch of the large cabin to see Ben sitting in the chair, looking out at the lake. I bought this cabin years ago to have a place whenever I wanted to get away from the hustle and bustle of the town and city. It had two rooms, a kitchen, living room and a bathroom. There was a small town a few miles away but you wouldn’t have thought that as all you could see were trees, mountains and a nice lake.

Ben turns his head to look up at me as I hand him a beer bottle. He takes it then turns his head, like he heard something. “You hear that?” He asked me and I listen for a moment and start to worry about him. It had been a few days since he had any weed or coke, so I was worried he was suffering some sort’ve withdrawn side effects.

“Hear what?” I asked him as I take the seat next to him. “Exactly. I think this might be the first time in my life where I’ve heard complete silence.” He said, smiling with content, and I listen again, feeling calm by the silence. All I could hear was the leaves rustling in with the breeze and the sounds of rushing water from the river. “Yeah, it’s nice.” I said, smiling as well.

”I know it’s not as glamorous as the city…” I started to say but Ben shakes his head. “Nah, this is great. You picked a perfect place, sweetheart.” He said and I smiled. “Although, I gotta say, I’m still pissed at Butcher and those other motherfuckers.” Ben growls and I give a sympathetic look. “I’m just…confused and pissed off and…” he stops then sighs with an angry heavy sigh and I place a hand over his that was on his thigh.

“Hey, I’m pissed at them too but…let’s not dwell on that right now. They fucked up and whatever happens afterwards, that’s on them especially Butcher.” I assured him as he looks at me, he still had a bit of that anger in his eyes but he sighs and nods. “I’m just glad I was able to get to you before they took you away from me again.” I said and Ben gives a small smile.

”I’m glad you did too. There’s no way I’m going back in the box. Too many bad memories.” He said then he turns his gaze from me and looks down. I frown then set my beer down on the little table next to my chair and I walk over to him and sit on his lap. I wrap my arms around his shoulder and he leans his head against my chest, sets his beer down then wraps his arms around me and pulls me closer to him as if he was afraid that I’d disappear if he didn’t hold me close to him.

”It’s okay, Ben. I won’t let that happen.” I whispered, comfortingly, then I kiss the top of his head, softly, before I run my fingers through his hair while he buries his face into my chest. “I’m never letting you go. Never again.” I whispered to him. Ben was never really this vulnerable but whatever happened in Russia must’ve really shook him to his core. Yes, he did put up this whole macho man facade to hide it all, it’s how men were raised back then, but I knew something was wrong.

I just can’t imagine what he went through these last forty years at that place and I wasn’t there to save him. But now I was able to save him and I have him here safe and sound and I’m gonna do my best to help him through all of this.

”Good…because I don’t want to be anywhere else but here.” Ben said as he pulls his head back to look at me and I smile then I lean in and kiss him, lovingly.

*3rd Person POV*

Unbeknownst to the couple, out in the distance was Grace Mallory. She had her binoculars up as she looks at the cabin, towards the couple. She had seen the body cam of her two officers that were knocked in the alleyway when they were gonna grab Soldier Boy. In the cam, she was able to see Mystic Shade walking down the alleyway and help carry Soldier Boy out of the alley.

It took her a few days because the home that was under Mystic’s real name was empty and she didn’t know where Mystic went. Eventually, she was able to track down this little cabin which Mystic put it under another name which was her using her old married name from way back in the 40’s.

Mallory lowers her binoculars as she contemplates on what to do next. A strong part of her wanted to head over to them and talk to them and take Soldier Boy into custody as he is a danger. But another part of her wanted to leave them alone, Soldier Boy seemed in a calm state since he is with his girlfriend. Mystic seems to keep him calm and happy.

Plus Mallory remembered how Mystic Shade saved her life back in Nicaragua. So she feels that her leaving Mystic and Soldier Boy is in a way to return the favor.

Mallory sighs then heads into her car as she decided to leave them alone…for now at least. With how Butcher is and the whole thing with Vought and no telling what’s gonna happen with Homelander now, she keeps this information to herself as she might call upon these two one day.

@winchestergirl1720 @deans-spinster-witch @mimaria420 @wirdbeimaufhebengebunden @kitsun369 @jesllianaquilesrolonsworld @deangirl96 @demodemo909 @cassiecasluciluce @mostlymarvelgirl @onlyangel-444 @mayafatimakhan

#fandom #fanfic #fan fiction #reader insert #x reader #tv shows #tv show fandom #tv #reader #reader imagine #the boys tv #the boys #soldier boy x y/n #soldier boy x you #soldier boy x reader #superhero #jensen ackles #amazon prime

71 notes · View notes

bloodynereid · 6 months

Note

would you do a roman roy imagine where he crashes shiv and the reader’s lunch cause he’s feeling jealous of shiv having the reader attention (like in childhood despite the reader being shiv’s age) and he and the reader’s long standing “will they-won’t they” finally ends?

Lunch Confessions

pairing: roman roy x fem! reader

a/n: hii sorry for taking so long to answer this request! hopefully i did it justice. i miss rome sm omg - COME HOME! for anyone who follows me for gen v sry lol i have a ton of other hyperfixations and i'm in the midst of my succession rewatch so...

tw: roman being his usual slimy self (only for a bit tho we love him), tom bashing (only a warning if you actually like him), swearing A LOT, rich people, allusions to sex

description: a lunch meeting with shiv takes an interesting turn...

The rain pattered against the glass of your car as you fixed your hair in the compact mirror. The slick leather seats slid under the fabric of your pants and a smile blossomed on your face. You were finally back in your favorite city, New York, after having to be abroad in Tokyo for a while. Father needed some help with the expansion over there and obviously he had decided to turn to his favorite daughter.

Your family founded and owned one of the most prestigious pharmaceutical companies in the world. It had been passed down from your grandfather to your father and then hopefully to you. Thankfully your other siblings weren’t exactly interested in running the family business, which meant less competition for the throne. You shuddered thinking about the fucking gladiator fight Logan had Shiv, Ken and Roman competing in.

Your youngest brother had started up his own tech firm in Silicon Valley and was doing pretty well for himself… even if he didn’t actually manage his fucking company. Your two sisters were influencers, or rather they liked to call themselves life-style promoters but still.

Tracing shapes on the cool glass, you closed your eyes and took a deep, steadying breath. You were on your way to go see one of your closest friends from boarding school, Shiv motherfucking Roy. Your family had always been pretty close to the Roys, especially since Logan and your father had a whole deal going on about ATN, which even after years of being at the company he still hadn’t given you the exact details about.

Roman and Shiv were the only two of the whole family that you could really stand. Ken was sort of never around - instead he preferred the company of Stewie and various powders, Connor didn’t take anything seriously which constantly struck a nerve and Logan cycled through wives like they were the newest TikTok trend.

“Miss, we’re here.” You turned towards Ben and smiled before looking up at the building where you were having lunch with Shiv.

“Thanks Ben. Go ahead and park the car. It should be a few hours.”

“Of course Miss.” You smiled and waited as he got out of the car, opened up an umbrella before unlocking the car door. Your black boots met concrete as you stepped out into the cool Manhattan air. The heels of your books clicked against the sidewalk as Ben covered you with the umbrella and you made your way into the building.

The host smiled as he saw you walk in and quickly took out a menu before waiting for you to make your way over to the main desk.

“Hello Ms. L/N, how are you doing today?”

“Quite well. I have a reservation with Shiv Roy.”

“Of course, she has just arrived. Right this way.” You nodded and followed him as he made his way towards your usual table in the more private lounge area. You instantly spotted Shiv, her red hair hanging over her face like a curtain and her fingers moving quickly over her phone screen.

“Here we are.” The host said as he pulled out your chair and placed the menu in front of you. “Is there anything we can get for you at the moment?”

Shiv looked up and her face brightened when she realized you had arrived. She quickly locked her phone and looked up at the eager host.

“A bottle of the 1945 and some sparkling mineral water for each of us.” You said, quickly dismissing the host who nodded and left to procure your drinks.

“God hi I missed you.”

“Missed you as well Shivvy.” You smiled back at her and you quickly stood up and exchanged a short hug before settling back into your chairs.

“So how was Tokyo?”

“Busy. How’s Tom?”

“Well… he’s Tom.”

You scrunch your nose up and Shiv chuckles slightly at your expression before she takes a sip of the wine you had ordered, which was currently being poured into your glass. You fall into easy conversation, taking turns to explain all the new company gossip as you order your food and start to dig into the Michelin star meal.

“Your dad is truly insane. I mean Pierce really?”

“I know, thank you!” You laugh when you hear a familiar voice in the distance, one that belonged to one of Shiv’s many brothers.

“You invited Roman?” You asked as you cut up another piece of food in frustration. Ok so maybe going to Tokyo wasn’t all because of your father… it might have also been because Roman was so fucking happy with Tabitha. Not that you didn’t like Tabitha but you and Roman had a thing. An unspoken thing sure but still a thing.

“Fuck! I mentioned I was going to have lunch with you today and I didn’t fucking realize-”

“Shiv, it’s fine. Trust me.” You sent a reassuring smile as you patted her hand in sympathy. This honestly happened pretty often. Roman had a habit of interrupting any kind of event you had scheduled with Shiv, it had been that way since you were kids. You didn’t really get why but you were usually fine with it but right now…

“Ah if it isn’t my favorite women. Y/N, darling, you look fucking exhausted.” Roman said as he got one of the waiters to pull up a chair to your table and promptly sat down in one of his weird contortionist shapes.

“Fuck you Roman, you look like you have the plague.”

“You are so sweet to me, isn’t she Shiv?”

“I don’t understand why the fuck you decided to interrupt our lunch, Roman.” Shiv spit out, she accentuated his name with so much venom that it even made you widen your eyes.

“Aww don’t be like that dearest sister. I already know you want to fuck her so why don’t we all just have one big orgie.” Your face twisted in disgust and you thrust your foot out to hit Roman’s knee.

“Ow! Fuck.” Roman exclaimed, making a triumphant smile on your face.

“You’re fucking disgusting, Roman. Shit!” Shiv looked down at her phone and sent you a sympathetic glance. “Sorry to leave you with the fucking scum of the earth but I have to go.”

“Oh god don’t worry, go ahead. It’s my turn to take care of lunch anyways.”

“Thanks Y/N, we should reschedule without this creep interrupting us.” You stood up and gave Shiv a hug as she left the restaurant before looking over to Roman who had a happy smile all over his face.

“What’s making you all fucking smiley over there?”

“Oh nothing, don’t you just love a good female bonding moment?” Roman asked sarcastically as he stole your wine glass and took a sip.

“Ugh Roman, really? Why did you have to interrupt our lunch again?” You asked as you snatched your wine glass back and took a big gulp, you were going to need it if you wanted to survive this fucking conversation.

“Well you obviously needed saving from Shiv, duh.”

“Rome… look I love you but I don’t ever need saving from Shiv.”

“Aww you love me?” Roman said with an exaggerated sweet tone lacing his voice.

“You focused on entirely the wrong part of that sentence. Now really why did you crash?”

“I… fuck I broke up with Tabs and… I wanted to see you okay?” Your eyes widened and your jaw dropped as your heart started to quicken.

“You- really?”

“Yup, completely cut her the fuck off.”

“What? Why? I thought you liked her.”

“Eh.”

“What exactly does this have to do with my question?”

“You’re fucking blind aren’t you?”

“Excuse me? You’re the one who’s being all fucking cloak-and-dagger?”

“Do you need me to spell it out to you? I fucking missed you!” He said as he looked up to you with his hands nervously twisted the cloth napkin.

“Geez Roman, I didn’t realize you were capable of basic human emotions.”

“Fuck you.” Roman made a move to get up from his position.

“Woah Rome, I didn’t mean it like that. I- I missed you as well.”

“You have such a big crush on me, don’t you?” Roman asked with a mocking twist of his lips, the only thing that gave away his happiness were his eyes, which sparkled in the light of the chandeliers.

“Hmmm what if I do?” You said as a smirk rose up on your face.

“Y/N… now you’re playing a dangerous game.” Roman said as he leaned closer to you and dragged his fingertips down the side of your face.

“Oh I’m the one playing a dangerous game. Darling, we’ve been playing this game for as long as I can remember.”

“Fuck call me that again.”

“Only if you promise to be a good boy and stop crashing Shiv and I’s lunches.” You said as you pushed your chair back and smoothed out the creases in your pants. Roman’s face had changed from mocking to surprised as fuck.

“Well are you coming?” You asked as you started walking to the door of the restaurant, quickly swiping your card through the reader.

“Fuck yes.”

hehe hope u enjoyed. will def try to write for succession more in the future

#roman roy x reader #roman roy x you #roman roy #succession #fanfic #roman roy fanfic #succession x reader #succession fanfic #kendall roy #shiv roy #tom wambsgans

157 notes · View notes

anundyingfidelity · 13 days

Note

Hiya!

Just read your recent SB fics and I'm fucking hooked. Dark Ben is ❤️‍🔥❤️‍🔥. Can I request another Dark Soldier Boy and reader being in slave/master dynamics, please? 🥹

helloooo!! thank you so much, i'm glad to know that you liked it!! i tried my best for a dark!soldier boy haha. this is maybe the first time i write this type of master/slave dynamic and i'm mostly a sub so the reader is a sub too XD hope you enjoy this filthy thing !!

event guidelines ✮ event masterlist ✮

☕ if you like my writing, support me with a ko-fi !

PLAYTHING — Dark!Soldier Boy x female reader

Word count: 592 (these aren't 400 words drabbles anymore lmao).

Genre: dark smut.

Warnings: dark!soldier boy, master/slave dynamics, face-fucking, cum-play, cum swallow, hair pulling, finger-sucking, if you squint forced alcohol compsumtion, usage of word 'slut'.

Your throat hurts and you try to catch a breath from your nose as much as you’re allowed to. You shut your eyes closed, feeling his strong hands against your scalp, fingers tugging at your hair as you gag on his shaft over and over, while he’s using your mouth as his personal fleshlight.

His cock throbs in your mouth, spit is running down your chin and you try to rub your thighs together, yearning for some friction between them. Your nipples are hard and stiff now, aching for release, but you know better to not touch yourself before he gives his permission to do so.

“Shit, you’re so fucking good with that mouth of yours, sweetcheeks,” he praises and follows a chain of dirty courses between his hitching breath.

You think he’s going to release down your throat but you’re so wrong. Soldier Boy forces your head back, his dick slipping out of you leaving a string of saliva connecting the tip of his veiny shaft with your swollen lips. His dark green gaze takes in the mess you are; on your knees between his legs, eyes lost in pleasure even if he hasn’t touched you yet, panting hard, showing up your bare body only with a pair of black stockings combined with high-waist suspenders that hugged your body perfectly.

Just how he loved to see you, his little plaything. So obedient, so eager to please him. His cock begins to twitch again.

“Fetch me another glass,” Soldier Boy orders, voice low and dark.

“Yes, master.”

He lets go of the grip on your hair and you stand up with wobbly legs to fill up his glass with the expensive bottle of liquor standing on the bar of his penthouse. When you come back, he trails his eyes over your figure and takes the glass as you kneel between his thighs. Innocent eyes draw back at him, he smirks, settling the glass on the carpeted floor by your side.

“Such a good pet,” Soldier Boy praises, his thumb now tugging at your lower lip. You open your mouth as a reflex and he shoves his index finger along too. You start sucking on them and he pushes further, making you gag around his fingers. “Ain’t even touching you yet and I know you’re soaking wet.”

You moan as an answer, mouth full of his digits. He pulls them out suddenly and forces your mouth to stay open with a hand, the other taking his hard cock to shove it down your throat again, this time fucking your wet cavern like a mad man looking for his release. It’s not too long until he spends his cum until it mixes with your spittle and runs down your chin, coating the base of his cock.

“Swallow,” he commands, staying still inside your mouth and you do as better as you can.

Once you’re allowed to breathe again you lick the remnants on his shaft, moaning at the salty taste of it. He forces you to stop suddenly and grabs the liquor glass again. Your aching jaw falls open thanks to his strong hand and he pours the scotch on your mouth. The taste smoothly burns as you swallow it all.

“Yeah, fucking take it all, my little slut,” he grunts, eyes on your flushed face. “You’ve been so good today. I might have to reward you.”

You whine pathetically, unable to look away from his lustful eyes. You’re basically begging to be fucked by now. And that he will, under his own terms.

#soldier boy x reader #soldier boy x female reader #soldier boy smut #soldier boy imagines #soldier boy fanfiction #soldier boy x you #soldier boy x y/n #soldier boy/ben #the boys amazon #jensen ackles fanfiction #400followerstag!

68 notes · View notes

strawberryblue-blog · 1 year

Text

Say that again —Mason Mount

Warning: mention of alcohol, angst.

Words: +1.3k

#sexynote: english is not my first language

London, England.

The glass of champagne lay in front of your eyes when your hand held your sleepy face on the table. If you listened to your friends complaining about their boyfriends for one more minute, you were going to explode. Literally.

You drank the last of your glass, letting the burning sensation take over your throat, smiling as you watched several boys arrive at their table. Sophia, by your side, squeezed your leg, drawing your attention as she saw the young Englishman surround the place.

Brilliant. You thought as you saw the group of players.

"I didn't know they let girls over 40 in" you heard the mockery from one of them.

You were drunk enough to make a fuss, but you'd rather play his game.

"I didn't know your girlfriend let you out of the house." You smiled, serving yourself another drink. Your friend, Kai, rolled his eyes as he hugged his girlfriend.

"Don't laugh, you'll have a boyfriend soon and you won't say anything like that," Sophia sighed, giving Kai a kiss on the cheek. You made a mock gag, making the others at the table laugh.

Next to the German, the dark-haired man who had just arrived was sitting, covertly your gaze shifted towards him. You cleared your throat when his gaze met yours, grabbing the bottle of champagne to serve you another bit.

"How many of those?" Ben asked, hugging his girl around the waist. But his girlfriend scolded him, telling him not to bother you.

"Not enough." The words slipped from your mouth, with a giggle.

"It seems that you are trying to forget someone" you heard him speak for the first time with a hint of irony.

Your gaze returned to the boy, dressed perfectly in a white shirt under a khaki jacket paired with jeans of the same color.

On his face, that self-centered and delusional smile appeared while his eyes shone in the darkness of the bar.

The tension could be cut with a knife and everyone present could tell, but no one said anything. Kai and Sophia smiled knowingly, while Ben and Cartia ignored you, Reece and Christian joked among themselves trying to dissimulate.

You did not say anything. You just smiled broadly outlining the edge of the empty glass with your finger.

It was no secret that you had never been able to get along with Mason Mount, Chelsea and England number 19, the best friend of your best friend's boyfriend.

The boy you hated since you met him but had you fantasizing for almost two years. Although neither admitted it and they made life impossible for each other, pretending that nothing was happening between you but it was the opposite.

"I heard that you are moving to Norway next week for your scholarship. You deserve it so much, congratulations, girl” Cartia said happily, holding your hand.

You nodded, smiling gratefully.

"Norway?" Pulisic questioned. "That's great, y/n. Congratulations sweetheart"

"Thank you, Chris" you thanked biting your lip, a little shy.

Out of the corner of your eye you saw Mason's jaw tighten when the American returned the gesture, smiling seductively at you.

“So…let's party!” Ben yelled, letting go of his girlfriend to run to the bar, ordering bottles of the first thing he saw and turning towards you.

You toasted, danced and vice versa throughout the night, enjoying the joy of the place. You even came to think that coming tonight hadn't been a mistake. Despite knowing that Mason would be here, you were enjoying one of your last nights in the city with your friends.

With your feet sore and your body vibrating, you walked away from the girls and across in front of the players who were taking a break after two hours of intense partying. You needed to get some air and wash your face shortly, or you could literally pass out right here. With wandering steps you arrived at the dark corridor surrounded by silence and calm, reading the sign that indicated where the bathrooms were.

But cold fingers encircled your forearm when you tried to reach your destination, preventing you from moving forward. The strong masculine smell of the expensive perfume so characteristic that he used to wear reached your nostrils when you mentally cursed.

You couldn't face it now. You were not in all your senses and feared for your mental integrity.

"Are you going to Norway?" he asked simply, turning to him. "Why did not you tell me?"

The tone of his voice made you heartbroken. Was he so cynical to act like he cared?

"We are not friends, I have nothing to tell you"

The words were strong and direct. So much that they seemed to affect him, he opened his mouth to say something and couldn't say it.

"What, Mason?" you snatched. "You don't care about me at all, you made that clear a few times."

And you weren't lying. Although he had never explicitly said so, you knew he wasn't interested in you, just that you were Sophie's friend, his friend's girlfriend, nothing more. The four of you had tried many times to go out, you even had dinner together after the games, but you always clashed and ended up arguing.

You were like black and white, cat and dog, oil and water. Mutual teasing, ironic and sarcastic responses, pure tension.

You weren't exactly friends, just acquaintances who hated each other.

"I do care," he grumbled, getting closer and closer. "You will fulfill your dream, of course it matters," he said a little more relaxed.

“You don't have to pretend, Mason"

“Shit, Y/n"

You released yourself from his grasp with tears stinging his eyes. You hated that he will try to worry now. Like he wants to stop you or just make you feel bad.

What did he want?

Again, his fingers gripped your body. But this time, his hands encircled your lower waist, turning you back towards his body, guiding you as you felt his lips impact yours roughly.

The butterflies in your belly began to flutter when his hands ran over your back, bringing you closer until his bodies were stuck together and his tongue lashed out against your mouth. You felt a tremor in your legs when the ideas in your head dispersed and you did nothing but enjoy the kiss of the person you hated the most.

When your lungs gasped for air, you pressed down on his chest, pulling him away a bit.

Pulse racing, lips swollen, and heart pounding, you held his face in your hands.

Why didn't you push him away? Why didn't you yell at him and run away from him? Why did you want to keep kissing him? Why was your heart beating so hard in your chest?

"I can't let you go," he whispered as his eyes met. "Not now"

You denied without being able to understand it.

"I need you"

“No, Mason. You don't need me, you're just playing me."

"No, I don't," he denied, squeezing your waist. "I'm in love with you, Y/n."

You closed your eyes without being able to believe it. He didn't mean it, he was fucking with you like he always had. He just wanted to ruin your night...and your life, pretty much.

"Look at me," he whispered so close to your face that you could feel his warm breath against your nose.

"Mason..."

"I love you" he said taking your breath away.

You denied again, you couldn't fall for that. Not now, not when you had decided to leave the country and leave whatever it was you felt for him behind.

"I've always liked you, ever since we met, but I couldn't say it. I didn't know what i wanted, not until a few hours ago"

Tears spilled down your face. How could he do this to you? Confession at this moment, while the alcohol flowed in their blood, the heat invaded their spaces, the feelings floated from their bodies.

"I liked arguing with you, making you angry, seeing you tense when I'd get close and then walk away, I didn't want it to happen but it did" he continued saying with those eyes.

Those eyes.

"I hate you, Mason" you spat through gritted teeth.

"Say that again" he asked, holding you tightly.

"I hate you, Mason Mount" you repeated at his request and it was enough for him to stamp his lips against yours for the second time that night.

#mason mount #mason mount x you #mason mount x reader #chelsea #england #mason mount imagine

316 notes · View notes

paranoidginger · 26 days

Text

Last but not least, we have the Defense team!

Starring Heavy, Demoman, and Engineer!

Nicolai, the heavy weapons guy of team Blu, is a gentle giant with his teammates and a force of destruction for his enemies.

More intelligent than anyone gives him credit for, he is usually pretty quiet, but still more talkative than his Red counterpart. His English is better, although he still struggles occasionally with remembering certain words.

An avid reader in his free time, he will often discuss the stories and plotlines in his books whenever people will listen, although it is usually only Johann who will indulge him, leading to the pair bonding over literature quite often.

Nicolai is fiercely loyal to his team, and far less attached to his weapons than Mikhail, fully willing to drop anything to make sure he can protect his team.

He is the resident Chef of the team, and thoroughly enjoys branching out and trying new foods, although it's hard for him to pass up a classic sandvich.

Unfortunately, due to his loyalty and protective nature, it is incredibly common for him to end up seriously injured and in his medics care, something he doesn't mind, because it means that he gets to see Johann in his element.

When it comes to the demolition expert, bombs are not the only explosive thing about Finnegan.

He is an excitable man with an addiction to adrenaline. He has a rough and tumble exterior, but is a kind, sweet individual towards his team. He gets along great with nearly everyone on the team, especially Scout, Pyro, and Soldier.

It isn't uncommon for him to give his teammates hugs, and he's one of the best at raising his team's spirits.

Although he does enjoy the occasional glass of scrumpy, or bottle of beer, he doesn't drink nearly as much as Tavish, and does his best to work through his problems in more productive ways, although he will admit that when he does occasionally get drunk, he comes up with some of his best ideas.

Ben Connagher, keeping the last name of the man he was cloned from, the engineer of the blue team takes the mad scientist roll from the medic. Far more experimental in his buildings and machinery, he is dying to get his hands on a functioning robot, if only to take it apart and find out how it works, something rather difficult when you're on the battlefield destroying the things.

When it comes to his form of mechanical science, unfortunately for everyone who cares about him, self-mutilation is not off the table, as evidenced by the removal of his own hand just for the sake of replacing it with a mechanical one. It isn't uncommon for him to try and talk Johann into helping him with attempting to augment himself in one way or another.

Despite his mad scientist demeanor, he can be a sweet man, caring a whole lot for his team, even if he does seem more interested in his machines a lot of the time.

Unlike Spy, who tries his hardest to keep their relationship ambiguous, Ben is clearly head over heels for the man, going through a period of severe depression during the time that the Spy had been headless and stuck in an enemy fridge. He spent most of his time isolated and doing nothing but working on his machines during that time.

He has essentially adopted Scout, and helps with trying to teach him how to read properly, as well as teaching him other basic skills alongside his actual father, the Spy.

#cloneblu #engiespy #practical espionage #napoleon complex #tf2 #tf2 defense team #heavy tf2 #heavymedic #tf2 heavy #heavy weapons guy #tf2 demoman #demoman my belemoman #team fortress demoman #team fortress 2 #engineer tf2 #tf2 engie #tf2 engineer

46 notes · View notes

bluesyjean · 9 months

Text

The Wedding at the End of the World has so many enjoyable character moments. You just have to completely suspend your disbelief for how they managed to do literally anything depicted in the episode, and who really cares if it makes sense? It's a great setup and gives every character something interesting to do.

Hot takes:

Love that we're continuing not to address Five's very obvious alcoholism. He's literally got a bottle or a glass in hand every scene and nobody can blame him.

It's the One Episode where Sparrow!Ben isn't a cartoon character, and good for him. I feel like it took until this episode to find him. I desperately needed more human-shaped Ben and less arch villain, please continue this trajectory.

Reggie's toast/poem at the wedding is iconic and also probably about his wife?? We don't talk about this enough. I'm obsessed with everything he says. The sun rises over a lily’s field A mother veiled, her lips concealed The mourners come in droves of black To bury what their hearts unpack With shallow breath and time eclipsed, I pray you miss death’s gentle kiss

Only major complaint is that 'Teenage Dream' cover. Ugh. I know they were so happy to get this in, but it's not the vibe that I enjoy from my Umbrella Academy soundtrack.

#tua #the umbrella academy #five hargreeves #tuamre #ben hargreeves #reginald hargreeves #tua hot takes #I know this is a lot about tua but I'm enjoying the rewatch!

155 notes · View notes

winterspiderpurrs · 9 months

Text

Okay, but maybe Spiderman helps out the Avengers if they need it or if he is in the neighborhood. They don't know who he is. They want to know, of course. But respect his right to be anonymous. Doesn't mean they won't ask questions to try to figure it out though.

Maybe he lets more info slip on occasions. The latest was when he asked Bucky what he was doing for Rosh Hashanah. Which causes him to pause. Most people, if they know their history, know that Bucky was Jewish. But no one really talks about it though. And with the team not being overtly religious other then Steve who still attends mass. It comes as a surprise.

Says he doesn't have anything planned. Other then maybe relaxing.

And the team who is obviously listening in are shocked when Spiderman offers for Bucky to come celebrate.

" It's in a neutral area. Friend of a friend's apartment. Like... it's more Xmen people who I know but still! Ben Grim will be there. And well... probably Deadpool and DareDevil, even though they aren't Jewish. Double D makes me attend mass at least once or twice a year, so he gets forced to join us. We still get everyone together to celebrate and ... if you wanted, you could join..."

Bucky saying he will think about it.

And maybe once September rolls around, Bucky is standing in front of a door with a couple bottles of wine. He was not expecting this doe eyed college kid to open the door. A suprized look on his face. Looking Bucky over seeing him bringing wine.

There is lots of laughter in the background, Deadpool screaming that he wasn't going to lose in Mario Kart to a big Rock, aka Ben Grim. Bucky can see a man sitting at the table with red glasses and a cane, talking with Wanda; another shocker as she isn't around as much anymore. And there are a few other people cheering on the game in the living. He could hear lots of sounds coming from the kitchen. He focuses back on the one who opened the door,

" Hi, Mr. Barnes.... I uh didn't think you would actually show up....thanks you joining us! Not that we wouldn't want you to show! Oh god I'm rambling! Come in! I'm Peter Parker, by the way.... let me introduce you to everyone"

#i just want cute domestic fluff #jewish!bucky barnes #jewish peter parker #jewish!bucky #jewish bucky #jewish bucky barnes #jewish spiderman #writing prompt #winterspider #peter parker x bucky barnes #winterspiderpurrs

168 notes · View notes

softlyspector · 2 years

Text

Solid Ground

Summary: Benny likes you a lot, you like Benny a lot. Both of you are determined not to get that.

Pairing: Ben "Benny" Miller x Reader

Word Count: ~13.2k

Warnings: idiots in love, pining, canon level violence, PTSD, mental health issues, panic attacks, mild harassment and threats of violence

A/N: Thank you for reading! Again, I am so very aware I’m writing in what is probably a dead fandom for a meh movie. That being said, please let me know what you think!

The afternoon is slow, hot.

Like most afternoons at the bar.

The Florida air is so heavy and thick with humidity, it feels like something you could swim through if you really tried. There’s a lethargic weight in the air, like you’re slowly sinking into the mire of your own life, the dreariness of the mundane and the everyday.

All the folding doors are open onto the deck that overlooks the lake, umbrellas open over the tables to keep the sun at bay. But the only patrons, a group of older men that come in at the same time everyday to drink together, currently sit inside beneath the lazily rotating ceiling fans.

The only balm against the pain of manning a tiny bar in a small town that hardly saw any customers during the endless afternoon shift, is that the owner doesn’t mind you reading on the clock if there are no customers that need your attention.

John likes you well enough and knows you’re competent. He also knows how slow things can get, but refuses to close up shop during the afternoons. He’s ran the bar the same way for forty years, and he’d be damned if he started doing things differently just because the town’s population and tourist traffic had shrunk a little.

So, once your regulars are taken care of, happy with beers and lowball glasses of whiskey straight, you take a seat on the barstool behind the counter and prop open your book against a bottle of tequila.

Sweat drips down your spine as a warm, heavy breeze drifts through the bar, bringing you the scent of lake water and sunshine. A local rock station plays lowly from the overhead speakers, and a peace settles between your bones. The low conversation and sudden loud chuckles from the regulars, along with the buzz of crickets and cicadas, the lap of water against the wooden poles of the deck, make for good background noise.

The front door opens and you glance up, trying not to look too excited, too giddy. But a smile pulls at your lips despite your best efforts.

And Benny Miller smiles openly at you, unabashedly happy to see you. He beelines toward you, waving at the regulars who all know him by name in this small town.

They know Ben Miller the MMA fighter, Ben Miller the soldier.

But they also know him as Benny Miller the troublemaker, as Will Miller’s little brother Benny.

“Hey, Ben,” they call and he glances over his shoulder to flash that famous Benny grin, hyena wide and begging for trouble.

The breeze carries the scent of Benny’s soap and cologne to you. Though he’s in jeans and a t-shirt, you can tell he’s just finished up at the gym, the edges of his hair still damp beneath his usual backwards ratty cap.

“Hey babe,” he coos at you, dropping a battered copy of the last book you’d loaned him onto the counter before rounding the bar to envelope you in a hug that nearly knocks you out of your seat.

“Easy,” you remind him even as you fold one arm tightly around him, smoothing your fingers down his spine, that clean soap and earthy smell that’s distinctly Benny wrapping around you. “Hey, pretty boy.”

He clings onto you, his nose pressed against your temple, for just a tad too long. And you have to tap his back with a laugh when your lungs feel like they might collapse.

He skims his lips across your forehead before releasing you, grinning big and wide at you as you snap your own book closed to give him the attention you know he's about to demand. “Miss me?” he asks as he takes a seat on the opposite side of the counter.

“You don’t give me much of a chance to miss you, Miller,” you say, raising a brow at him. “We see each other almost every day.”

“And ya miss me every single day,” he confirms to himself with a nod, nudging the book he deposited on the counter closer to you. “I liked this one.”

“Really? I’m a little bit surprised,” you pick the book up and flick through your worn copy of Stephen King’s Carrie. “Why’d you like it?”

“Big fan of goin’ out with a bang,” he grins, leaning over the counter to brace his forearms against the bar and drop his head. You can hear his leg shaking where he bounces it against the floor on the other side of the bar.

You shake your head and take the book to stack on top of your own. “You want another one or are you good for now?”

“Sure, what d’ya got for me?”

“Why don’t you come over to my place and you can pick something yourself?” You offer. “And you know you don’t have to get something else right away? You can take a break.”

In the months you’d known Benny, he’d never struck you as a reader. But a couple of weeks ago he’d suddenly asked for a recommendation. Benny, you’re almost positive, has undiagnosed ADHD, so his sudden interest in something like reading had surprised you, though you'd been happy to recommend something to him. You were more than happy to have an excuse to invite him over to your place, if only to look through your book collection.

Benny preferred motion and action to something like sitting down with a book - MMA, fishing, running - literally anything but sitting down for hours on end. Stillness and silence did not suit Benny and you almost wonder how it was that he was getting through your books so quickly.

Whatever the reason for his foray into reading, you're glad for it, glad to have someone to talk with about books.

“Nah, I’m good,” he laughs. “I got you to keep up with now.”

You roll your eyes, “Do you have to be competitive about everything?”

“Yeah.”

“You want anything today? Or are you just bored again?”

“No,” his eyes flick over you, the corner of his mouth twitching up. “Just knew you’d be missin’ my company.”

Benny never orders anything, not since the day you met him and not unless he hung around long enough for the dinner crew to start drifting in. He mostly just came in to keep you company - as he put it, or annoy you - as you’d put it.

“That so?” You can’t help but grin, shifting in your seat to cross your arms over your chest, “And who told you that, huh?”

He smiles wider at you. “You always gotta be so mean to me?” He jokes, lifting his gaze and peering at you from beneath his lashes, eyes wide and open and so pretty it makes your breath stall.

You glance away from him, skimming your thumb over the pages of your book instead, to avoid meeting his eyes, a gaze that hid absolutely nothing from you. “Any other thoughts about Carrie?”

“Not about her, no.”

“What about then?”

“Thinkin’ about how I’m so smokin’ hot you can’t even look at me.”

You flash your eyes back up at him, “Careful, Ben, I might think you’re flirting with me.”

“Oh, honey, trust me, I’m trying.”

You reach out and touch a yellowing bruise at the edge of his temple. He winces against your touch. “Maybe. Good thing I think you’re pretty when you’re a little rough around the edges, huh?” You try not to think about how he leans into your hand, reaches up and holds your hand to his face, even when you press your thumb harder into the bruise.

Benny Miller had stormed into your life for the first time a few months ago. It had been raining, a temperamental, torrential rain that had the bar’s parking lot flooded in minutes.

He’d swung through the door mad as hell, his lip split, his cheek cut and bruised, soaked to the bone. His t-shirt had clung to him in all the right places, ridges of muscle and padding visible beneath. Cerulean blue eyes had been nearly eaten up by the black of his pupils.

A bandage had been wrapped around his upper arm, partially undone and spooling down his bicep, boots thumping against the worn floorboards as he closed in on you at the bar.

You had wondered for a half a second if you should be afraid of him, alone in the bar as you were, even the regulars kept away by the horrible weather.

But he’d only sat at the counter and brusquely ordered a beer. Those blown out pupils - so easily mistaken for fury, had held something deeper.

Fear.

He had been terrified of something, fingers drumming nervously on the bar, a shake in his hand.

“Little early for that, isn't it?” You’d asked, watching his brows tilt up as he ran a hand through locks dampened and darkened by the rain. “Rough day?”

“Sweetheart,” he’d said, his voice low and graveled with just a hint of a twang. It was a voice that had made you melt, that softened everything inside you into mush. “You have no fuckin’ idea.” He sounded exhausted, breathing hard and fast like he’d just got done running a race.

You’d raised a brow at that and handed him the beer you poured from the tap. For a few long minutes, you only watched him sip his beer.

Veteran, you’d marked him out easy.

And he needed a distraction - so you chatted at him, telling him about how you’d rewatched Top Gun recently, mindlessly talking as the tension slowly rolled out of his shoulders and his grip on the glass loosened until his fingers weren’t quite so white with pressure.

You still wouldn't be sure, even months later, if he’d heard a word you said that day. But your voice alone had seemed to be enough to ground him.

“I got a first aid kit here. Want me to take care of that for you?” You had eventually offered when his breathing stabilized, nodding at his busted cheek. “So you don’t go home with an infection. Gangrene or something.”

He’d barked out an unexpected laugh at that. “Don’t think I’m at risk for gangrene,” he snorted.

You shrugged. “Want me to or not?” His only answer had been a sheepish nod, an offering of his face to you with a jut of his chin.

He hadn’t told you what happened and you hadn’t asked. You had only moved around the counter, cleaned the cut and stuck a butterfly bandage over it, dabbed the blood from his split lip where he'd worried a wound open with his teeth. You had changed and rewrapped the bandage on his arm. The gauze was old and clearly hadn’t been changed in awhile.

And while it looked like he’d been shot, you hadn’t mentioned it.

“What’s your name, honey?” he’d asked you when you finished, his voice saccharine to your ears, slow and sweet and so low, like gravel wrapped in sunshine.

And, oh, you’d liked that. Liked how he sounded when he called you honey. Liked the slow, sweet drip of it.

You gave him your name, and he’d repeated it back to you, like it was something vital that needed to be committed to memory, your hand still on the curve of his bicep, your body still very close to his. “Ben,” he’d informed you, even though you hadn’t asked for his name in return. “Benny Miller. You knew around here?”

“Been in town just a couple months. But just started workin’ here.”

“And you always patch up customers like this?” He’d asked, the last dregs of anger and fear lingering around him dissipating fast, a smile that you would come to know as his signature look spreading over his face.

“Only the pretty ones, Miller.” Without realizing it, you’d gravitated so very close to him, his thighs bracketing your body but not touching you as you worked on his face. Something warm had bloomed between you then, that made you step back and look away, that made you take your hand off his arm where his skin was so warm it burned.

Something bloomed between you that would make Benny hang around for the rest of your shift, that made him walk you to your car, and come back the next day and the next day and the next…

“Not pretty,” he'd disagreed. “Handsome? Yeah. Hot? Fuck yeah.”

You laughed, watched him beam with pride at the sound. “With eyes like those? Ben, you’re pretty.”

And ever since that day, he’s made a point to stop in the bar during the afternoon. He claims he has time with the way his training schedule works out and you can’t really complain. Benny makes good company. He’s a good storyteller, loud and energetic and fun, and always interested in whatever you have to say even if he doesn’t always remember what exactly you say.

He’s become a constant presence in your life, a fast friend that stuck. And soon enough, it became hard to imagine your life without him, without his regular appearances at the bar.

More often than not he hangs around until your shift ends, walks you to your car, still talking, before asking you to take a drive with him.

And you always find yourself saying yes.

Benny can talk. He chats constantly about anything and everything - MMA, baseball, anecdotes from his time in the military, his little family of friends. Lately, he talks with you about the books he borrows, movies you watch and rewatch together.

The military thing comes up suddenly and without preamble, like it's something everyone already knew about him, ingrained into his identity. And although he openly tells you about his service, there’s a pain that lies beneath, something that he’s not yet come to terms with, a crinkle in his brow that concerns you.

Some days, his hands shake a little.

Some days, his breathing isn’t ever quite even.

Benny is going through something, and you think he hasn’t told a soul about it.

You quickly felt at home in his passenger seat, going too fast down country roads, listening to him talk, radio all the way up, windows all the way down.

Sometimes you go to the lake, sometimes to an empty, open field that Benny seems to know well - sitting in the back of the jeep with the seats down until the stars come out.

You’ve spent almost all your free time with Benny over the last few months. You go to baseball games together on the Fridays he doesn’t have an MMA match, and spend most Saturday mornings fishing together. His face is usually stained yellow and green from the previous night, broken blood vessels blooming purple and red, a cut to the cheek and above his brow. You always call him pretty and he always pretends to hate it.

You’ve gone to Topgolf together more than once and been kicked out each time for being too loud and rowdy and drunk. He’s taken you to the shooting range and taught you how to handle a weapon though you insist it's not knowledge you want or need, while Benny insists that it is.

He somehow becomes your best friend, worms his way inside your heart, in such a short period of time that you can’t imagine your life without him, especially not in this town.

Now, Ben leans back when you pull your hand away from his face, flexing not so subtly. You can tell by the way he sits, the bunched coil of muscle in his forearms twisting as he settles more fully in his chair, chest puffed out.

You roll your eyes at the display. Ben’s flirting is about as subtle as a hammer to the head.

“Well, actually, babe, I have a bone to pick with you.”

“Oh?”

“Yeah. Invited you to my fight and you didn’t show. You’re making a bad impression with my buddies. They’re starting to think I made you up.”

He says it so casually, almost like it’s a joke, a megawatt smile still on his face, but you can tell Benny is hurt. Your heart gives a painful thump and you cast him a small smile in return. “I told you I wouldn’t be able to make it, didn’t I?”

“Sure ya did,” he whines, leaning forward again, “But I thought you meant it in a faking me out kinda way so I’d be surprised.” Before you can respond, he continues, fidgeting with a loose bit of wood on the counter. “What was so important anyways? You have a date or somethin’?”

You slap his hand away from the wood before he can damage the scarred bar more than it already is. Benny never stops moving, fidgeting, usually destroying napkins and paper drink coasters and straw papers in droves as he talks to you. “Yeah, actually. And what happened to that fidget thing I got you? The pop-it?”

And the stress ball, you think. To help with whatever he was bottling up inside, waiting for the emotions to shake up and erupt in a bout of anger instead of dealing with them beforehand.

Benny ignores your question and goes deadly still, the vibrations echoing through the floor from his bouncing leg ceasing. “You serious?”

You feign nonchalance, twisting the liquor bottles in front of you so their labels face out. “Yep. So serious. We fucked in the parking lot and he bought me Taco Bell after,” you deadpan.

Ben laughs, the sound loud and unapologetic, so very Benny it makes something in you ache. But there’s something else in that laugh too - relief. “Really, though.”

“For real,” you say.

You had gone on a date, but it had been a bad one. One in which you had been bored out of your mind. One in which your date talked at you and not with you. He had been so low energy - or maybe he hadn’t been. Maybe you’d just been comparing him to Benny, who made everyone seem low energy.

You’d had dinner and left. There hadn’t been any random detours to the batting cages or a race against time down back roads, no here, honey, lemme show you this ice cream joint by the water-

It had been a date where you thought of a different guy the entire time, wondering if Benny was looking for you at his fight, wondering if he was getting his ass handed to him or making some money with a win.

The truth is - Benny terrifies you.

You’re terrified of him, you’re terrified of the way he makes you feel, of the heart pounding, blood warming way he looks at you.

And you know that he wants something from you.

And it's something you aren’t really willing to give.

Benny is a flirt, a curl of energy that bounced from thing to thing with surprising ease. The only constants in his life were his family and the military and fighting - and you do not fit into any of those spaces.

Benny loses interest in things at a rapid rate, and you’re sure you’re just another stepping stone, something that would only hold his attention briefly.

And you do not want to become just another thing that Benny Miller lost interest in.

You don’t want a night with him, especially if it meant losing him after, of losing these conversations, these moments, all the things you’d done together and shared. You don’t want to lose his friendship.

Friendship for Benny is made of much sturdier stuff, long lasting and fierce.

And if Benny wanted more than that, he’d just tell you. He’s one to take the things he wants, or at least ask, instead of letting them fall into his lap.

So you keep him at arm's length, knocking him back a step or two each time he hints at something besides this thing you have with him now. And meeting his friends, going to one of his matches, feels too close for comfort, feels too personal and raw and vulnerable.

You would lose Benny and the things truly closest to his heart if you were to let that happen.

Besides, you’ve been left alone before and you aren’t keen on it happening again.

He rolls his eyes at you, “Uh huh, sure.” Benny drums his fingers against the bar, though he doesn’t sound particularly convinced. “Listen, I get it's intimidating -,” he starts when you scoff at his assumption, “Hold on! Let me finish! I know it's intimidating but I’m always fine. And it would mean a lot to me. And the guys.”

You soften. That he thinks you don’t want to go because you don’t want to see him hurt, makes your chest ache.

“Oh believe me, Ben, I’d love to watch you get your ass kicked.”

He flashes a smile at you, yanking the ball cap off his head to toss onto the counter. You lift a brow at him as he laces his fingers together against the back of his head, arms wide. “Oh yeah? Perfect opportunity right in front of you then,” he says with a shit-eating grin. “But I’m usually the ass-kicker.”

You’re always surprised at just how much room Benny takes up, the space he occupies without a care in the world, summer gold skin washed out in the low lighting of the bar. You also really don’t mind the pull of the band of muscle in his arms, or the way his shirt rides up so you can see the flat of his belly, the dark trail of hair. “Of course you are,” you roll your eyes, forcing yourself to focus only on his face.

Benny’s expression splinters, his smile fading for just a second, brows tilting down. “Is it something else? Why don’t you -,”

He’s interrupted when the front door blows open and your name is called. You cringe, John’s horrible son Victor violently thrusting into you and Benny’s safe little world. You'd hated Victor before you met Benny, for the way he looked at you, the slimy innuendos he made, but you hated him even more after.

He and Benny had gone to high school together, hated each other then too. And Victor never lets Benny forget that he thinks he’s trash.

“Oh, and Miller is here too. How wonderful,” he snaps, the smile he’d been directing at you turning to a scowl when his gaze lands on Ben.

Benny bristles immediately, standing up and knocking his stool back but not over. “What the fuck is your problem?” He asks loudly. “You always got some shit to say to me.”

“Just wondering how you can get drunk in the middle of the day, everyday. Don’t you have a job?” Victor’s eyes flit over Benny’s broken face, the bruises that never quite faded. “Oh. Right. You get the shit kicked out of you for a living.”

“Better watch your fuckin’ mouth,” he snarls, the converstaion of the regulars in the corner coming to an abrupt halt. Benny’s never afraid to defend himself, and he certainly wasn't afraid to make a scene while doing so. “I don’t lose much.”

You hold out a hand when Benny starts around the counter. “Benny,” you say gently, “C’mon. Stop it.”

Victor stops next to you, his hand going to your hip and you force yourself not to jerk away from his touch, as he intentionally tries riling Benny up. “Yeah, Miller. Stand down. We all know how good you are at following orders and not using your brain.”

Benny’s chin tilts down, eyes on Victor’s possessive hand against your waist. Something goes dark in his gaze and this time he does come around the bar.

You move quickly, grabbing Benny’s hat off the counter and both your books before shoving Victor’s stupid ass behind you as he laughs. “Fuckin’ idiot, it's like you want to get the shit kicked out of you,” you mutter at him as as you step in front of Benny. He's fuming, leaning against you, pushing with a gentle strength, unwilling to hurt you to get to Victor.

Benny would never hurt you, but he looks like he’s considering shoving you out of the way. His eyes go cold as he watches Victor over your shoulder and you don’t turn because you don’t want to know what gesture he’s doing behind you. You press into Ben, leaning hard against his solid frame, laying one hand flat against his sternum. “He’s not worth it. Let it go. For me, Benny?” You plead with a calm you don’t feel, “C’mon, I’ll walk you out. Leave this asshole to man the bar.”

He smirks at that, sliding an arm around your shoulders, holding you hot and tight and close against his chest. You swear you can feel his heartbeat. “Anything for you, sweetheart,” he says, the lilt of fury still lingering in his voice. You pull out of his arms and he follows you out of the bar easily when you tug him after you.

“You always do everything you’re told, Miller?” Victor calls after your retreating backs.

“Fuck you,” Benny snarls over his shoulder. “Only when she’s the one asking.” And he sounds almost proud.

Proud that you chose him, proud that you commanded him.

Something in you shakes, that this hot headed man listens to you.

You keep one hand behind you, tucked into Benny’s elbow so that he doesn’t get any ideas about bolting back to give Victor the beating he very much deserved.

“I hate that fucker,” he says when you finally pull him outside to cross the parking lot towards his jeep, his hand trailing down your arm to lace his fingers with yours. “Always have. Made all the girls uncomfortable in school. And the way he fuckin’ talks about you-,”

“I hate him too, Benny,” you interrupt. “But he’s my boss’s son, what am I supposed to do?” You pause by the driver’s side door and reach up to tuck Benny’s hat back onto his head, cradling your books against your chest as you stroke some stray hair back from his forehead. “Go easy, darlin’. He shouldn’t fuckin’ talk about you that way either. Fucking snob.”

“I’m used to it,” he says, breaking your heart just a little bit. “But you don’t hear the shit he says when you aren’t around. I should have knocked his teeth down his throat weeks ago.”

You close your eyes briefly, hearing every horrible thing Victor has ever said to you about Benny. Namely that he was stupid and mean and not worth the time you spent on him. “Yeah, well, ditto,” you say bitterly, blinking up at him, the last argument fresh in your mind.

“He’s a loser and he always has been. He’s lucky he has Will for a brother and feels like he needs to play catch up and get out of his shadow or he wouldn’t have made it out of high school.”

Benny watches you, eyes darting between the bar’s door and you, his expression souring by the second as he monitors you. “Don’t,” you warn.

“Not gonna,” he says innocently.

“Liar.”

“Why don’t ya wanna come to my matches?” He asks abruptly, remembering what you’d been talking about before you were interrupted.

You sigh, “It's not that I don’t want to. I’m just-,” you fidget on the spot, trying to decide how to put it, wiggling your fingers at him. “-I just worry about you.”

It isn’t untrue, just not exactly the reason you didn’t want to go.

“Bullshit,” he says, calling you out.

“Benny,” you say gently, ducking your head to avoid his eyes. “I-,”

He shakes his head, “Don’t worry about it. I got you.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Just what I said. I got it. You don’t want to,” he yanks open the door and you’re forced to stumble back a few steps as he climbs in. The engine roars to life and Benny rolls the window down to look at you. “Forgot. Got this for you. Meant to bring it in with me,” he says, handing out something rectangular, wrapped in pink paper.

You take it from him, peering up at him before you abruptly tear the paper and he groans, “Don’t open it now.”

But you just keep shredding the wrapping paper until a book is revealed to you, a limited edition of one of your favorites. “Oh,” you say, running a finger down the cover. You’d been looking for this particular edition for over a year. “Oh, my God! Benny, how’d you find this?”

He shakes his head, “Don’t worry about it. You like it?”

You clutch it to your chest. “Fuck. Yes. Thank you.” You stare at Benny, and he stares back at you, the sweltering heat pinching at your skin. Since when did Benny go hunting for obscure books? Since when did he read in his limited free time?

“Fuck, Benny. Listen, I’m sorry, okay? I just don’t know how to explain it right. Can I ride along? Lemme go tell Victor to fuck off and we can go to my place for your book. Dinner on me?”

You know John won’t mind, not if you leave a note that you needed to leave an hour early and that his useless son came in before he was supposed to.

The grin that cracks open Ben’s face could end wars. “Never gonna say no to that.”

Benny really isn’t sure what it is about you that drew him in, like a moth to a flame, that first time he met you - dripping wet and mad as hell when he stormed into the first bar he came to.

He’d just freaked out in a gas station convenience store - panicked and panicked and couldn’t fucking breathe for a full minute before he was able to leave - all because someone was too close to him and he was trying not to put his hand through a freezer door or through the guy’s fucking head.

He hadn’t.

He hadn’t and had been proud of that fact until he was back in his jeep and that tightness in his chest still wouldn’t go away, even though he was safe, even though he’d never not been.

Benny had had half a mind to call Will, to ask him to come pick him up because he didn’t think he could drive, felt like maybe he was having a fucking heart attack.

But then the anger set in, the irritation that now, after everything - this was happening to him.

It was just another thing to add onto the shit that just kept stacking up. He’d heard about guys going through this when they came home. Fuck, he’d seen Will go through it.

But why him?

Why now?

After all these years? After he’d been home for so long?

Just because of the Colombia trip? It wasn’t even close to being the worst thing he’s been through.

Just because one of his closest friends, a man who was like his brother, had been killed in front of him?

Fuck off.

It’s not the first time - it hadn’t been that bad -

For a while he hadn’t realized what was happening to him - why his chest would go tight and the air in the room felt like it had suddenly evaporated.

Fuck, he doesn’t want to be having panic attacks, doesn’t want to think about what he went through, doesn’t want to think about why this was suddenly happening.

And if he doesn't look at it, it can't hurt him. If he doesn't look at it, it would go away.

So he ignored that it was happening at all. Even though it was happening more and more frequently.

Still, that day, his chest was tight, his heart pounding so hard he thought it might explode.

The anger suddenly burned up the tightness, made him so pissed off at himself for being so weak, that he knew he’d be no good in training, and decided to go for a drink instead.

No, he hadn’t punched anyone that day.

And that was good, something to be proud of.

Everything else? Shit.

The cut on his cheek was from an unregulated fight in some fucking parking lot the day before, the bandage around his arm unchanged since he got home from Colombia two weeks before.

Nothing had felt right since they got home. It was worse than before, worse than when he was discharged from service.

Fighting in parking lots? He hadn’t done that shit since high school. Everything felt like it was twisting down and away, the tentative grip he held on his life slipping away with every second.

His first instinct was to do something stupid, to go find a fight or break a speed limit.

But he couldn’t. He shouldn’t.

And so the bar it was.

And you had been there - an unsuspecting buoy in a restless storm, so calm and rock steady, his exact opposite in so many ways.

The immediate sharp burn of your presence, the steady way you’d looked at him, unfazed by the roll of anger that he tried to keep a lid on, how you’d not asked him a damn thing about what happened to him - why he was so torn up and spaced out and mad.

He probably wouldn’t have been able to answer you anyways.

You talked to him as he nursed that beer, told him about a movie you’d rewatched recently - something old and he wishes he could remember now what it was - Top Gun? Back to the Future?

No idea.

Then you’d asked if you could help him out - one nonsensical, calm brow raised.

He’d known in that moment, that he’d never be able to quit you, so suddenly and quick, like a flash of lightning - something inside him locked into place.

But Benny had always been that way with his loyalty, a gut instinct that he trusted implicitly.

He knew you were a person he should keep.

It was like when he’d known that his life would never be the same five seconds into his first day of basic training, like he’d known fighting was what he wanted to do the second he stepped into the ring that first time.

He knew.

Benny knew you were for keeps, that you were going to stick inside him like a burr, something that would be painful to rip out - just like fighting, just like the military, just like Delta.

You’re something he can’t quit.

You’re something unchangeable and steady in his life. You become one of his constants only hours after meeting you.

And he doesn't want you to quit him. Benny wants you to want him too. He wants you to hold on tight, to claw your way into him and make a home there.

But fuck, do you make it difficult.

You are adverse to him making a move, knocking him back again and again. If you hinted that you wanted more he’d shoot his shot but you don’t indicate that.

And that’s fine, it really is.

He’ll be friends with you and nothing else if that’s what you really want.

But that thing you lodged in his heart? It has sharp edges and its starting to fucking hurt, to ache, to bleed.

He spends all his time with you - you’re like a drug he doesn’t want to quit.

And when he’s with you? That’s when he finally breathes normally again, when his blood settles down and he feels like Benny again - he can forget about what happened in Colombia, he doesn’t have to think about the spray of Tom’s blood when he was shot.

He starts spending all his time with you, you become his best friend so suddenly it's almost shocking.

He stops fighting in back alleys and parking lots, and he can tell Will is relieved by the set of his shoulders when the bruising on his face actually gets a chance to fade. He can tell that you are relieved, because you note how his hands aren’t as shaky, you note that the bruises fade and that he doesn’t space out as much, breathing like he’s run a fucking race completely out of the blue.

That fucks him up so bad too, that you’ve noticed the panic.

Still, you don’t come to his matches, you don’t meet Will or Santi or Frankie.

Maybe he’s just something temporary to you even though you have become a constant to him.

And that’s never happened before, and it terrifies him.

He’s always been the one to call the shots in his own life - he’s never had to wait for someone to decide on him. Benny has always been the temporary thing, jumping from relationship to relationship with ease.

And fuck if he isn’t trying to tell you, to light the path so he can shoot his fucking shot. He started reading, and even though he’s coming to enjoy it a little - just because you light up like the goddamned sun when you get to talk about books - it's not easy for him. It takes concentration and frustrated brain power. He thinks for a while maybe you don't get it - but fuck if him taking up reading isn't a flashing neon sign of attraction, of trying to impress you and relate to you, he doesn't know what is.

He looked for a fucking book for you with an intensity he reserved for fighting, for missions, hunting and bidding and cajoling until he got it. Until he felt like he won a fight when he found it.

For you.

Now, he watches you unlock the front door of your apartment. He holds the screen door open for you as you fiddle with your keys, eyes locked on the curve of your jaw as you talk, intoxicated by the scent of you, the movement of your mouth, the flash of your teeth.

He’s pressed close to you, the heat of your body radiating into his as he leans into you.

One thing he really appreciates about you? You’re good with how he expresses himself - the too loud way in which he lives his life, the way he likes to touch.

Too many relationships had soured early - not that he was planning for the long haul but still - because he was too much.

Too loud, too brash, too quick to temper.

You’ve never told him he’s too much, never told him not to be the way he is. You say gentle things like easy to remind him not to squeeze you too tightly in a hug but that’s it and sometimes he needs the reminder, forgets his own strength.

But you never tell him to stop, you never say that he’s too much.

“Jesus, Benny,” you say now when the door finally swings open and you lurch inside. “You’re heavy.”

He grins and toes his shoes off by the door as you do the same. “Sorry,” he says, not sorry at all, tucking himself behind you as he follows you to the kitchen.

He loves your little studio, loves that he can see everything about you in one room, your bookshelves and your pink sheets patterned with tiny little strawberries, your vintage coffee table saved from someone’s trash and the stickers you’ve pressed into your kitchen cabinets.

“I’m going to cook something.”

“We can definitely just get takeout though,” he says, throwing himself down onto your couch with a groan.

He doesn’t need to look at you to know that you’re rolling your eyes. “Ben, one day you’re going to be old and all that shit is going to catch up to you.” He hears you shuffle closer, and then you lean over the back of the couch, peering down at him, “And then you’re going to come to me and complain that I didn’t warn you and feed you better.”

“You still gonna be hounding me when you’re old and gray?”

For a second, your face cracks, an unreadable expression crossing your face before you smile again, some of the light gone from your eyes. “Sure,” you say, voice careful, “Someone’s gonna haveta.”

“We can order pizza,” he says, trying to decide why the look on your face, that flash of uncertainty, made his chest tight, why panic is starting its slow unpredictable crawl up the back of his throat.

Maybe because it reminds him that you’re temporary. Maybe that’s why it's hard to breathe, why Tom’s face and the flash of blood imprints into his mind, why Will’s face stark white while blood drips down his side darts behind his eyes.

Maybe you wouldn't be around to remind him, maybe you aren't planning to be.

Benny relies on very few permanent things, always moving, going, tracking forward and leaving most things behind.

But there are essentials - fighting, Delta, the military - and now, you.

He wants to ask why you’re looking at him like that but the tightness in his chest is rising and he can’t speak.

You place a hand on his chest, and it's heavy and good and it steadies him. His breathing stabilizes. “No pizza. I’ll make spaghetti.” You nod at your bookshelf, “Anything you want is yours, okay? When you’re ready.”

And you walk away, back to the kitchen counter, searching through the fridge for ingredients.

He’s glad you leave him, struggling to find the right rhythm in his breathing even though the breaths come easily.

Since when did people leaving scare him so fucking bad? Since when did anything scare him this fucking bad?

He wonders why you hold him at arm’s length, keeping yourself away from the most important parts of his life, of himself.

Maybe you know you’re too good for him.

He hears what that fucker Victor says about him, that you’re too good to be keeping company like Benny, that he’s an idiot and always has been.

Benny isn’t sure how much of it you believe.

When the pain eases, he stands and pulls himself to your bookshelf, scanning for the most battered copies.

You abuse your books, but only the ones you like, the ones you read again and again, filled with notes and tabs and folded pages, covers shredded to bits. That’s how he knows you love roughly and hard, and it makes picking something out so easy.

The cover of Carrie had been picked apart.

He thumbs out one of the more ruined books and glances at the title - Howl’s Moving Castle. Something clearly for kids. Even better - it’ll be easy to get through.

When he shows you, you smile - “There’s a movie too! We can watch it when you’re done.” You turn back to the stove, “You always have a way of reading my favorites.”

God, the things you don’t realize.

Hours later, when you’ve eaten and cleaned up the kitchen, settled onto the couch with a bowl of popcorn, he decides to try to ask you again about why you didn’t want anything to do with the things that were really important to him.

“Be straight with me for a minute,” he says, turning onto his back so he can look up at you, his head pillowed on your thigh. “Why don’t you wanna come to my matches? Why aren’t you keen on meeting the guys? You don’t have to but I want a reason. It’s important to me. They’re important to me. You're important to me.”

You look startled at his admission but quickly recover, shaking your head as you press your fingers down the center of his chest, tracing slowly back up to his shoulder, across his collarbone. He bites down the urge to say something about just how much you liked to touch him.

“Can you try?” He pleads.

You pause, and Benny waits, even though he’s never really been a patient person. But for you, he'll try.

“I’ve just never been good at being close to people, Ben. It’s hard for me not to feel like the rug is going to be ripped out from under me,” you card your hands through his hair. “I moved here alone. I’m always alone. It’s easier not to be so attached.”

“You think I’m gonna cut and run?”

You don’t answer for a moment and the only sound is that of the movie playing quietly on the TV that neither of you have paid attention to in a while. “No,” you say eventually, carefully. “You aren’t one to abandon your friends.”

Benny, he tries to understand, what that meant you thought about him, that you don't want to come any closer than you already are.

Friends.

He would have to be okay with that.

But it’s late and he’s tired and your hands feel nice when they thread through his hair. “I kept the pop-it,” he says suddenly. “I know I ribbed you about it but I kept it and it helps. It’s actually starting to fuckin’ fall apart because I use it all the time.”

He uses it when he reads your books, so his hands are busy.

“I’ll get you a new one,” you say, like the fact you would means nothing.

You barrel through the front door of the bar, the crash of music and laughter and pool balls clacking together assaulting your already delicate ears, a headache lingering from the day you’ve had.

Benny hadn’t come in during your afternoon shift and you’d been stuck alone with Victor for a majority of that time, your pleas for help via texts to Benny going unanswered.

“Thanks for coming back in,” John says when you meet him at the bar. “Some fucking fight just let out and Sal’s is closed tonight so we got their usual folks too. Promise this is a one time thing,” he adds.

“No problem,” you say with a smile, swinging through the office door to drop your stuff and clock in. You catch sight of Victor as you pass back through the kitchen but avoid his gaze. “Hey, where d’you want me? Bar? Floor?” You ask John when you meet him back by the bar, tying your apron around your waist.

“I need you to take those tables over there,” he points to the far corner. “They haven’t been served yet.”

You nod and cross the bar, trying not to think about Benny, about how goddamned much you’d missed him and how any effort you’d made not to let him worm too closely into your heart had been severely thwarted.

Your Benny hangover coupled with the amount of time you’d been forced to spend with Victor alone has you on edge, tired and unhappy.

You take care of the couple sitting quietly together and a group of chatty girls before you move on to your last table, a group of guys. One of them, a blond with close cropped hair and a beard, looks strangely familiar. He tilts his head at you, like he knows you too and can’t place you.

Ignoring the feeling, you plaster a smile to your face, the pounding at the base of your skull increasing in intensity.

“Hey, sorry for the wait,” you start, laying down some napkins. “We’re a little bit understaffed tonight. What can I get for you?”

One of them, a man with fathomless, dark eyes and gray streaked brown curls, opens his mouth when a familiar voice says your name.

You start to turn just as Benny slams into you from behind, knocking the breath out of you. You jolt into the table as he wraps an arm across your chest, one of your hands coming up to hook at his elbow, to steady yourself. “Benny? What are you doing here?” You turn your head to find him grinning widely down at you, beaming at you like a ray of sunshine, happy to see you beyond what is reasonable.

“Could ask you the same thing, honey. Weren’t you here all afternoon?”

“I was but we’re understaffed so I got pulled back in. What are you doing here?” You ask again.

Benny’s face is a masterpiece of pain. He’s bruised up again, a scarlet cut above his cheek and near the line of his jaw, violent violet bruises starting to turn a painful shade of black and green. “Celebrating. I fuckin’ won tonight! Knockout within a minute,” he crows, looking proud. “And our usual place was closed.”

And John’s words come back to you - some fucking fight just let out and Sal’s is closed tonight so we got their usual folks too. “Congratulations,” you say softly, realizing who the people at the table must be, realizing why Benny had been absent that afternoon.

Normally he told you when you had a fight but you don’t remember him saying anything about this one. He always made a point to invite you, even if he knew you’d say no.

Embarrassment pools in your belly, realizing how long you’ve been letting him hold you, how you’ve only looked into his eyes, his grip so comfortable to you that you hadn’t noticed.

You frown as Benny finally releases you to sit down beside the man who looked familiar to you before. You suppose he looks familiar because he is. He can be no one else but Benny’s brother, Will. “I take it you’re who Benny’s been spending every minute with.”

“Oh, I don’t know about that,” you try to joke, trying not to bolt away from the lot of them, as the careful separation in your mind between your Benny and Benny’s real life crashes down. “Ben’s got so many friends.”

“Not friends like you though,” says the man with those dark eyes, something unreadable brewing in his expression, his voice like ice. Benny shoots him a look that says fuck off.

Ben introduces you by name and then says, “My brother, Will.” He slaps the blond man he’d slid into the booth next to on the back. “Santiago,” he points to the salt and pepper haired man and then the man with the baseball cap pulled low over his eyes, “and Frankie. Better known as Pope and Fish.”

“Nice to meet you,” you manage to say. “I’ve heard a lot about you.”

“So have we,” Santiago says, his tone still crisp. “Nice to know Ben hasn’t been hallucinating you these past few months.”

You suddenly feel like a mouse caught in a trap as you glance at each of them, the hardness in their gazes as they look back at you.

Of course they wouldn’t be keen on you. Benny is like their little brother and you’ve been avoiding what is essentially his family for months, for no good reason at all, at least not in a way that made sense to anyone but you, though Benny had tried to understand.

Your throat tightens and you open your mouth to respond when Benny cuts in, loud and gruff as he always is, “Fuck off, Pope. Leave her alone. Tell her what you want so she can get back to it.”

You glance at them apologetically, avoiding looking at Ben, ignoring his outburst. “Beers? First round is on me.”

“You don’t haveta do that, sweetheart-,” Benny starts, his voice infinitely gentler when he addresses you.

“Yeah, I do,” you interrupt him. “Anything else?”

A chorus of no’s resound and you nod without looking at any of them before briskly walking away. Your hands are shaking as you pour the beers, deciding at the last second to put in for a plate of nachos too. You’d hoped to avoid them, but you should have known better, that in a town so small you’d be bound to run into them at one point or another.

You just don’t want it to hurt when Benny moves on, or for it to at least be as painless as possible.

But that’s not what it looked like to them, not what it looked like to Benny.

Fuck, he must think you don’t give a shit about him, not really.

It wasn't like it fucking mattered anyways, the hurt is coming for you whether you let the closest parts of his life sink into yours or not.

Benny has charmed his way inside you, his friendship like the serrated edge of a knife, cutting deeper and deeper until removing it would be to sentence you to death.

You swipe at your eyes though you aren't in danger of tears and shuffle the beers over on your tray for the nachos before starting back across the bar. You’ve halfway there, paused near one of the wooden support beams so a large group can pass you on the crowded floor when Victor stops by you, awkwardly leaning against the pole and blocking your way. When the group has passed, drunkenly shouting their way out of the bar you grit out, “What do you want?” You're irritated that you’ve had to spend so much time with him today, and that he’s still bothering you.

“Miller’s here,” he says, an accusation in his voice, like you personally invited Benny just to piss him off. Jealousy drips off him. “And you got his table.” Like you'd plotted that too.

“Yep. Won his match. They’re here to celebrate,” you start to move away when Victor leans into your free arm and forces your shoulder back against the beam.

Your breath flutters in your chest as you look up to meet his eyes. “What’s your problem, huh? Why do you hate me so much?”

“You know why. You talk shit about my best friend,” you snarl up at him, something feral rising up in you and chasing away the calm you were known for.

But Victor has pushed you to your limit over the last couple months and you can see the glee in his eyes at getting a rise out of you. You were rapidly approaching your breaking point with him.

He barks out a loud laugh, and it's not pleasant the way Benny’s is. A couple of people turn to look at you but quickly go back to their own conversations. You squirm, trying to get your shoulder out from under his weight. An ache has started to creep up your arm.

“Best friend. Right. Like Miller wants anything but to fuck you. You’re just a conquest, sweetheart.”

“Fuck you,” you say lowly, not willing to admit how that bites at you, how that is exactly what you’re afraid of.

Victor clocks it though, sees the break in your expression that confirms his accusation. “Haven’t put out yet have you? He’ll get bored eventually,” he says, finally pulling his weight off of yours, an ache twisting down to your wrist. “He’s always been that way. I know you’re new to this town but trust me, he tricks everyone with the golden retriever act. Hell, just fucking look at him. Military, Special Ops, can’t stop fighting to save his life. Always in trouble and looks to his brother to tell him up from down.”

You can’t help it, you glance over at their table, Victor’s breath hot on your cheek when he leans in to whisper. “Not exactly stable. Never has been. How long til he does something like that to you?”

Benny and his friends are staring at you across the dark bar. Will has a hand on Benny’s arm, keeping him in place, his fingers white with the effort.

“See, even now he’s itching for blood.”

You wrinkle your nose and turn your face into his, refusing to look away from Victor’s beady eyes. You’re so close your noses almost touch, but you refuse to back down. You bare your teeth at him and grit out, “Another word. One more word against him, and Ben will be the least of your problems. You think Benny’s temper is bad? You’ve been fuckin' trying me all day and I got nothin’ to lose.”

You step closer and grip your tray in both hands to shove into his stomach hard. The glasses rattle but don’t fall. He makes a soft oof sound but doesn't look away, doesn’t back down.

It takes a minute but his eyes drop and he steps back. “You’ll find out the hard way what kind of fucking people they are. All of them.”

The fucker can’t even look you in the eyes as he says it.

You roll your eyes and move away. “Fuck you, coward.”

Your hands are shaking again, but for a completely different reason as you approach the table.

Victor’s starting to get bold, and it's starting to worry you. How long until his obsession with you and your relationship to Benny becomes unhinged? It already kind of is, the way he follows you and watches you, the way he’s been trying to turn you against Ben for months now, the touches and the passing remarks - it's all headed to something unsafe.

For all Victor’s talk, Benny has never made your shoulder ache, has never crowded you or tried to intimidate you or made you uncomfortable.

No, it's not Benny you have to worry about.

You pass the beers out, the plate of nachos, when you stop at the boy’s table. “All on me,” you say more cheerfully than you feel, unconsciously stepping closer to Benny where he sits at the end of the booth, pressing the back of your hand into his bicep, reassuring yourself that he’s there and real. “Yell if you need something else, okay?”

“Hey,” It's Will’s voice that stops you from pulling away. “You okay?”

You glance around as Benny covers your hand with one of his and squeezes your fingers reassuringly, gaze turned toward the bar, eyes tracking something.

“Yeah,” you confirm. “What, Victor? He’s a piece of shit but he’s harmless,” you say with more conviction than you feel.

“Hell of a stare you got,” Santiago says, sounding impressed.

Frankie chuckles and meets your eyes, “Yeah, wouldn’t want you lookin’ at me like that.”

And fuck, you wonder if they heard. If Victor’s voice could have traveled that far. You pull away from Benny’s hand when he tries to tangle your fingers together and say, “Well, I just get protective sometimes.”

You tuck your tray under your arm and turn to walk away when Benny tugs you back, “Sure you’re okay?”

“Golden,” you answer with a smile but he doesn’t look convinced.

And when you glance at the others, you know they overheard you and Victor, because all hostility is gone. They watched you go toe to toe with an asshole for Benny, and now they know they’re missing some vital piece of the picture as to why you hadn't been around, the thing that really kept you away from them and Benny’s matches.

And they’re too skilled, too observant, not to pinpoint exactly what it is.

Benny might not know you’re in love with him, but his buddies suddenly do.

Victor continues to bother you throughout the night but you try not to let it affect you, you try to stay calm despite your earlier threat, if only so there won’t be a scene and Benny can enjoy his win.

The boys, when you stop by their table, have warmed to you entirely. They joke with you, rib you just like Benny does, and the fold you’ve been trying to avoid being dragged into has engulfed you in seconds.

So when the bar finally clears out and their table is the only one left, Frankie gestures you in. “Sit down here for a minute, you’ve been workin' your ass off.”

“Wasn’t too bad,” you say, slipping into the booth next to Benny and Will. “But it's definitely the busiest this place has ever been.”

“So how come you don’t come to the fights?” Santiago asks.

“Pope-,”

“Maybe you guys intimidate me,” you say with a shrug of your shoulder. “I know how important you are to Benny.” You nudge an elbow into Ben’s ribs, “I’m just some waitress.”

They laugh and you feel better, like maybe they might even like you. Benny scoffs loudly at your declaration, and you kick yourself for never meeting them before. Even if you lost Benny, you don’t want to hurt him now. “Just some waitress?” Benny rolls his eyes. “Honey, fuck off,” he says fondly.

“So tell us how you ended up in this shithole town,” Will says. “And how you got this one so whipped,” he locks an arm around Benny’s shoulders.

Benny doesn’t try to deny it, looks a little bit smug, almost happy at the accusation.

“I’m from a small town, different one, did the big city thing, fucking hated it. Ended up here.” You ignore the other question, not really sure how to answer it anyways, but you don’t comment when Ben drapes his arm across the top of the booth behind you.

“Not back home?” Frankie asks you.

“No one at home to go back to,” you say, revealing more than maybe you should. “Found I liked the company here anyways.”

The conversation rolls along easily from there. They’re funny and loud and affectionate with each other in a way that makes your heart hurt. There’s a closeness there that makes you happy, and jealous that you're witnessing so rare a love and bond.

And it makes you feel stupid, because they’re so welcoming to you, they tug you into the center of them and it feels like you’ve always belonged.

Eventually, John calls you away from the boys, wiping his hands on a dish towel - the exact opposite of his son, cordial and funny and kind.

You aren’t sure what happened to Victor to make him so bitter, if he really just has a problem with you and Benny in particular.

“We should be heading out anyways,” Frankie says, laboring to his feet after Santi stands.

You get hugs from all of them, a kiss to your brow from Benny. “We still on for tomorrow?”

Saturday morning fishing, you would never miss it. “‘Course, always.”

“And we aren’t invited?”

“How about beers at Sal’s tomorrow instead?” you offer, not willing to give away your morning alone with Benny.

Santi and Will share a look that Ben doesn’t see, too busy examining the ridge of your shoulder where a bruise is forming from being locked against the beam.

“Sure, we can get you back for the beers tonight,” Will says, one big hand pressing between your shoulder blades briefly.

“No-,”

“Yeah, we are,” Santi says. “We’ll see you tomorrow.”

You watch them file out, Benny turning to hug you hard, breath pressed out of your lungs at the intensity. “Fuck. Thank you,” he says. “For putting up with them.”

“They’re nice.”

“Glad you met ‘em? They’re meatheads but they mean well.”

“They do and I am.”

Benny is almost to his jeep when he decides to wait for you. He wants to be with you, to ride along to your place and sleep on your couch like he has so many times before - so he can see you grouchy and soft in the morning sunshine before you get ready, drink coffee with you at your kitchen table.

God, he’s going fucking soft.

Domestic.

It feels weird but right.

He waits along the side of the building where the back deck of the bar wraps around to the front stairs, the lights that normally line the walkway already out.

He watches John leave, entrusting closing to you and Victor.

Quiet descends, the chirp of the crickets loud and sweet, the sounds of safety and home, when he hears a crash.

Then -

“-fucking stupid. What do you see in him?”

“Why the fuck do you care, Vic? It’s not like I would want you, if I didn’t want Ben.”

His brain statics, not sure he heard right. You want him? Is that what you implied?

“And what’s so fucking wrong with me, huh?”

You snarl back, “Fuck. Really? You’re an asshole and judgemental.”

“It’s not judgement if it's right. Call it like I see it. Ben Miller is -,”

He doesn’t get to hear what he is. “You’re crazy,” he hears you shriek. “Fucking crazy! Even if he was everything you claim, I still wouldn’t want you!”

A rage builds in Benny, and he’s about to move, to come to your aid, when Victor starts muttering lowly again - the conversation seems to peter out into something civil.

Then - the sound of something slamming, a rattling of drink glasses, and low talking. “Fuck off,” you growl suddenly. “You know how fucking brilliant you have to be to make it to where he did? Where all of them did?”

“Luck. And brawn and brother that would do anything for him.”

You let out a disbelieving laugh, “I quit. You can finish closing alone. If your dad asks why I fucking quit, you can explain it to him.”

The front door flies open, smacking back into the wood paneled wall as you go trudging down the steps and across the gravel of the lot.

Victor follows you, catches up to you and jerks you to a halt. “Just give me a chance,” he pleads with you. “One chance. I can make you forget about him. You’ll see what you’re missing.”

“No,” you say. “You couldn’t. No one can.”

Benny’s vision goes red as the hand around your arm tightens, but he freezes when Victor continues, speaking something that Benny is afraid is almost uncomfortably close to the truth of his life.

“He’s a fuck up and a loser and would have been in jail for something stupid years ago if he didn’t have his brother trailing him around and forcing him to make something of himself. It’s a good thing that kid got shoved into the military because he never would have made it otherwise. You’re just going to let him drag you down too.”

“Shut up.”

“I’m serious, you’re pining away after someone that’s never gonna measure up to you. You’re brilliant. He could barely fucking read in high school.”

You jerk out of Victor’s grip, shaking your head and stalking across the parking lot, but he follows you.

Under normal circumstances, Benny would have been across the lot and in that motherfucker’s face in 5 seconds flat, but he can’t move, he’s frozen, watching the tension in your shoulders knot up.

God, he’s waiting for you to agree, to turn and say that he’s right.

But you don’t, you keep moving. And when Victor touches you again, snags at your elbow, every bit of restraint he has dries up.

He lurches away from the wall and stalks after the pair of you. He saw the bruise on your shoulder, he knows that Victor is the worst kind of dangerous to you - that and you’re his fucking girl.

No one is gonna do fuckin’ shit to you without reprecussions.

He’s nearly reached you when -

You turn and land an elbow into Victor’s stomach, he crumbles, curves at the waist and you bring a knee up to crack into his face. He goes sprawling backwards onto his ass as you tower over him with your shoulders thrown back.

God, that was fucking hot.

He’s so proud of you, impressed with the absolute fury contorting your features.

His girl, a fighter.

Of course you fucking are. You’re his.

And he likes this mean streak in you, likes the feral protectiveness that bubbled up.

“Fuck you,” you say and he’s never heard such venom in your voice, such protective laced violence. You glance at him suddenly, looking startled to find him standing there before you lean over Victor’s crumpled, prone form. “I warned you Ben’s temper wasn’t the one you had to worry about, didn’t I? You don’t know a goddamn thing about him. Or me. And if you ever say another word against him in my presence, you’ll get much worse than a bloody nose. Understand?”

“What’s your fuckin’ problem, bitch?” Victor’s back is still to Benny, has no idea that he’s there.

Benny reaches down and hauls him up by the back of his shirt, gets the satisfaction of seeing him go white with fear, of hearing a squeak pass his lips in surprise. “Just makin’ sure you’re listening to the lady,” he says, jerking him roughly into place before smoothing Victor’s shirt out carefully. He gestures to you and crosses his arms, “Go on, sweetheart. Tell him.”

You grit your teeth at him, and Benny decides yeah, he really likes you mean. “I'm a bitch, huh? Because I won’t fuck you? Fuck off. I asked you a question - do you fuckin’ understand or don’t you?”

“Yeah, shit, I got it. You want to be Miller’s special girl so bad it makes you look stupid. He’s not the settling type, babe.” He snaps at you, refusing to acknowledge Benny.

“Damn, so much fucking confidence for someone who’s about to have his ass handed to him,” Benny growls.

“Fuck you, Miller, like you even need the excuse. You aren’t gonna do shit. Neutered after all these years, huh? Contained to a cage.”

Victor yanks out of his grasp and spits at your feet before turning to walk away. But he couldn’t have really expected to do something like that and get away with it.

Running on autopilot and adrenaline and rage - Benny yanks him back by the collar of his shirt and breaks his knuckles against his teeth, breaks the nose that you weakened with your knee. Victor falls again and Benny picks him up by the front of his shirt, slams him into the nearest car.

He brings his mouth to Victor’s ear, feels the tremble and shake of fear. “Ever touch her again, speak to her again - hell, even look at her - I’ll fucking kill you. Got it?” And then lowly, barely a whisper, "She's mine."

He drops Vic to the ground, watches him stumble back and skitter away.

As soon as he’s rounded the corner to the back deck of the bar, Benny turns and wraps his arms around you in a crushing hug, and doesn’t let go even when you tap your fingers against his spine.

“Benny, easy,” you breathe out but you cling onto him harder, and Benny realizes how shaken you are, how scary it must have been to have a man follow you across a dark parking lot. “What are you still doing here?”

“Waitin’ on you, honey. Good thing too, though I think you had it handled. Hell of a swing you got.”

He finally lets you go, your eyes going to his bloody hand and you sigh. “God, we’re both gonna have assault charges," you murmur, tracing your thumb over the broken skin.

“He ain’t gonna say shit. He’s gonna tell everybody he fucked you and went toe to toe with me over it. He’s a liar and little bitch,” Benny says, curling his arm around your waist, his blood settling when you lean into him, hand against his chest. “He’s not going to fuck with you anymore.”

You peer up at him, your gaze still holding a lingering fear, “Thanks for having my back. You coming home with me?”

He nods and you gesture him around the side of your SUV.

When you’re both settled, you turn your keys in the ignition and the engine rumbles to life, but you don’t pull out. You turn and stare at him through the dark, the AC wafting his hair gently. “What?”

“Did you mean that?”

“What?”

“You said - you said she’s mine. Was that just some macho bullshit or did you mean it?”

Fuck.

He licks his lips, thinks about lying, when he shakes his head, looks down, and sniffs. He’s tired of pretending. “Yeah. I meant it.”

It immediately feels like a mistake to say it, and the now familiar icy clutch of panic closes a fist over his lungs, like he can’t breathe, like you are going to tell him to fuck right off.

Like you’re going to yank the rug right out from under him.

He’s done losing constants. He’s done losing the world around him for nothing.

His lungs seize and he feels that familiar stupidity, what a stupid fucking thing to panic over - not killing, not gun shots, not fighting - but losing people.

“Hey,” you say, pressing a steadying hand to his arm. “It’s okay. What’s got you bothered?”

He reminds himself that you already know about the panic even if it’s never been directly addressed, and it hasn’t been too much for you yet.

“You’ve -,” it comes out in a gasp and so he stops, takes a minute to breathe, to ground himself against your fingers when they tangle with his. “You keep batting me back, honey. It’s okay. Just don’t leave. I meant it but it doesn't have to mean anything to you.”

“You think I’m gonna leave?” You ask quietly, “Why? I’m always thinkin’ the same thing about you, Benny.”

His head thumps back against the headrest. “Something’s wrong with me,” he says. “Don’t know what.” One hand rubbing at his chest like it might help the ache ease.

You give Benny a moment to collect himself, for his breathing to even out, for the shake in his hands that he normally tries not to let you see to stop.

“When did it start?”

“We - fucked up mission in - we lost someone. Ever since it's like - I start thinkin’ I’m gonna lose everyone, everything. Got better since I met you.” He glances at you, shakes his head. “Comes and goes, I guess. But anytime it feels like something’s changing or someone is pulling back it’s like - fuck - it’s like I can’t stop seeing blood.”

“You think you’re gonna lose me?”

Benny laughs, his hyena-like wild laugh that you’ve come to love more than anything, “Yeah. Yeah, all the time,” he says. “You have a way of just - you keep knocking me back. You don’t want anything to do with what’s important to me - like you don’t really want anything to do with me and -,”

“Benny you aren’t exactly…you aren’t someone who stays. But you stay with your friends.” You squeeze his fingers, “I would rather be your friend - so I can keep you.”

He stares at you, wide blue eyes tracking your every minute move, adding up what you just said in his mind. You look away from his eyes. “You have a couple things you keep close - I don’t fit into that. And I’ve lost people before. I’m alone and I don’t want to keep being that way. I would rather keep you like this.”

“Yeah, sweetheart,” he says. “And what if that’s bullshit? You fit in just fine. Too well maybe. You never said shit because you thought what? I’m feeling casual about you?” He huffs out a sigh. “I spend every goddamn free second I have with you, or thinking about you. Not just anyone I’d start reading for. You know what it took for me to find that fucking book for you? God it was worse than chasing down fugitives.”

You scoff dismissively, not willing to believe yourself special. You’ve heard that one before. “Yeah, I know how guys like you are, hon. I know.”

“The fuck’s that mean?” He says, not really a question, turning fully to you, pushing you back into your seat, hands lifting to frame your face, large and hot and calloused against your skin. “Lemme tell you something, honey, it only took me a couple hours to know you weren’t something I’d be able to forget.” His eyes flick over your face, “Nah. Never. You are one of my constants.”

“Oh yeah? And what makes me so special?” You say with a roll of your eyes.

“Well for one you just punched the shit out of someone for me,” he says. “And just about everything else. Everything we get up to. We compliment each other. You understand me. We have fun together and you never tell me to be quiet even when I probably fuckin’ should be. You’re my best friend too.”

You reach up and hook one hand against his wrist, trace your thumb over the veins there, softening a bit. “Serious?”

“Yeah. Fuck, yes.”

You nod and move your other hand to his chest. “You punched the shit out of someone for me too.”

“Shoulda happened a long time ago.”

You smile at that and then frown. “You should talk to Will. About the panic attacks. It’s okay that you’re going through something. We’re here for you. But no one’s going anywhere. Not me, not anyone.”

“I’m not either,” he says, ignoring your suggestion for the moment, clearly not wanting to think about the panic attacks or his brother. “I’m not going anywhere either. Trust that.”

And you do.

Benny’s never lied to you and he certainly isn’t cruel. You tug him closer, press your forehead to his and breathe him in until he seems like he’s back to himself.

The closeness is familiar. It doesn’t feel strange to be wrapped up in him like this, you and Benny are this close all the time and it’s always felt right, natural.

“You want me, babe,” he says suddenly, only ruining the moment slightly, and you hear the grin in his voice.

“Fuck off.”

“I heard you. I know you do. S’okay, I want you too.”

When his breath ghosts over your lips and your breathing hitches hard, he surges forward to kiss you roughly.

Its a desperate kiss, one that sears into you, that lights your veins on fire. You push your hands into silky wheat hair, tugging at the strands until Benny shoves back the center console and drags you into his lap, presses you close and tight, his heartbeat matching yours. It’s a little awkward, your jaw smacking into his nose, Benny grunting before you find a good position, giggling the whole time before he’s kissing you again, the heat of him so good around you.

Broad hands splay over your back, trace the line of your spine as you push your hand inside the collar of his worn shirt.

But just as quickly it softens and Benny Miller is smiling into you so hard he can’t really kiss you properly.

“Been waitin’ for this so long,” he says, his mouth brushing yours with every word. You jerk him forward by the back of his neck, pressing him as close as you can, laughing into him.

“Have ya?”

“Fuck yeah,” he murmurs, hissing when you press your thumb into one of his bruises, a bad habit you don't want to quit. “Yeah, shit, I have been. Stupid gorgeous and puts up with my shit.”

You grin, “Sure do, pretty boy.”

He doesn’t correct you, just fastens those cornflower blue eyes on you and asks, “So you’ll be at my next match?”

“‘Course. Can’t wait to see you get your ass handed to you.” You pull back to stroke his cheek, trace a thumb over his bottom lip.

He kisses you again and this time it’s deep and controlled and so good, familiar and unexpected rolled into one.

Feels like home, like there’s solid ground beneath you for once.

#ben miller x reader #ben miller x you #benny miller x reader #benny miller x you #ben miller #benny miller #triple frontier x reader #triple frontier #triple frontier fanfiction #triple frontier fic

2K notes · View notes