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lamentationsofalonelypotato · 2 days

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You Call It Madness But I Call It Love

Chapter 14: You're All I'm Dreaming Of

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

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

Word Count: 5.8K

Warnings: References to sex, Mentions of sex (not really explicit), Self-detrimental thoughts, Cursing, Drinking/Snorting Drugs, Soldier Boy might be, is, really, absolutely, a little OOC, Soldier Boy is really all you need as a warning.

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

Internal Monologue is in first person and is in italics

Series Masterlist

Masterlist

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

Previously:

"Y/f/n Y/l/n?" The dark haired man asks, an accent tilting the ends of his words.

"Who's asking?"

He pulls out a badge, holding it up to the peep hole. "I'm Agent Butcher, this is Agent Campbell. We’re from the CIA, here to ask you a couple of questions about Soldier Boy."

You open the door to look at them. "The rapper?"

"What?" Agent Butcher looks confused.

"The rapper? Soulja Boy-" You arch a brow feigning confusion. "Because honestly I don't understand why the CIA would be asking me about that."

“No.” Agent Butcher holds up a photo.

You keep your face impassive. It’s a photo of Ben and you at a movie premiere the week before he left to go to Nicaragua.

“You’re here to talk to me about my mom?” You flit your eyes back to the two men standing in the doorway, easily slipping into the lie that you and Legend invented.

“Your mom?” Agent Campbell looks confused.

“Yeah. Indigo. Who did you think I meant?" You ask.

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

Present Day

*Soldier Boy POV*

The longer Ben sat in the motel room the more he thought of you. It wasn’t unusual. Ben was always thinking of you, even before he fucked everything up and before you two became supes, Ben rarely thought about anyone else. He hated that he did that, hated that you were always on his mind because he believed that he shouldn’t care about you as much as he did. Because why would you want someone like him? He was a fuck up before and after the serum and you deserved better. You always had deserved better.

When his cage had finally opened your name had been on his lips. He was ready to see you again, tell you how sorry he was, and how much he loved you. He hoped that it was you finally coming to take him away, but it wasn’t.

Y/n said she never wanted to see you again. Of course it wasn’t her.

He sighs and takes a bite of cheeseburger. His first one in 40 years, that the British fuck had gotten him, but it tastes like sandpaper, because he can't focus on anything but you.

"Well we know a few of your old team members are already dead." Butcher breezes pacing in the dingy motel room. "Countess, Gunpowder, Indigo-"

Ben reaches for his knife to grind up the oxy on the table in front of him, hoping that the pills will bring more relief than the whiskey.

It had been three days since he got out of Russia. Two since he visited Legend, when Legend told him that you were dead and Ben threw Legend's red armchair through the window of his apartment.

When Legend said it, Ben couldn't breathe, couldn't grasp that you were really gone. He didn't want to believe it.

You were all he thought the past 40 years, you were the only reason why he wanted to get the fuck out of Russia. He hated himself for what he had done, felt that he deserved the torture, but it was nothing compared to how he had tortured himself over the years.

The last thing he said to you often replayed in his mind and the way you looked when he said it burned against his eyes at night. He hadn't meant to hurt you, he didn't want to hurt you, never did. You were his oldest friend, the only person he knew that could be honest with him, call him out on all his shit, the only person who knew the real him, and the only person he could trust to be the voice of reason when he lost his temper.

And he threw you away like you meant nothing to him, when you were the only person who meant everything, the one person that he actually gave a fuck about.

Ben thought about your last night together often, remembered the dinner in the little restaurant when you wore a dress the color of his suit and looked more beautiful than he'd ever seen you as you danced to the song that always made him think of you. Remembered how he felt when he finally took you to bed, how each time you cried out his name it made him feel proud that it was him making you feel that way, that you wanted him as much as he had wanted you for so long.

Of course, then the memory of the next morning broke in his mind. When he woke up before you and held you closer than he'd held anyone else, slowly stroking your back and watching the gentle rise and fall of your chest as you slept and allowing himself to feel at peace. He couldn’t stop smiling in that moment because you genuinely wanted him to hold you close to him. When he woke up with you in his arms when you were children he feared that you wouldn’t want him to hold you, so he always pulled away, afraid of the rejection. He felt rejection from his father, but Ben knew that if you ever rejected him he wouldn't recover.

And then I rejected her, like a dumb fuck.

Ben was not a cuddler, he didn't think it was manly, but being there with you the morning after was different, and he believed he could have laid there for eternity listening to the soft beat of your heart where you rested against his chest and watch the gentle rise and fall of your body as you breathed. He had trailed his fingers along your spine as you laid on his chest, happy for the first time in his life.

When you told him that you loved him, he had been stunned. He remembered the soft blush of your cheeks and wide smile as you said it. He had wanted to say it back, to hear you say it once more, and to make love to you again while he said it- because he knew that’s what you had done together. He had fucked a lot of women, but that night with you was different, he cared how you felt, wanted it to be good for you, wanted to be everything you needed.

But the thought of you loving him scared him.

As much as it made him a pussy, Ben understood that it scared him.

You shouldn't love him because he didn't think that he could be what you wanted, that after all these years he couldn't be enough for you, and he believed that he shouldn't care for anyone as much as he did for you, because that meant weakness. That meant that every time you were on a mission together he would have to worry about you more than anything else. And Soldier Boy couldn't be weak.

So he pushed you away and ran to Countess. Ben's jaw tightens.

The psychotic bitch that sold me out.

It had surprised him, how recently she had died. Butcher hadn't taken responsibility for it as he had for Gunpowder, which made Ben curious as to who had done it.

"Are you sure that Indigo is dead?" Ben asks taking another bite of the hamburger, but it still tastes like nothing.

He wondered if that was because you were gone and then wondered if he'd ever be able to taste anything ever again.

"What?" Hughie looks up from his bag of food. "Why would you think that?"

"Countess. Y/n hated her." Ben takes a swig from the bottle of whiskey on the table to try and dissipate some of the sadness he felt when he thought of you being gone. "Who told you that y/n was dead?"

"Her daughter." Hughie answers.

Ben freezes, his muscles tightening as a sickening feeling rises in the pit of his stomach. "She-she had a kid?" The thought made jealousy burn in his chest. Someone else had loved you, someone else had been man enough to say the thing that kept him up at night.

Of course she had a kid. She said she wanted a family. I was just too fucking stupid and couldn't admit that I wanted to give her that, to give her anything she wanted because I fucking love her. Did I really think she was going to wait for me? After everything I did to her? After everything I said?

"Yeah-" Butcher shrugs. "Spitting image of her."

"She looks like her?" The thought of seeing you smile again makes something stir in his chest.

But it wouldn't be y/n. Ben reasons to himself. Because she’s gone.

His hand tightens on the bottle of whiskey and he’s surprised it doesn’t shatter in his hand as a wave of sadness comes over him. The memory of you and him at Fairmount Park, when you painted him briefly flashes across his mind and he allows himself to bask in your smile for a few fleeting moments before it’s gone. It makes him feel like he’d taken a knife to the chest at the thought that he’d never see it again and never hear you laugh.

"Yeah. Calls herself the same thing." Butcher continues.

"I want to meet her." Ben states taking one last drag of whiskey from the bottle.

"What?" Hughie chokes on his food.

Ben stands up. "I want to meet her. Where is she?"

"Oi, I don't think that's a good idea. She didn't really seem too keen on seeing you-"

"What do you mean?" Ben spits back, eyes narrowing.

Hughie shifts in his seat uncomfortably and Ben can hear Hughie's heartbeat quicken in fear.

"Don't be a pussy and just tell me." Ben snaps, becoming angry.

"She didn't want to talk too much about her mom. But she did mention how upset her mom was with you." Hughie states.

Ben felt the memories of the past creep up on him again.

Of course she was upset.

He remembered how broken you had looked the night you caught him and Countess. The look on your face forever sealed in his memory. He’d never seen you look so small. Honestly he was surprised that you hadn’t killed Countess that night. If he had walked in on anybody fucking you after the night you shared together, he knew that he wouldn’t have been able to stop himself from killing them.

Because you were his.

He thinks about Howard briefly. Ben had almost killed him before you were supes when he called you his at the dance. It was also difficult to walk away when Howard hurt you.

Ben’s thoughts drift back to Countess. Her body had been burned beyond recognition, but her head was no longer attached. It would have taken an extreme amount of force for someone to do that.

Could she still be alive?

Ben thought about your ability. He was the only one who knew what it really was, that you didn't just come back from the dead, that your body was able to take the power of any supe that killed you. It made you incredibly indestructible, more invulnerable than him, even though he didn't want to admit that. He liked the thought that he was stronger than you because it meant that you needed him to protect you. He liked the thought that you needed him.

The day you both figured it out momentarily dances across his mind, making him tighten his jaw.

He remembered the sound of the gun and how you immediately pushed him out of the way to take the bullet for him, because you didn't know he was bulletproof and your gut reaction was to protect him.

Ben remembered how he held you when you took your last breath, watched the fear and pain in your eyes, mirrored in his own body at the thought of losing you, of trying to exist in a world where you weren't there. It was how he felt now.

Purposeless.

He remembered the broken feeling that rose in his chest when he heard your heart beat for the last time and how he begged internally for you to come back to him, because he didn't want to live if it meant losing you. He remembered gently brushing your hair back from your face as relief swelled in his chest when you came back and he clung to you like you had been gone a millennia. Of course after he had yelled at you for being so stupid, for putting yourself in that situation, tried to act like he didn't care as much as he did, but you'd only yelled back and refused to listen to him.

She was just so damn stubborn all the time.

"I don't care. I want to talk to her." Ben grabs the black leather coat that Butcher brought him and changes into a dark t-shirt and a pair of jeans. "Take me to her."

Butcher rolls his eyes. "Well, she did call the other day and say that she had some information for me." Butcher shrugs. "Let's go."

"But-" Hughie interjects.

"Oi Hughie. Calm down."

"She lost her mother. I don't think she wants any reminders of that."

"I promise I'll be gentle, cupcake." Ben rolls his eyes and pushes past Hughie to the door, the thought of seeing you again or just someone who shared your face enough to make him feel something for the first time in forty years.

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

"Oi, Y/n you in there." Butcher presses the call button on the outside wall of the brick apartment building.

Ben looks up and down the street, noting the people who are walking down the cracked sidewalks. It was weird to be back in New York, to be in a city that he lived in for so long and feel out of place. Hughie had tried to explain some things to him about the new century, but Ben was still confused, and honestly he didn’t care. The only thing he could focus on was you and the possibility of you living here.

Not you. He corrected. But maybe. He still didn't quite believe that you were dead, that you could die.

A minute passes and Ben is tired of waiting. He confidently walks up to the glass front door, and pulls with enough of his superstrength to break the lock and open it.

"What are you doing?" Hughie whispers following behind him, but Ben ignores the question strutting straight to the stairwell.

"What floor?"

"8th." Butcher says.

When they finally reach your door Ben pauses. He's not sure if he can look you in the eye, not after all of these years, if it really is you. And if it wasn't then what? What would I say to her daughter?

The thought makes the fear that he refuses to acknowledge grip his chest, the fear that you were dead followed by the feeling of purposelessness that seemed to follow him since he heard the news.

If it is her daughter, maybe she’ll tell me if y/n suffered, if she died thinking that I hated her.

The memory of the fight stirs in his chest as Butcher knocks on the door and waits. But nobody answers.

"Must not be home." Hughie shrugs. "We could call her-" He begins to say, but Butcher deftly picks the lock and the door swings open into the darkness.

As soon as Butcher opens the front door of the apartment and Ben steps through, all he smells is you. It's enough to confirm in his heart that it is you and not your daughter. He felt something in his chest stutter to a halt as he inhales the familiar scent of lavender and lemons. It was everywhere, all around him, flooding his senses.

And for the first time in forty years he felt comfort, at peace. For a moment all thoughts of revenge, rage, and justice fades from his mind and he is left with the memory of you.

Ben immediately is transported back to those quiet moments when he settled into bed next to you after climbing through your window. When you would fall asleep before him and curl against him subconsciously, your hair tickling his cheeks and sending the soft smell over him. The nights when he’d wrap his arm around you as soon as you fell asleep because he was afraid to do it when you were awake, afraid that you would reject him like so many others did. Those nights with you outweighed any other time in his life. He remembered that each time he crawled through your window you smiled up at him, were happy to see him, so different than the home he left behind, where his father wouldn't look at him.

He remembered the nights after you took Compound V, when even after a hard day when he was a dick, you still allowed him into your bed, allowed him to sleep next to you. Those quiet moments in the late hours of the morning when you cuddled into his side and muttered words in your sleep that he couldn’t understand all the while he brushed your hair back from your face stayed with him. As much as he refused to admit to anyone, refused to show any emotion, being there with you, felt more like home than anywhere else.

That's why he asked you to come with him in the first place. He couldn't leave you behind. Maybe that was selfish of him, but he would not pretend to be unselfish, not when it came to you.

He thinks about all the suitors that he scared away before him and you left Philadelphia, all his friends who expressed interest in you only to have him drive them away, and of course the one that wouldn't leave. The one that bought you jewelry and finally asked you to marry him, another reason why Ben convinced you to come with him.

The jealousy was familiar. Ben didn't want to leave you behind, the thought that some other man would possess you or love you made his chest hurt. You were his. No one felt the way about you that he did, never would. No one would know you, care about you or understand you like he did, and no one knew you as long as he did. And although Ben had trouble expressing it, he knew that he loved you, he hated himself for being unable to say it. He couldn’t decide if admitting that he loved you made him a pussy or it was his fear of telling you that made him one.

Ben looks around the apartment, noticing the artwork on the walls, the messy studio table, and smiles. He remembered the way you always had a sketchbook with you, he used to tease you about it, but you would only roll your eyes at him and continue to draw. He loved watching you sketch, watching how focused you were as you created something so effortlessly. He remembered watching you paint with the watercolors he got you, feeling a swell of pride that he was the one who started that love. Ben had been afraid to give them to you, afraid that it was too thoughtful, but then he remembered how widely you smiled, how happy you had been.

The apartment felt like you.

And by now again he knows that it is you and perhaps that's worse, because now he has to face you and he doesn't know how to fix this, any of it.

You weren’t like him or anyone else. You didn’t bend under easy promises and gifts like the other women he had been with over the years. Your ability to read him and understand him meant that you were special. And you were. You were special to him.

He moves forward towards the darkened hallway.

"Hey wait-" He hears Hughie say behind him, but Ben ignores him.

Ben finds your bedroom easily and the smell grows when he opens the door. He takes in the controlled chaos of the room before his eyes fall on the suitcase on the large bed.

Where was she going?

Ben pulls your supe suit out of the bag and smiles at the memory of the day you first tried it on. You never wore anything form fitting, hid your shape under shirts and pants, but the day he saw you in this for the first time made his breath catch in his chest. He knew that you thought you were fat, but Ben never believed that. He loved every curve of your body, loved to trace them with his eyes when you weren’t looking and when you finally let him take you to bed, his hands. Seeing you in the suit for the first time was almost enough to push him over the edge, but he kept it together.

He notices the plane ticket on the edge of the bed, beneath the bag, and he pulls out the printed piece of paper, reading the fine print.

She was going to Russia. She was going to come get me even after I-

The emotion that rises in Ben's chest is unfamiliar. He did not like giving in to emotions the same way others did because he believed that made him weak, a lesson his father had ingrained into his mind. But this time he doesn't attempt to push it down. The plane ticket crumples in his hand as his jaw clenches tight. A part of him was relieved, relieved to know that somewhere deep down you still cared about him, maybe that meant that you would be willing to see him.

But he still didn’t know how to fix this. He'd never been good with words or apologizing or, well, love in general. He’d never loved anyone before you. He frowns at the thought of all the meaningless flings he'd had in the past. There was only one relationship with a woman he'd ever been in, with you, and he'd fucked it all up.

He kneels and reaches under your bed, looking for the box he knows will be there. It's a dark rosewood, one from your bedroom when you were a kid, but now it holds a different value. Ben sits on the end of your bed and opens it.

He had caught you with it a few times, usually when you started drinking or on your birthday, always on your birthday. It's why he never let you stay at home, he made sure you came out with him, because your mind would drift when you were alone and Ben didn't like the dark places it took you.

Ben rarely liked leaving you alone. Whenever he was on movie shoots in another country he would call you just to hear your voice, and even when he went to bed with someone else and they fell asleep he would stay up thinking of you, wondering if you missed him as much as he missed you, and wondering if you could sleep without him because he couldn’t sleep without you. Another reason why he pushed you away, believing that it made him weak.

The photo on top is unfamiliar to him, it's newer, and shows you standing with a young brunette woman outside of a college dorm. He traces the lines of your face with his thumb. He hadn't seen a picture of you in forty years, but you were just as beautiful as he remembered. The one that follows is also unfamiliar, you holding a baby wrapped in a pink blanket, the baby’s hand wrapped around your index finger, and you looking down at it like it's your whole world.

The look in your eyes does something to him. He remembered when you looked at him like that, the morning when you woke up next to him and whispered those four little words to him that he always wanted to hear while holding his face tenderly between your palms, "I love you Ben."

When things got bad in Russia he would strain to remember the memory, remember the way you looked at him, the way the words sounded falling from your lips. The words that he always wanted to hear you say. The morning that he wished he could change and the disastrous night he wished never happened.

"We shouldn't be here." Hughie says to Butcher in the living room.

"She ain't home. We'll go when he wants to leave." Ben hears Butcher respond.

But Ben knew that he didn't want to leave, wouldn't want to leave. He had spent the past forty years away from you and he didn't want to spend anymore time apart from you, even if that made him a pussy, he didn't care.

"This isn't a good idea. Y/n didn't want him here-" Hughie tries again

"Oi, look at this. She's looking at flights." Butcher states, when he notices the laptop on the counter.

"What?" Hughie asks.

"If it ain't her, how would she know about Russia?" Butcher says back. Ben hears a rustling like Butcher is going through the trashcan “And take a look at this-“

Ben shuts out their conversation and pulls other photos out, finally pulling out strip of paper from a Photo Booth. It was the day he took you to a baseball game, before you were supes. You’d never been to one before and Ben had only been to the one his father took him to, when his dad got drunk and forgot Ben was with him. Ben frowns for a second but then looks back at the collection of photos on the strip. It was a good day. He had bought you a ridiculous hat, and you'd sat next to him looking radiant in the sunlight like you always did sketching him. Ben loved it when you drew him, it made him happy to know that when you looked through the pages of your sketchbook later that you were thinking of him. He often wondered if you thought of him as much as he thought of you. You'd both gotten drunk on cheap beer and when a woman yelled at you for being unladylike you flipped her the bird and said some choice words that made the tips of the woman’s ears turn pink.

Ben loved that about you, that you never seemed to care what others thought of you, especially your friendship with him. Everyone you knew had told you to keep a wide berth from him, but you didn’t listen.

Ben traces your young face in the photo with his fingertip.

Maybe she should have.

He turns back and pulls out a yellowed photo of you and your mother. Ben frowns at the expression on your face. You were never happy when she was around. He hated your mother, not just because she hated him, but he hated what she did to you. He hated that she made you feel ugly, when you were the most beautiful woman that he'd ever seen. Even as teenagers, Ben couldn’t help but notice how pretty your figure was and how you filled out the soft dresses you wore when you went with him on adventures through the city. He never thought you were too fat, if anything he liked your curves. The night you were finally together he worshipped them, wanted you to know that you were beautiful, to understand that he saw your beauty, because he knew that you still thought about what your mother said to you. He hated that she had such a hold on your life even though she had been dead for so long.

He hears a rattle along the bottom of the box and when he picks up the source of the noise he immediately wishes he hadn't. It's a single pearl, and Ben understands what it's from. It's from the necklace he bought you for your birthday, the one that you ripped off your neck when you found him with Countess. He had agonized over whether or not to get it for you, thought that maybe it was too thoughtful or rather was too romantic. But the look on your face when you opened the box made him feel like he’d swallowed the sun.

Ben's teeth clench together as a wave of guilt crashes over him remembering what he yelled at you, remembering what he did to you. He thought that it had been what he needed to do, that he needed to push you away because he didn't want to care about anyone else, at least not the way he cared about you.

He hadn’t thought it would hurt as much to say those things to you, but it had all but ripped his own heart out.

But even before you found them together all Ben felt was guilt. He wasn’t enjoying anything he was doing to Countess, all he wanted was to do those things with you. He thought it was necessary, that by doing those things with her he could somehow clear his head of you, but all it did was make him feel guilty and want you more.

He thinks about the days that followed before his mission in Nicaragua, when he agonized over calling you, over showing up to your apartment, but he couldn't. He couldn't face you. He hadn't been able to sleep those nights before the mission and wanted desperately for you to be there with him. Ben couldn't sleep when you weren’t with him. He hated that he'd finally gotten you and then lost you so quickly.

Ben notices a velvet box, and he sighs when he opens it. It's an engagement ring, the engagement ring that you showed him the night he asked you to come with him.

He briefly wonders if you thought that was his version of a proposal. That you believed, turning your back on your family and coming with him meant more.

I’m such a fucking idiot. I should’ve-

“It really is a shitty ring.” He mutters. And it was, it was all wrong for you. Ben knew what you liked and he couldn’t believe that this was what that asshole got you.

Why did she keep it? Because she wanted to remember what her life could have been like if I didn’t ask her to come?

Ben remembers when he asked you if he ruined your life, before everything exploded. He imagined that after that night you changed your answer, because how could you look at him, let alone want to be around him after what he did to you?

Ben examines the ring again allowing the memory of the night you showed it to him push its way into his mind. He remembered being scared, of course he’d never admit that, he wasn’t a pussy, but he acutely remembered the moment you showed it to him. The fear of losing you that struck him when he noticed it on your finger, as the weight of what it represented settled on his shoulders. He knew that the asshole who proposed would quickly turn you against him, and this time you’d believe it because you loved that dick or-

Ben reconsidered. She didn’t love him because she came with you. She loved you.

He remembers again what it was like to be with you in bed, when you whispered those words so tenderly to him and is struck with guilt all over again.

You had looked almost sheepish when you showed me the ring, like you were afraid to tell me-

Of course she was afraid to tell you. She wanted you to propose but you didn’t instead you fucking ruined her life and strung her along for 40 fucking years-

He never understood how you did that. Survived all those years with him while he fucked his way through everything that crossed his path. How you continued to stand by him when he was a dick to you and so many others. And yet you never let any other man into your life.

He remembers the night after you got between him and Noir, remembers asking you if you wanted to marry Howard, but you said no. The other things you said struck something within him. When you said you wanted someone to come home to, someone who would love you, a family. He remembers how you looked the night of your birthday in the restaurant, how you watched the couples around your table and smiled. He knew what you were thinking, and he had tried to show you that he could be that for you by taking your hand where it rested on the table even though it went against every instinct he had. He wanted so badly to give you those things, to make you happy. Ben didn’t want you to find that with anyone else. He would have loved to have a family with you, to be with you always the way you were always there for him, or were until he fucked it all up. He remembers asking you to marry him, apart of it had been a joke, just to gauge your reaction, but deep down he was curious. He hadn't expected it to hurt so much when you laughed him off.

Ben sighs. When you spoke about leaving Payback he was worried, worried that it meant you would leave him too and then who would he have? No one. It’s why he spent so many nights in your bed, with you curled up beside him. He didn’t want to be anywhere else.

He shuts the ring box with a snap and throws it back inside. The memory of the night you spent together is just on the edge begging to be let in. Ben indulged in that memory many times over the years, letting it strengthen him. Remembered every detail. It was the first time that he actually cared what someone else wanted in bed. He remembered how your cheeks blushed when you told him that you’d never had sex before and how you said that you wanted it to be him. He never imagined that you would want him the same way that he’d wanted you all those years.The exact reason why he drowned himself in so many other women, because he thought that’s what he needed to do. Because you deserved someone better than him, you always had.

The thought is immediately followed by what he yelled at you in the bathroom at the premiere, when he turned something that you believed to be special, one of the happiest nights of his life, into a cheap fuck.

He remembered the broken expression on your face. He'd never seen you look so small. Ben always admired how strong you were, but as soon as he said those things to you, he watched you crumble when he broke your heart.

Worse still was when he grabbed you. He fights the shudder, remembering how he grabbed onto your arms. As many times as you’d stood between him and the source of his anger, he’d never laid a hand on you but that night, he was just so damn frustrated. You were looking at him with those big eyes of yours that always saw through him, understood him, and he was frustrated because he wanted to tell you that he loved you that he always had loved you but he couldn’t. He couldn’t admit it because he was a man and damn it a man didn’t show emotions and he was Soldier Boy he didn’t need anyone-

His jaw clenches together so tight that he hears the click of his teeth.

But he did. He knew that all he needed was you.

I’m such a fucking asshole. Y/n doesn’t need me and I don’t deserve her-

Ben raises his head to look at your bedroom door as he hears the front door of your apartment swing open. And he freezes.

Because why would you want to see him? He had ruined your life.

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

A/N: Alright everybody we made it to the chapter right before the reunion!!! What will happen? Will she forgive him? Who knows?! Even me, honestly. 😂

Thank you so much for reading! If you'd like to be added to my taglist, please let me know. :)

Taglist: @roseblue373 @anundyingfidelity @cheynovak @cassiecasluciluce @muhahaha303 @deans-spinster-witch @kayleighmeister @demodemo909 @fruitfacess @bobbobbobinogs @bughill126, @simplyfixated @sleepjam, @tiredstrangerr @freefallthoughts,@onlyangel-444 @lov3vivian @mxltifxnd0m @mayafatimakhan @marvel-mistress @my-obsession-spn @lifeonawhim @soldirboy @liuope @brynanna

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

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thevanityofthefox · 3 days

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Homelander suit patterns 🧵

This is what I managed to see of the pixels haha

#the boys tv #the boys fanart #the boys series #the boys #the boys amazon #homelander

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homeb0ys · 2 days

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VoughtHQ is posting some The Boys S4 teases again…

And this is the only one I’m interested in:

Homelander sleeping naked is canon, y’all 😏🤌💋

#homelander #the boys season 4 #the boys season 4 spoilers #the boys #the boys tv #the boys amazon #the boys series

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anundyingfidelity · 20 hours

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i love him your honor

#soldier boy #soldier boy/ben #the boys #the boys soldier boy #the boys amazon prime #the boys tv #the boys series #jensen ackles #jensen ackles soldier boy #bye i should be writing

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olliveolly · 2 days

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Hello guys 👋🏼

hey, it so happened that in the absence of ideas, I actually did had an idea linked to the backdrop of a fresh fallout series that I just finished watching))

I don’t know if it will be interesting, but I was interested in imagining the boys’ characters in the Fallout universe, but I couldn’t decide on their roles, who would be who, so I drew bought versions😅

Hope you find it interesting ♥️

#homelander #fanart #the boys series #alternate universe #sketch #the boys #billy butcher #butchlander #fallout #fallout au #fallout inspired #ghouls fallout

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soldirboy · 24 hours

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PROTECT ME FROM WHAT I WANT

Summary: You're working with Butcher and his team since your sister has died in a plane crash caused by Homelander and months later, you met Soldier Boy. Drown between hatred and your desire to have your vengence, you have to face your feelings for Soldier Boy eventually.

Pairing: Soldier Boy / Female!Reader

Warnings: Angst, Hurt, Language, Soldier Boy being an asshole, grief, family issues, mention of death, cursing, mention of drugs, unrequited love

Word Count: 2113

A/N: English is not my first language. *We die like men*

Chapter 1: Don’t try to fight the storm, you’ll tumble overboard

Its been a year since the greatest supe ever known of America has woken from his 40 years of sleep and it did not even took a big amount of time your thoughts to revolve around him only. Oppressed with grief, your life was consuming you inside since your sister has died in a plane crash caused by Homelander. It changed many things. It made Butcher and his team to found you, turned you into something you couldn't name it anymore. Each passing day was the same. You were and all alone with despair when darkness took over the daylight; you knew you did not even mourn properly for your sister. What's worse was that you had a fought just before the flight. Funny, that was the only time you two had a fight in twenty three years and it was over for nothing. Time heals, they say. They are all wrong. It won't heal a shit till it kills and throws you away with one last heavy strike.

The day you rescued Soldier Boy was definitely a hard day to forget. He looked like an unleashed savage confused animal freed from a cage. Actually, he was literally something like that. Ben was so hard to control. Besides, the worst thing about himself was not his character; it was his erratic nuclear muscled chest ready to blow up anytime. It was a hidden menace under his thick skin.

At first, you weren't so sure if Homelander or Ben was worse. Probably both were pure supe evils in their own unique way. After all, intentionally or unintentionally, they both hurt many people.

All things aside, at least you were certain about one thing you truly craved for. The only thing. Homelander must die.

Walking on tiptoe, your heart was beating fast and it was not the first time. Your palm was sweaty around the pistol and your knuckles probably turned white. No need to be humble, you were a good shooter, a very good one, but you weren't sure if you could aim right to the eyes of the supe you were looking for when the right time comes. Ben gave you the big eye, almost chuckled. You knew his senses as a supe were highly developed and that made things embarrassing for you. In addition, the house being so silent and dark was another problem.

You did not know when that all these things started; when he made you feel such things. Maybe it was just a silly and temporary crush to disappear sooner or later. However, as time passed, the way you react around him just grew irrevocably stronger. It was getting out of hand or already did. You hated that feeling, but loved it, also despised it and obsessed with it. He was hard to ignore in every way, especially when he was that heart wrenchingly handsome.

“Hey,” he said mockinly. “Why so excited suddenly?”

You were both grateful and angry to Butcher for leaving you alone with Ben in such a place like this. You were chosen to work with Ben most of time since he broke Hughie's arm, got a fight with Annie, Frenchie and threw Butcher to the tree,-lucky of him he was on Compound V- so, no one wanted to spend a single second with him. Especially Hughie was scared as fuck of him.

The only one who did not have a fight with Ben was Kimiko as she never said a word at all that could make him mad in any way. Though you knew Kimiko was even more savage talking to Ben with sign language, you never dared or needed to translate her words directly.

Checking around nervously you took a deep breath. “I am not excited.”

“Don't worry, it's not a big deal,” he continued ignoring what you've just said. “I am used to such things.”

“What things?”

“You know,” he sighed. “Knowing that the strongest supe in the world with you right now in this house and all alone got you wet. I’m sure your clit is flickring with such exciment you might cum any moment..”

Judging by the look on his face as he went on acting his fingers obcenely and not stopping talking in an unappropiate way, he was amused. You just wanted to shut his voice completely down. He was not familiar with embarrassment at all. Taking a deep breath, you closed your eyes waiting for him to finish his pornographic ted talk.

Taking back some steps from him “Have you totally lost your mind? Every single thing you say is so gross and nasty,” you finally said. “You're so delusional you should have been an author.”

It wasn't the first time he teased you. His choice of words was getting more obscene each time even though you never took them seriously. The things he said caused pathetic butterflies to punch your stomach hard. But you knew Ben was being like this to everyone. It was in his nature after all.

“Say delusional one more time and see what happens.” His sharpened eyes were fixed on you.

Fuck Butcher.

“Ben,” you whispered nervously. You got closer to him and touched his chest hesitantly.It would be a terrible idea to get on Ben's sensitive nerves. It would be easier if Butcher was there. “Are you on coke?”

“Course I am.”

Pushing your hands away from his chest with a rough move, Ben looked around cautiously searching for any sign of the supe.

You followed his footsteps. “Do you hear anything?”

“No.”

Stopping for a moment, you sighed. You did not want to push his buttons any further. “Is it true that this Supe can play with memories? Does she change them? Like mind control?”

“Worse.”

You felt his posture suddenly got serious.

“How?”

“The slut has a strange talent that can make you see stupid things, things you desire the most. They’re all fake and all made up stuff. Total bullshit.”

“What happens if you see them though?”

“It’s impossible to wake up if you are a little pussy. You'd trap like a rat driven by pathetic fake scenarios just because your little brain is a weak shithole and you’re just too scared to face the reality. That’s it."

The way he sounded made you even more curious.

“You sound like you experienced it,” you said raising your eyebrows.

Judging by the way sounded, you were sure he experienced every single thing he mentioned. But what could be Soldier Boy's nightmare or dream? You were dying to know what he desired the most. What on earth would be his dream? He always looked so confident and sure of himself, it was like there would be nothing in the world he would ever desire. Of course It would be Crimson Cuntess. Remembering the way he looked at her with disappointment made your stomach crumble in pain and despair.

“Absolutely nothing,” he insisted. “Only pussies desire things they can't get, right? I am smart and I can get whatever I want, sweetheart.”

“I thought it would be Crimson Countess,” you murmered hoping he would not get mad. You needed him to deny it so bad.

Looking at him with pleading eyes and waiting patiently, he looked genuinely lost in thoughts for a moment.

“Jealous?”

Looking away, you said “Why on earth would I be jealous?” You would make him believe you easily if you did not sound that needy and wasn't flushed. You could never be completely honest with him. How could you?

Putting his left hand on your chin sofly, he murmured. “You’re so obvious.. Do you really think I’m not aware the way you look at me?”

With a heavy heart, you looked up at him with beseeching eyes.

“I dont understand what you mean at all.”

“You do,” he insisted indifferently. “I know, you wish you were her, I know you’re so envious of her that you would even let me fuck you as I like it if I made a move, right?” he paused and snickered. Your heartbeat skipped at his harsh words.

You made a move to get away from him, but his grip on your chin tightened hard enough to hurt, so you stopped moving surrending his cruelty for a moment to catch your breath and let him do whatever he had on his mind.

Despite his roughness, you put your hand on his daring one softly, savoring his touch unintentionally as you try to push him away with helpless and meaningless attempts, hoping to show your affection for him. He didn’t make a move. Getting even closer, his broad chest touched yours ungently. Ben curled his lips into a mischievous smile and lowered his hand to where your heart is. When you felt his forearm touched your nipple, you gasped for breath and struggled determinedly not to melt into his warm touch.

Knowing his hand could easily rip your heart from your chest in a second should have been enough to take him out from your heart and mind right there, but it was always easier to blame destiny and the others for what happened and is about to happen. Moreover, him being that dominant, confident and powerful made your stomach curl in excitement.

“You’re wrong, Ben,” you denied.

You were angry at yourself for being like this, feeling that way. Between all things..your sister and everything happened in the last few months, you let your thoughts to be driven into something you should stay away from in the very first place. Coming to your senses and accepting the truth about yourself hurt more than Ben’s words. You could never be at his level, but you let your fantasies to took over your logic.

As you struggled not melting into his touch, you tried harder to get away from him and hoping it convince him, you mumbled “You’re hurting me.”

His grasp was indeed firm, but it did not hurt at all. You just wanted to save yourself from intensity of his seductive presence since you did not know if you could resist this irresistible pull one more minute.

He pulled away his hands on you, but remained still.

“How you fucking normals can endure being that weak, huh? You know I could kill you without even using half my strength, right? It must be taking a great energy and luck to survive.” he said mockingly.

You wanted to say he was nothing without Compound V in his veins, that he wasn’t naturally the strongest, but a made up product. However, it wouldn’t be smart at all to say such thing. Supes were not known with reasonable conversations and handling criticism. Maybe, Supes were physically the strongest breed whose emotional and narcissistic fragility suppressed under their thick skin. And Ben’s short temper wasn’t something you’d want to face with.

You both jumped when a noise coming from the second floor filled the house. Ben’s eyes were down. He was probably nervous considering potentially to being put in long sleep by the Supe. Unlike Ben, you took a step right to the stairs, tightning your grasp on the pistol and holding your breath.

“Be fucking slow,” he warned you, but it was more like he meant to threaten you.

You turned to him and whispered “Hey, who’s being a pussy right now?”

“Don’t fucking provoke me.”

“Hey,” you gave him a playful wink. “I’ll always protect you.”

Just before he say something, you’ve seen the Supe’s dark figure behind Ben. Your eyes fixed on each other. His body tensed with anger as his patience grew thin. He was about to lose his temper knowing he should kill her without meeting the eye of the fucking bitch. He simply just did not know how to do. Before he turned around, you shot at the darkness randomly, trying to stir panic in the supe. Darkness of the room was in your favor until you met the heinous eyes of the supe just before Ben caught and slammed her on the floor with a furious growling.

A/N: I'm not built for this.

#soldier boy #soldier boy x reader #the boys series #jensen ackles #the boys #the boys tv #jensen ackles soldier boy #the boys season 3 #soldier boy the boys #the boys amazon #soldier boy x y/n #soldier boy fanfiction #soldier boy x you #soldier boy x female reader #jensen ackles the boys #the boys soldier boy

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tom-whore-dleston · 3 months

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Side Effects of Soldier Boy

Pairing: Soldier Boy/Ben x f. reader

Word Count: 391

This fic contains: smut, literally PWP, drug use, unprotected sex, dirty talk, swearing, degradation, Soldier Boy doesn't pull out

Summary: Soldier Boy tries to keep you quiet during sex.

Notes: Wake up babes, Jordan discovered a new hottie to write about lmaoo Anyways, I know Soldier Boy is a walking red flag but unfortunately, I see the world through rose colored glasses hadshghsdl This is another submission for @flashfictionfridayofficial's prompt no. 239: Seal it Tight. Lowkey, I've been on a role with these quick fics, I don't want it to stop.

Sex with Soldier Boy was addicting. You would say it was more addicting than the cocaine that coursed your system. The blow was essentially the gateway drug to Ben.

The side effects: uncontrolled moans and orgasms that made your soul leave your body.

The two of you found yourselves in a rundown motel room, where Ben plowed you into the mattress at superhuman speed. His strong hand clasped over your mouth, in hopes to seal your cries of pleasure from the outside world. Considering how cocky of a bastard he is, it was bold of him to assume that simply covering your mouth would keep you quiet.

“Mmm, baby, those moans are so pretty, but so loud.” The supe grunted through clenched teeth. Your eyes rolled to the back of your head as Ben’s pulsing cock stretched your walls. You gushed around him, causing each thrust to echo through the dainty room.

“God damn, even this pussy is loud,” Soldier Boy chuckled, making you throb. “Think you want the neighbors to hear me fuck the shit out of you, huh?”

His dirty talk was no help to hushing your moans. Yet, it did push you closer to that sweet release you craved. With Ben being the instigator he is, he knew damn well what he was doing.

The pit in your stomach was growing and it was only a matter of time before it exploded. You pumped your hips up to meet his and he took this as a signal to deepen his strokes until his balls slapped your ass. You were one step away from the edge when Ben removed his hand from your mouth to throw both of your legs over his shoulders.

“Fuck it, let the neighbors hear you. Let ‘em know how much of a slut you are for me.”

That euphoric bliss finally washed over you like a crisp ocean wave. You could have drowned under the wave but a kiss from Ben brought you back to shore. The handsome supe slammed into you one last time before filling you with his seed. He crashed onto the empty side of the bed, fingers lazily tangling between yours. The two of you laid there, staring at the cracked ceiling while catching your breaths. Just as you were coming down your high, you already itched for another hit.

Navigation | Fanfic Masterlist | Soldier Boy Masterlist

header credit: @saradika | divider credit: @firefly-in-darkness

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taylorswiftt1 · 6 months

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Derek luh

#derek luh #derek luke #jordan li #gen v #the boys series #the boys amazon #the boys tv #the boys #amazon #wallpaper #aesthetic wallpaper #icons #lockscreen #pretty boy #men muscle

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bloodynereid · 6 months

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Hi, Jordan Li fan here again! Could you maybe write an angst/comfort fic where (preferably gender neutral) reader really likes Jordan, but because Jordan and Marie have been getting closer they’re scared to confess? So they try to distance themselves from Jordan and eventually the secret comes out? Bonus points if there’s some sort of panic attack + comfort in there :). Again, completely understand if not, no pressure. Have the best day!!

Whiskey in the Shadows

pairing: jordan li x gender neutral reader

tw: cursing, alcohol consumption, mentions of suicide, death, canon typical violence ish, panic attack, kissing

description: jealousy is a rather stupid emotion that unfortunately you have to contend with.

a/n: hope you enjoy this one <33 i literally wrote it out in like less than an hour and i'm actually happy with the result so yayyy. requests are open as always and yeah don't have much else to say.

Life at God U was something you had to adjust to over the years. It was completely different from the time you spent in high school but it definitely felt way better to be surrounded by supes, not just humans who constantly pushed you away because you were ‘different’. A plus was definitely being in the top 10, which meant you had extra privileges the other students didn’t have. One was your friend group.

You first met Luke in the first week of school. You were both taking the same mandatory intro to marketing seminar and were paired up together to make a sales pitch for a product that could combine both of your powers. God, that day was almost as vivid as if you were living it right now.

“Hi.” You jumped slightly and looked up from your notes to see a tall blonde guy standing in front of your spot.

“Uh hi.”

“You want to be my partner?” You scanned the room and saw that everyone had already paired up.

“Sure, I’m Y/N.”

“Nice to meet you, I’m Luke.” He was about to set down his bag when he realized the mess that surrounded you was going to make that difficult.

“Right, shit. Let me get this out of the way.” You quickly took all the multicolored folders from the spot next to you and shoved them into your bag, Luke pulled out the chair and sat down next to you before pulling out a notebook.

“Why the fuck do you have so many folders?” Luke said as he watched you struggle to organize them in alphabetical order.

“This class is bullshit so I mostly spend time catching up on outside projects.” You say as you are finally able to fix all your folders and turn towards Luke who has an incredulous look on his face.

“Jesus, I guess I picked the right partner then.”

“Oh don’t count on me doing all the work.”

“I wouldn’t dare.” He said with a smirk before he started to rattle off ideas of what your pitch could be.

From that moment on you two had become instant friends, eventually your little group expanded to include Luke’s girlfriend, Cate, who was probably the nicest person you had ever met. Then Andre, a legacy who didn’t actually act like it. Jordan was the last to join and all of it happened during one of your many sparring sessions with Luke.

“Ok come on you have got to be cheating!” Luke complained as you once again pinned him down on the soft mat. Your little spar was gathering some attention because the boxing ring was now crowded with supes holding up phones.

“Nope. I’m just better than you. Oh shit.” Luke took advantage of your distraction to grab your shoulder and flip you around so you landed hard against the mat.

“I win.”

“Fuck you.” You bit out before you used your powers to wrap and twist shadows around Luke’s wrists so he tumbled down next to you.

“Ok now that’s cheating.”

“We never said no powers.”

“It’s an unspoken rule!” Luke exclaimed but he had a big smile on his face as you offered a hand to him after jumping up from your own spot.

“Truce?”

“Truce.” Luke said as he smirked and grabbed your arm, allowing you to pull him up. The crowd around the ring started dispersing as you climbed out through the ropes.

“That was pretty fucking badass.” Came a voice from one of the few remaining spectators, you expected their voice to be focused on Luke but their intense stare was pinned on you.

“Why thank you. Luke’s an easy one to beat.”

“Hey!” Luke exclaimed in indignation as he jumped down next to you and threw you one of the spare water bottles he had. You grabbed it with one of your shadows and screwed open the cap.

“I’m Jordan.”

“Nice to meet you Jordan, I’m Y/N and this is Luke as you already know.”

“Hey.” Luke said as he did some kind of military salute.

“So what are your powers?” You asked when suddenly Jordan shifted in front of you. “Holy shit.”

“Yeah…”

“That’s fucking awesome.” Luke said as he finished taking a long drag of the water bottle.

“If you’re ever up for a spar come find me.” You said as you checked the time on your phone and realized you were going to be late for class. “We have to go but it was great to meet you Jordan.”

“You too.” They said with a smile as you and Luke grabbed your bags from the floor. You waved as you went your separate ways.

“Someone has a crushhhh.” Luke said with a sing-song voice when he realized you were still staring at Jordan’s retreating back.

“Fuck off.” You said as you slapped his shoulder, making a booming laugh explode out of Luke.

Somehow you had managed to keep your crush on Jordan secret when you all reached junior year. Luke was the only one who knew and he constantly teased you about the situation, any time you stumbled over your words or got flustered in front of them. It just seemed harder and harder over the years to actually confess to Jordan. They had gotten so damn confident and like a thousand times more attractive - which is something you didn’t think was possible.

Everything sort of started to fall apart in your life the first days of junior year. It was like the universe decided to throw a wrench in your stableish life. Incident 1: Andre nearly kills a woman in the club you like to frequent. Incident 2: Luke’s nightmares get worse and he keeps having to bunk in your room because for some fucking reason he’s getting suspicious of Cate. Incident 3: Jordan is making heart eyes to someone who is not you. (not that you don’t like Marie but that was the problem, she was too damn perfect) Incident 4: Luke kills himself…

It was like your world was torn apart in the space of half an hour. Your best friend, who you considered a platonic soulmate and brother, killed Brink and then himself right in front of you. The last thing you said to him was that you loved him. Right after he hugged you as tight as humanly possible before flying off to his doom. He was fucking Icarus in that moment.

Incident 5: Luke has a brother, who’s somehow stuck in a fucking underground experimental facility in the school. Incident 6: Brink’s memorial gala…

You carefully adjusted the all-black suit embroidered with shiny black vines that you had gotten in preparation for Luke’s birthday… something that wasn’t even going to happen this year or any year for that matter. Fuck, not the time to cry. You mentally chidded yourself before assessing your look one last time in the mirror before making your way out of your dorm.

You really fucking hoped you wouldn’t run into Jordan tonight. It was getting harder to be around them… every time you saw them, they either started ranting about why Marie was around so much (you almost hoped they actually hated her for a second there but there was a certain spark in Jordan’s eyes whenever they spoke about Marie) or well yeah more complaining about Marie.

You had taken to spending more time alone, you still had a bad feeling about Cate and Andre spent most of his time with Cate so that left alone time as your only option. It had started taking a toll on you though. Mourning wasn’t exactly your strong suit.

You stepped into the decorated hall and cringed at all the posters with Brink. You knew he was a good man but… Luke wasn’t fucking crazy. You had been trying to help him for months, he had a reason to do it and you were going to try to find his brother… as soon as this damn gala was over.

You picked one of the champagnes off of a random waiter’s tray and quirked your lips up. Time to put on a real fucking show.

The next hour was spent mingling and chatting up potential sponsors. They all seemed hesitant to even speak to you because they knew how close you and Luke were but you reassured them that it was nothing to worry about. The Vought PR lines left a sour taste in your mouth that by the end of the hour you were itching for something stronger than champagne.

Once you were sure that the bartender was looking the other way you extended one of your shadows and snatched up one of the good whiskey bottles off the shelf and into your hand. You fucking loved your powers so much sometimes. Happy with your little prize a genuine smile made its way onto your face. Only to fall when you saw Jordan directly talking to Marie. They were smiling softly at each other, making a knot form in your stomach.

You hadn’t cried since Luke. All that had managed to come out of your eyes was a single measly fucking tear right before blood rained down from the heavens. But it seemed like Jordan’s moment with Marie was your fucking breaking point.

A sob threatened to force its way out of your throat as you hurried towards one of the alcoves that you knew this damn place had. What you didn’t notice was the way a pair of brown eyes followed your rushed movements. The second you were cocooned in your shadows was the moment that the tears slowed and a hiccup left your throat.

Safe. Safe. Safe.

“Y/N? Look I know you’re in there. I know your shadows when I see them.” The distinct voice of Jordan Li permeated your little hideout, disturbing the peace that you had somehow been able to culminate.

“Fuck off.” You said in a strained tone, tears were threatening to force their way out of your eyes once more so you opened the bottle and took a long swig of burning whisky.

“Y/N… is this about Luke? Shit- I haven’t even talked to you- I’m so sorry.” Those last few words made the stupid little resolve you had left deplete so you waved your hand and the shadows parted like curtains exposing Jordan’s ethereal face which looked incredibly apologetic. She climbed into your alcove as you closed the shadows back up.

“It’s fine, Jord. You had your own shit to deal with.”

“No, it’s not fine. You- you’ve been listening to me rant about Marie and I didn’t even ask if you were okay. I’m a shitty friend.” A resounding pang echoed through your heart at the word friend. Fuck. Another swig of the fancy whiskey.

“It’s not about that Jord, I’m really fine.”

“You’re drinking whiskey… you only do that when you’re stressed and/or depressed.” It almost hurts to realize how much Jordan actually knows you.

“It’s not that Jordan.”

“Then what is it?!” Jordan almost yells, probably exasperated by your perceived stubbornness.

“I fucking like you okay? I’ve been in love with you for fucking I don’t know how long. So can you please just fuck off and leave me alone.” You yelled out, only realizing after you finished speaking what you had just said. Oh. Oh no. A familiar panic started to seize your chest. Shit, they were going to reject you. Shit. Shit. Shit. You could almost feel yourself drifting off to join your shadows when warm hands gently got a hold of you.

“Y/N, Y/N. Listen to me, you have to breathe. You have to breathe with me. Come on. No passing out on me tonight. You didn’t even hear what I was going to say. Hey.” Your breathing started to slow down as you listened to Jordan’s calming voice. They were slowly bringing you back to earth as their hands rubbed against the material of the suit, creating a calming pressure.

“Sorry about that.” When Jordan realized I was calming down I saw a quirk of a smile appear on their face, her eyes twinkled in the dark with an intensity I had gotten familiar with over the years.

“You don’t have to be sorry at all. You get those often?”

“More now than before. I’m really fucking sorry, let’s just forget I sa-”

“No, nope. No take backsies. How the fuck did you think I didn’t like you, no wait sorry, love you back?”

“I-umm” You stuttered out as you looked at Jordan in awe. They loved you back. Holy fucking shit.

“Who came up to who first? I’ve wanted to ask you out on a date for years.”

“And why didn’t you?” You said as Jordan smirked at your renewed confidence.

“Because you are wayyy out of my league. I mean you are like the most incredible being to grace the Earth.”

“Ok now you’re exaggerating things, Jord.”

“No I’m not. I can’t believe you didn’t realize I wasn’t totally gone for you before.” You let the giddy feeling of love spread through your extremities when a realization made you stop short.

“What about Marie?”

“Marie? What are you talking about?”

“You’re like-” You made wavy motions with your hands that had Jordan’s laugh resonating against the shadows, butterflies fluttering in your stomach as you watched them.

“Oh fuck, you are too funny, love. No, me and Marie are not-” Jordan repeated the wavy motions you had just done which made you smack her playfully. The movement had you shuffling closer to Jordan so now your faces seemed like they were only millimeters apart.

“Fuck.” You uttered under your breath as your nose skimmed against Jordan’s.

“Fuck is right. Can I- I umm really want to kiss you right now.”

“What are you waiting for?” You answered just as Jordan surged forward and your lips met in an explosion of sensations. You felt your shadows jump and play around you excitedly as you pulled Jordan impossibly closer by threading your fingers in their oh so soft hair. That decision rewarded you with a little whine from Jordan that had warmth spreading over your body once again.

Reluctantly pulling away you rested your forehead against Jordan’s as they smiled giddily up at you. Her eyes sparkled in the darkness and you smoothed the pads of your fingers against their cheek.

“Hi.”

“I really fucking love you.” You said as you looked into those brown eyes that looked just like the perfect cup of coffee. Inviting, warm and absolutely enthralling.

“I love you more.”

“Always a competition with you Jordan.” You said with a chuckle, making Jordan laugh in response.

“Well you should have known what you were signing on for when you fell in love with me.”

“I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

so... reader's powers in this one are known as darkness manipulation which are sort of like the darkling's powers from shadow & bone (they're suit for the gala is literally directly inspired by the darkling's kefta lol) also here's the link to the superpower wiki page if anyone's interested.

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