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bittersweetarts · 5 months

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How to Disappear - Chapter 4

Soldier Boy (The Boys) x OC

Word count: 3132 words

Summary: Eden Reid can't help her curiosity, and Soldier Boy can't help but take advantage of that curiosity.

WARNINGS: Swearing, minor violence

Chapter 1 - Chapter 2 - Chapter 3 - AO3 Page

Chapter 4: Talk

“Good morning princess. Tea or coffee?”

Eden’s body was sore, and her neck and arms ached. The room was cold, like a freezing cold you could feel in your bones, and as Eden’s vision returned and sharpened, she found herself in an unwell-lit, vacant windowless room, and stood in front of her were two figures; an average-looking curly-haired Joe, and the large, dark-haired, bearded man who had attacked her in her home.

Immediately Eden tried to stand, adrenaline now coursing through her veins, but she found herself restrained, with one of her hands handcuffed to a pipe behind her. This would not be a problem, but as she kept roughly pulling, trying to break out of the cuffs or to break the pipe, her wrist started to hurt, and after thrashing about for too long, Eden noticed that her strength was missing. An annoying foreign accent, feigning friendliness, brought Eden’s attention back to the men in front of her.

“I’m guessing neither tea nor coffee.” Eden ignored him, continuing her futile efforts to break free.

“Careful not to hurt yourself, love. You’ve got more than yourself to think about now.”

“What the fuck have you done to me?”

Eden’s tone was filled with venom, angry that her powers were gone. As she spoke, she stared up to the pair, and she noticed how the lankier man was nervous in comparison to the foreign one, and she intended to take advantage of this.

“Nothing permanent, don’t worry. Just a little concoction to keep you at bay, but we aren’t going to hurt you, as long as you don’t give us a reason to.”

“Well, you’re doing a fucking fantastic job, assholes.”

As Eden sarcastically responded she raised her handcuffed hand, which were already tender. Eden now noticed that she wasn’t wearing the office clothes she remembered putting on last, but a black sweatsuit set that she had gotten cheap from Target the previous winter.

Kidnapped, stripped and drugged – what else have they done to me? Eden thought panicked.

Realizing the dire situation she was in, Eden quickly switched up her attitude, and instead of thrashing about, she pulled up her knees and placed her head on them, looking up at the two men, face flushed, letting her eyes water from the very real fear she was feeling now.

“I’m sorry, I don’t mean it. Please, just let me go. I don’t know what you want, but you don’t seem like bad men. I don’t have much, but I’ll withdraw everything from my account, you can have it all, I won’t say a single word to anyone. Please, just let me go.”

Eden’s voice cracked as she finished, choking down a sob.

Eden was scared, and if there was one lesson she learned from the Supe conflict resolution course that she took for one semester in college, it’s that she needed to gain the sympathy of her kidnappers, and she needed to capitalize off of her fear to do so. Unfortunately for her, in contrast with the lankier guy, the dark-haired man in charge was not fooled by her theatrics, and clapped as he spoke.

“I can see why he fancied you, love. You are a real damsel, a lady like Vivien Leigh, and the face for it too. Sadly, we’re not in Hollywood.”

“We aren’t going to hurt you Eden, we’re really not the bad guys – ”

Eden was waiting for the smaller man to speak, and immediately turned to him, with her brown hair falling on her face.

“So please then, just let me go.” Eden pleaded directly to her target, who she stared at with rounded eyes.

“Hughie, the pamphlets.”

The dark-haired man ignored Eden’s pleas, and turned spoke to the other man with a definitive tone. Apprehensively ‘Hughie’, took a bag that was on the table next to them – Eden’s bag. The young girl’s stomach turned as she saw him rummage and pull out some familiar papers.

“Stop, who do you think you are? What right do you have to do any of this?” Eden pleaded again.

“I’m Butcher, this here is Hughie. Fabulous, we’re all introduced. Now, how about we tell you what we know about you, and you can fill in the blanks. Your birth name is Eden Michelle Reid, twenty-five years old, blood type B, Capricorn, so you’ll be turning twenty-six soon, happy early birthday.”

The man paused for a moment, as though waiting for a response, but Eden said nothing, and stared with hatred at him.

“Clever girl, got into Godolkin University despite having not very extraordinary super abilities. You were never going to be in The Seven, that’s for sure. The charts say super strength, but it’s not the strongest, at least based on your assessment reports. That’s maybe why you dropped out, and ended up living in some random city in Jersey, working as a receptionist and not making very much. But it’s an honest life, and I can respect you for that.”

Eden looked up at the man, her face frowning. The man turned back to the table, picking up a file with papers, and taking them out to show Eden as he continued speaking. The first paper showed CCTV pictures of a dressed-down Soldier Boy, driving her Mazda, its car plate number clear as day.

“… what we cannot figure out is how Soldier Boy came into the picture. You’re a woman who lives a relatively remote, no social media presence for the past five years. Your manager thinks you’re shy, your co-worker considers you a bitch, the doctors at your clinic praise you, meanwhile it feels like practically no one else knows you. So, love, how did such a lone wolf meet Soldier Boy?”

Feeling the violation of her privacy, with a clenched jaw, Eden answered.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Don’t play dumb, love. It’s not a good look on you.”

The man then took the papers from Hughie, and dropped them onto the ground near Eden, one-by-one, pictures of Eden from the past weeks, at her workplace, arms wrapped around Felix, their last kiss, pregnancy advice pamphlets, and her results. Eden felt sick, and the only reason she wasn’t throwing up was because she had physically nothing in her stomach.

“Congratulations by the way, a miraculous conception given the IUD. This ain’t the baby shower you imagined, but desperate times call for desperate measures.”

“And we’re trying to save people.” Hughie blurted out, as though he were searching what to say, and evidently said the wrong thing, based on the look the other man gave him.

“That’s what you’re doing? Saving people by stalking, attacking, kidnapping and drugging a pregnant woman?” Eden said spitefully, chin up in defiance.

“Well, love, we won’t have to do any of that if you listen. We only need one thing from you, and then you can be on your merry way. We don’t need to harm you – in fact,” Butcher declared. “… if you promise not to hurt us, we’ll uncuff you, after you do one little thing for us.”

“You’ll remove this?” Eden suspiciously asked, eyes narrowed.

“Consider it a gesture of good faith. We can’t let you go right now, hope you understand, but if all goes well, you’ll be out of here in no time.” Butcher answered in a lighter tone, while Hughie looked at Eden with guilty, pleading eyes.

Eden weighed her options, but her current physical predicament was uncomfortable, and if she was going to be here for some time, might as well reduce the miserable-ity she has to endure. Defeatedly, she responded.

“What do you want?”

With a smile, Butcher answered, whipping out a phone from the pocket of his jeans. Eden’s phone.

“Nothing crazy. Just a little phone call to one of America’s favorite historic heroes.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Eden flawlessly lied between her teeth, but it fooled no one.

“Eden darling, here we were being honest with one another.”

“We were there when he called you …”

Hughie interrupted, going on his knees and sorting through the papers in front of Eden. If she had wanted to, Eden could have grabbed him by the hair, made him bleed, but she didn’t. Instead, she watched as he sorted through the documents and photographs, before pulling out photographs of her on the phone, on the night that Soldier Boy called her. Eden had felt eyes on her that night, and other others, but she dismissed it for paranoia. She felt like slapping herself for doing so.

“… and intercepted the call, we heard it all. Please don’t make me play the recording.” Hughie finished, with apologetic eyes

Eden felt overwhelmed and had to lean against the wall to stabilize herself. Even though it was the Butcher-man that was not as nice to her, something about Hughie made her feel vulnerable, maybe because unlike the bearded-man, Eden could tell that Hughie was good.

“But it’s not his.” Eden said meekly, as though she were trying to convince not the two other men, but herself.

“Ah, yes, Felix, the new boyfriend. See love, I don’t care if you are carrying his baby, or your little boyfriend’s, or if it’s the spawn of Satan.”

Eden ignored the bearded man, and continued, looking only at Hughie.

“Felix is going to notice I’m gone, we see each other every day, and he’s got family in the force. The clinic will notice I’m missing, I always tell them when I take a day off. Please Hughie, just let me go now and I won’t breathe a word about this to anyone.” The pleading didn’t work though, as Hughie looked to the ground, avoiding Eden’s stare.

“Do you really think we wouldn’t tie loose ends? Your boyfriend already thinks that you’re driving back home – that’s a two day drive, mind you – and we’ve texted him that you need space. You’ve also taken a sabbatical leave from work, resignation email sent last night, and your car – which is shitty by the way – is also parked elsewhere now, for safe-keeping of course. Are we missing anything?”

As Butcher finished, he seemed pleased with himself and the work that evidently his team (a larger one than just the two of them, Eden deduced) made. Eden, on the other hand, felt defeated, and meanly spoke up to him, chin tilted upwards in temerity.

“You’re just like him, you know? You and Soldier Boy.”

“We’re nothing alike, love.”

“You’re selfish and use people to get what you want. I’m surprised you guys aren’t friends.”

A knowing look flashes before Butcher’s eyes whilst Hughie’s eyes widen, and that was enough to confirm Eden’s suspicions that they all, at the very least, knew each other from before.

“Frankly, your opinions don’t matter to me, princess.” The large man paused for a moment, before coming closer to Eden, putting her phone between them.

“I’m calling now, it’ll be on speaker phone, so use your voice.” As the dark-haired man unlocked Eden’s phone and began swiping on it, Butcher quickly spoke again.

“And maybe don’t mention your boyfriend – Benny Boy’s of the jealous kind, and Felix isn’t a Supe. Understand what I’m getting at.”

Eden didn’t get an opportunity to respond, because as Butcher finished, the phone, on speaker, began to ring, and rang only once before it was answered, and a deep voice echoed through.

“Morning doll, what do I owe the pleasure.”

From the other side, Eden could hear TV noise in the background. It was silent for a heartbeat, and the tension in the room was palpable. Butcher cleared his throat, kneeling over even closer and bringing the phone nearer to Eden; the brunette nervously spoke up on impulse.

“Ben.”

“Eden, what’s wrong?”

“Ah, fantastic, you guys are on a first name basis. This hopefully makes things faster for us. Eden love, will you tell him, or should I?” Butcher didn’t give Eden much of an opportunity to decide. “Oh, I can’t keep the secret any longer ¬– Eden is pregnant, and guess who’s the daddy?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Soldier Boy’s tone drastically shifted, cold and calculated now, like how it was the night he woke up in the cabin. Eden forgot that he spoke like, and she felt like she was having an out-of-body experience, observing the moment like an audience watches a stage.

“Well, if you don’t know, then I guess Eden here probably got knocked up by someone else. My mistake, I’m only human after all. We’ll have to dispose of her though, since she’s of no use.” Butcher declared, and Eden sensed no lie in his speech.

“You’re bluffing, you guys don’t hurt innocents, not when it’s unnecessary.” Soldier Boy responded, his voice sounding like he was speaking through clenched teeth. Butcher however found delight in this and answered almost joyfully.

“But Eden here is not innocent from where I’m standing. She’s a Supe for one, and she’s also helped you, a far cry from a regular old civilian. And who knows what she gets up to in her spare time.” Successfully baited, Soldier Boy immediately reacted, threatening in his usual hostile cadence.

“Don’t fucking touch her, don’t even fucking look at her. A single fucking scratch on Eden, and I’ll make sure to painfully kill not only each and every one of you, but also your entire families. Goldilocks’ mom, I’ll skin her, and I’ll do the same to your entire crew. But your wife’s boy, my bad, your ex-wife’s boy, will be the first name on my list.”

Soldier Boy’s tone was venomous, but rather than being frightened, Eden found herself even more detached from herself, stunned completely.

“Listen here, Ben. There is no place on this Earth from Homelander two-point-O. If you do as I say though, I may just let Eden go unscathed. What do you say, granny-fucker?”

The phone was silent, and Eden thought that maybe Soldier Boy decided to hang-up and leave Butcher to do as he threatened. As Eden watched him, she realized that the lanky man, Hughie, was gone, but she hadn’t even noticed him leave.

Was it because Butcher was telling the truth, and he intended to murder her if Soldier Boy didn’t agree to his demands. The thought of dying the death she was imagining made Eden’s eyes uncontrollably water, and tears started streaming continuously as her sinuses became congested. And the dark-haired man before her noticed this immediately.

“Eden love, don’t cry. Tears aren’t good for the baby.” Butcher loudly pronounced, entirely calculated, and from the other line, Soldier Boy’s voice returned, filled with colorful swearing.

“Fuck you, bastard – are you fucking deaf? A fucking imbecile, that’s what you are. Cheer her the fuck up, and if you make her fucking upset again, I’ll shove a gun so far up your asshole that when I pull the trigger, you’ll explode like a fucking pinata.”

Butcher only rolled his eyes, before responding.

“Sure thing Benny, but you see, I don’t give a fuck. Do whatever you want, but if you don’t do as I say, then Eden here will soon be returning to her namesake, I promise you.”

Still detached, Eden thought maybe she vaguely heard Soldier Boy repeatedly swear some more, even more loudly this time. Fuck, fuck, fuck.

“Calm down Ben, you can have your Eden back, you just need to do one thing for me, just one job.” Butcher spoke over the ex-American hero, until he became quiet.

“All we’ve got to do, is take out congresswoman Neuman.”

“The brown bitch on TV? I’ll get it done on my own. Just fucking let Eden go.”

“It’s not that simple. She’s the head popper.”

“The head-what?”

“The head popper, the moment she sees you, it’s game over, distance doesn’t matter. She’ll burst your old wrinkly brain before you think another thought, just like how you burst your pimples as a teen, and she can do it to anyone.”

“I’d be stupid to help you then, not to mention that you stabbed me in the back.” Soldier Boy’s voice echoed through the room. Eden, still detached from herself, was staring wide-eyed at the ground.

“You think Eden’s baby will ever be safe? The baby is half you, and it’s only a matter of time before people, including Neuman, find out and target it. These people have no fucking moral qualms about killing babies, they’ve killed and ruined countless already, and babies are easier to manage than adults.”

As Butcher responded, he started to kneel over closer to Eden, and stared at her with a burning gaze.

“… and I’ll throw in a final treat. After this is over, I’ll let you kill me.” Soldier Boy laughed before responding, and his laughter bounced off the walls, a perfect manly laugh for the supposedly perfect man

“And the others?”

“Consider it a temporary truce, which ends as soon as the job is done, and our interests are no longer aligned.” The bearded-man responded, and Eden could feel his musky breath on her skin. The room is silent for a few moments, before Soldier Boy’s answer echoes in the room

“Fine. But I get Eden back, immediately.”

“I can arrange for that; we’ll be working together after all.” Butcher responded obligingly with a smirk, and Soldier Boy ignored him.

“Pass the fucking phone to Eden, right now.”

Eden was still sat speechless and hallow, staring wide-eyed at the ground, and as Butcher brought the phone closer to Eden, the only thing Soldier Boy could hear was her shallow breathing. Butcher let out a humorless chuckle before responding.

“The Mis'ess doesn’t seem to want to talk to you. Oh well, you’ll have plenty of time to catch up. Tomorrow, three pm, world's largest frying pan, North Carolina. Alone.”

Not giving Soldier Boy time to respond, Butcher hung up and threw the phone across the room, shattering it into fragmented bits, before stepping closer to Eden and unlocking the cuffs. Eden was vacant as this happened though, and as soon as her hand was free, it dropped to the side.

“Sorry ‘bout the phone, love. We’ll get you a replacement.” Eden didn’t respond, and Butcher let out an exasperated sigh.

“There’s breakfast and a magazine on the table, and you can rest on the sofa. When you need the loo, give a shout. There’s someone outside.”

Eden still stared at the ground, and despite Butcher’s cold-heartedness, he still felt pity for her, and leaned down, hoping she’d turn to face him.

“Chin up, mama. You’ve gotta stay strong and look after yourself, because there’s two of you now.”

Eden still sat motionless, and giving up, Butcher walked out the room, picking the fragments of the broken phone on his way out.

Author's Note: I've got a busy week ahead of me, so please bare with me if the next update takes some time

– Chapter 5 (WIP)

#fanfiction #jensen ackles #soldier boy #soldier boy ben #soldier boy x oc #soldier boy x original character #the boys #the boys amazon #the boys tv #soldier boy x reader #soldier boy x y/n #soldier boy x female reader #soldier boy fanfiction #billy butcher #hughie #jensen ackles fanfiction

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bittersweetarts · 6 months

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How to Disappear - Chapter 3

Soldier Boy (The Boys) x OC

Word count: 4220 words

Summary: Eden Reid can't help her curiosity, and Soldier Boy can't help but take advantage of that curiosity.

WARNINGS: Cursing, substance abuse, minor violence

Chapter 1 - Chapter 2 - AO3 Page

Chapter 3: Out of the Woods

What Ben – correction, Soldier Boy – did to Eden, really was a pain in the ass. A real fucking pain in the ass, and Eden will never forgive him for it.

Running away from a woman’s home after having sex with her, before she is even awake, hurts.

But what hurts more is forcing said woman into a situation where she has to lie to some jackass insurance agents about how she was somehow robbed while asleep, and the thieves in question only decided to steal her little old Mazda, which she had bought almost a decade ago, and now consisted of so many spare parts that it might as well be Frankenstein. On top of that, some officers from the local station had to inspect her home to file the report, and no matter how much Eden tried to clean, the smell of dope still lingered, which was humiliating.

It was a small miracle that her claim was actually approved.

Turns out in the case of theft, insurers will only cut a check for the current value of the car, regardless of how comprehensive the insurance is, and how much of a premium Eden paid for it. And unfortunately for Eden, her Mazda was not really worth all that much.

Motherfucker.

In the weeks that passed, Eden found herself cursing Soldier Boy for the mess he’d made for her. But as angry as she was at the ex-hero, she was angrier at herself, for getting herself into such a mess.

She decided to help a Supe and she had only herself to blame, and worst of all, she knew better, for that was the very reason that she dropped out of college and decided not to pursue a career as a Supe herself.

Eden only got angrier when their last moments together came to mind. The feeling of his warm skin against hers, the sweet nothings he spoke into her ears, the way he filled her up whole. Fuck him. Eden now absolutely despised him, for the way he makes her feel, and for inconveniencing her life.

Who the fuck steals nowadays.

And so, after dipping into her meager savings and taking some PTO (not that she had any other choice, as she literally could not go to her workplace), Eden became the proud owner of yet another Mazda, this time an even older second-hand model in a navy color, and after a week of lots of walking and terrible public transport, Eden was finally able to return to work, where she was greeted by the ire of her co-workers (Matt was not happy by the increased workload on his plate due to her absence), and the bitching of her manager, Leslie, who went on and on about how he had mistakenly thought Eden was more of a team player. Fuck them too.

Work itself continued on as normal.

Eden worked in a private IVF Clinic in East Brunswick, and during her nine-to-five, she pretty much only greets patients and their partners, handles the telephone whilst managing records and accounts. A normal job for a normal person, that’s all Eden was looking for.

Eden also liked that her job was not strenuous or intense, and as the weeks passed, and December neared, Eden slowly started to forget about Soldier Boy. Work and her now tight budget distracted her, and Eden hated to admit it, but the car payments she had to deal with on top of constantly rising fuel prices and bills were starting to get to her, in a way they didn’t before.

Eden never had many good friends, because to Supes, friends are just tools to be used and discarded, and since moving to Jersey, Eden never tried to make any. But now, she wished she had someone to talk to, because the stress of life was getting to her. She woke up feeling exhausted, food made her feel nauseous, and every time she used her new car, a new problem seemed to arise.

The car seemed to use more fuel than her old one, the radiator started leaking, the sensors began to malfunction. Eden now visited the mechanics at least once a week, because her new car was a gift that just kept on giving.

The young brunette was not having a good time. And not that Eden would ever admit it, but the man she provided refuge for woke up something in her that was dormant before, the part of her that craved the affection and company of another.

Maybe that’s why when Felix, one of the younger mechanics from the Royal Auto Service Centre, asked her out on a date, Eden said yes without a second thought.

And maybe that’s why after a couple glasses of wine their dinner at a restaurant by the Raritan River, Eden found herself in his studio apartment in the city, under his sheets with him.

Felix was from Jersey and worked in the Centre with his cousins and guys he grew up with on the block. Unlike Soldier Boy, his hair and eyes were dark, and he spoiled her from the very start. At first, it was discounts for the work done on her car.

“Consider it the friends and family discount.”

“So, I’m your friend.”

“Maybe you can be something a little more.”

And it didn’t stop there. Felix would bring coffee to Eden during her lunch break, never let her pay for anything, and though a little corny, Felix never failed to compliment her.

“You look so beautiful.” “I love your smile.” “Your hair looks great today.”

The compliments were never ending. Eden was never insecure about her appearance, but he did make her feel good. He always looked out for her, and whenever she felt faint or ill, he never failed to take care of her, making them stay in and take it easy after work.

However, Eden did wonder if they were moving too fast. Barely three weeks into their relationship, and Eden was staying more nights in his studio than in her own bed. She had already met his friends and sister, Maria, and saw him practically every day.

And no matter how wonderful he was to her, Eden couldn’t help but compare him to Soldier Boy and even her only ex, Alex, who she tried to forget. Felix was not as well-built and sensual as Soldier Boy, but he cared more about her pleasure in bed, and actually, he reminded her of Alex before they broke up years ago.

Felix was nice, he was good to her, so why couldn’t Eden stop comparing him to the others.

It was near midnight on a Saturday, while Eden was with Felix in a noisy bar downtown, when she received a call from an unknown caller. Eden had cut contact with her family and anyone else she knew before dropping out of college, so getting calls to her personal number was abnormal for Eden.

“Be right back babe.”

Eden excused herself from the table where she and Felix sat, along with his co-workers, Jared and Rafael, and their wives, Lisa and Elena. As she stood up, Eden showed Felix her phone, to show she was going to be answering a call, before kissing Felix’s cheek and leaving traces of her rosy lipstick on his skin. Eden could feel judgmental eyes on her, but tried to ignore it as she stood, pulling down her dress and grabbing the coat on her chair, before heading out of the bar, to the smoking area.

A part of Eden was happy to have an excuse to leave the group and have a moment to herself.

The group have known each other for over a decade, and the couples there were high school sweethearts, and as far as Eden could tell, completely normal. Eden had gone out with them before, but she had never been entirely at ease. She got along with Jared and Rafael well enough, and they worked in the Centre as mechanics with Felix, and had the joy of working on her car (which was only a joy because they got to mock her for it).

Lisa and Elena, on the other hand, were not so friendly with her, often excluding her from conversation, and Eden could not do anything about it. Felix tried to reassure her, telling her that they probably didn’t trust her yet, and to give it some time.

With a small smile, Eden stepped into the freezing cold, which was only bearable because of the red wine in her system. The young brunette was met with the stench of cigarettes and a bunch of smokers, who glanced in her direction before continuing with their own conversations.

At first, Eden let the call pass, having not reached outside before the ringing ended. But the unknown caller called again, and this time, Eden managed picked up the phone.

“Hi sweetheart, it’s me.”

A cocky, self-assured voice that Eden remembered all too well spoke into her ear, and Eden’s smile suddenly dropped. The young brunette was silent for a heartbeat, before she impulsively responded, tone full of spite.

“Fuck you.” Eden heard a deep chuckle on the other side of the line, which only infuriated her even more.

“Don’t break my heart and tell me you forgot already. You already fucked me, doll.”

“And holy fucking Christ, why did I? You are literally a hundred and something year old and still act like a fucking man-child.”

To Eden’s irritation, her insults make Soldier Boy laugh even more.

“That’s not very nice to say. You used to be so sweet to me, doll. What happened?”

Eden’s eyes widened at his shamelessness, and as her voice raised, the spectators around her started to pay attention, reveling in the drama that was unfolding before them. Eden spat practically each and every syllable, but Soldier Boy only found amusement in her reaction.

“I don’t know, maybe I’m annoyed because some fucked-up bastard stole my fucking car. Oh wait, that was you, you fucking prick. You make me sick to my stomach.”

“I sure do.” Soldier Boy responded still laughing, words slightly slurring into one another. “Don’t worry sweetheart, I'm just borrowing. You’ll get a replacement later.”

“Forget it, I don’t need a fucking thing from you. Do me a favor and never contact me again, because trust me, hell will freeze ten times over before I have the remotest desire to hear from you again. As far as I’m concerned, your jackass is dead to me. In fact, we’ve never fucking met.”

Eden heard a clicking sound from the other line, as though Soldier Boy’s amusement had worn off and he was scolding her, like a parent does to a child, clicking their tongue against the roof of their mouth.

“Are you done with your tantrum, doll?”

Eden’s eyes widened in infuriation, and she ended the call without second thought. The young brunette could feel eyes staring at her, and as her phone rang again, she looked up and glared at the first person her eyes met; a blonde girl who barely looked legal, stood with a couple men, who looked twice her age. Eden couldn’t help but snap at them.

“Are you all entertained? Mind your own fucking business.”

Eden’s ringtone still dominated the acoustics of the smoking area, the sound of which made Eden want to smash her phone into the exposed brick wall behind her. Instead, Eden declined the call, swiftly blocked the number, before switching off her phone.

Try fucking calling me now, asshole.

From the corner of the eye, a lit cigarette was offered in her direction, and looking up, Eden saw it was the blonde girl she snapped at mere minutes ago, who had walked up to her, to offer some emotional support. Although Eden wasn’t a smoker, she still enjoyed the occasional cigarette, and it was very much needed now, so she took the cigarette, offering a grateful smile.

“Tough breakup?”

As Eden inhaled the cigarette, she choked, not because she wasn’t a smoker, but at the notion of her and Soldier Boy sharing anything like a relationship. Before answering though, Eden deeply inhaled the cigarette she held again

“A breakup would imply that we were together. Which we weren’t.” The blonde girl charismatically laughed, her blue eyes looking at hers in understanding.

“Been there, done that. You’re better off without him girl.”

“I definitely am.”

Eden responded in agreement, hugging herself to provide some relief from the cold, as she answered. Right on cue, she saw Felix walk up to them, smiling and flushed from his drinking. As he saw the cigarette in her hand, his smile faltered and brows slightly furrowed.

“Everything alright babe?”

“Yeah, all’s good.”

Eden nodded, before dropping the cigarette and stamping on it with her boot. She started to feel lightheaded, but tried to not let it show. Looking back at the young blonde girl, Eden mustered up a smile.

“Thanks for the cig. Have a good night.”

“You too, take care of yourself.”

The girl responded, smiling knowingly as her eyes darted between Eden and Felix, before walking back to her group.

“What took you so long? Who called?” Felix asked inquisitively, as he wrapped an arm around Eden, his warm body providing refuge from the cold as he guided her back into the bar. Eden couldn’t tell him the full truth, but she also didn’t have to completely lie, yet she did so anyway, without remorse.

“Wrong number. Don’t know how, but I ended up chatting with that girl, and lost track of time I guess.”

As Eden finished with her weak lie, in front of the bar, she turned to face Felix and gently tugged at his wrists, pulling him in for a kiss, to which he happily obliged. The kiss was deep, and though the bar was crowded, Eden felt like she was being watched, just as she had been in the smoking area.

Dismissing her paranoia, which was probably spurned by that prick, Eden tugged Felix until there was no space between them, making him laugh at her affection, and Eden laugh in return as well.

Mondays are always rough, but this Monday was particularly cruel to Eden.

In between the freezing cold, feeling weak and nauseous and dealing with a shitty work environment, Eden was clearly having a wonderful workday. And to make the day even better, Dr Andrews called in sick right at opening time, so Eden had the pleasure of dealing with cancellations, rescheduling, and angry clients who were tired of waiting for their delayed appointments with a now different doctor. Oh, and her only co-worker, Matt, decided to skip work that day as well.

“My appointment was at one, but it’s already half past two.”

“This is ridiculous, we have known Dr Patel for years, just let him know Nina and Christopher here.”

“I have waited for over an hour, this is unacceptable, and you’re not helping. Where is your manager?”

The complaints kept going, the phones just kept ringing, and Eden was struggling to handle it all. She even missed her lunch hour, as the clinic did not close for the hour, and Eden was running on no fuel, as she felt too nauseous to eat breakfast in the morning.

Eden was strong though, that is literally her ability, so she willed herself to persevere. Some days are more challenging than others, but they’re not impossible, or that’s what Eden tried to remind herself.

But it was during emergency broadcast being played on the TV in the lobby, Eden lost it.

It was the late afternoon, the lobby was finally emptying out, and Eden was busy dealing with the final clients of the day, exhausted, when an emergency broadcast by the Vought News Network captured the attention of everyone in the lobby.

“Good evening, thank you for joining us. Breaking news out of the capital today, only hours ago. Deadly blast outside of Ford's Theatre, killing at least 14, injuring at least 29. Police are still investigating the incident, but the leading theory is that it is an unfortunate pipeline accident. We turn now to Vought News Network’s Chief Domestic Correspondent, Bradley Hunter – Bradley.”

“Liam, it was during the afternoon performance of A Christmas Carol, when during the closing act, a huge explosion went off. Officials are still investigating the source of the explosion, but it is assumed that due to the building being old, it was an unfortunate gas pipe accident, but this will take time to investigate as the site has been severely impacted.”

The reporter stopped speaking for a moment, and Eden, who’s eyes were glued onto the TV along with the handful of people in the lobby, were met with screenshots of a well-built man in blurry video, and the figure was a very familiar one to Eden.

Eden’s heart dropped and stomach churned as a high-definition image of a well-built brown-haired man, dressed in his famous Supe costume, appeared on the screen.

“There have been videos circulating across the Internet of what appears to be a now-not deceased Soldier Boy, who we know in the past had gained the ability to self-explode due to dangerous Soviet experimentation, but we at the Vought News Network need to clarify that this is fake news. Our tech and video verification analysts have been able to confirm that the video involves AI-generated content, so Soldier Boy…”

As the supposedly fake video of Soldier Boy leaving the burned down theatre started playing on the TV screen, Eden’s head started uncontrollably spinning, and quickly, the TV and lobby noises started fading away.

Bright lights blinded Eden, and as she forced open her eyes, she was met with the concerned look of a blonde man in scrubs in front of her, who then proceeded to smile.

“Ah, finally you’re awake. You had us worried. Miss Reid, can you please open your mouth for a moment.”

Disorientated, Eden did as she was asked, and a quick checkup of her state was done by the man. “My name is Dr Williams, and I’ll try to be quick.”

Eden, sat in a bed, realized she was in the emergency room, as fluorescent lighting shone on her, and a makeshift curtain-walls surrounded her, and the man in front of her, Dr Smith, read his clipboard as he spoke.

“About twenty-five minutes ago, you were brought here from your workplace, from a fainting spell. You had lost consciousness, and it was unclear whether you had hit your head on anything. Upon the examination by the EMTs and myself, we have determined it unlikely, as we do not see any point of impact, and your cognition appears to be in normal condition.”

The blonde doctor pauses for a moment and meets her eyes.

“Have you had any fainting symptoms earlier today or this week? This could include any dizziness, light-headedness, nausea, and/or heightened stress levels.”

“Well, for the past three-to-four weeks, I, uh.” Eden pauses for a moment, feeling unfamiliar nerves kick in. “I’ve been feeling weak, light-headed, and uh, nauseous. But I assumed that I caught a bug or something.”

“It says here on your file that you are Super-abled, and that you have increased strength which reflects onto your immunity. When was the last time you were ill?” Eden furrowed her brows at this.

“I’m not sure, it’s been a long time.” Eden genuinely could not remember and was starting to feel worried. To this, Dr Williams hummed before responding with another question.

“Forgive me, I do not mean to be intrusive. When was the last time you had your period?” Eden quickly realized where this was going, and started to feel worried.

“More than a month ago – but I have an IUD, and my menstrual cycle hasn’t been regular in years. And my partner always wears protection.” Dr Williams hummed again, before finally responding.

“Well, it doesn’t hurt to check. We will get some blood sample analysis completed, and conduct a standard pregnancy test just to make sure, as there is still the possibility of pregnancy even with an IUD. Do you have someone you can call, maybe your partner?”

“Are you sure you want to be alone tonight, babe?”

Eden was sat in Felix’s pickup truck, parked in front of her cabin. The moment her boyfriend had heard that she was in the ER, he had practically sprinted their himself, and did everything to make her feel better. According to him, he felt guilty for not noticing that she was unwell to begin with, and he had even gotten Rafael and Jared to bring her Mazda to her cabin while she was at the hospital.

It was dark, past nine PM, and Eden felt depleted. After waiting for the test results, and having one final consultation with Dr Williams, Eden felt like she was living outside of her body, and even the extortionate hospital bills haven’t affected her, because in her bag, she had pamphlets which made her want to faint all over again.

Shaking her head and leaning over to the driver’s seat, Eden kissed Felix, before responding, while putting on her coat.

“It’s okay, I don’t want to burden you. Lab results say it’s just iron deficiency, but to be safe, I’ll take a day or two off to recover. The doctor prescribed bed rest, but with you around, I won’t be able to get any of that.”

This made Felix grin and shake his head, before pulling Eden into another passionate kiss, with a grip so strong that Eden had to use a little bit of her Supe-strength to pull away, surprising him.

“I’ll be fine on my own, you don’t have to worry about me.” Eden said, before quickly opening the door and leaving the car, not giving her partner the time to respond. And as she stood on her front porch, waving goodbye at him, it took everything in her not to throw up.

This time though, Eden knew that she needed to throw up not because of nerves, but because somehow, she managed to be the less than one percent of people with an IUD, who had managed to get pregnant.

And in her bag, there were countless pamphlets, about every fucking topic possible with regards to pregnancies. Prenatal nutrition, exercise during pregnancy, managing pregnancy discomforts, preparing for labor and deliver, abortion clinics in the area.

Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck.

The thoughts run rampant in Eden’s head, so much so that as she entered the cabin and switched on the lights in her home, heading straight to the kitchen, she failed to notice a large, bearded man sitting on her living room sofa.

“Ahem.”

Eden’s heart practically jumped out of her throat as she dropped her bag, its contents spilling out, and when she quickly turned to face the source of the sound, she was met with a man who literally scared the living shits out of her. She screamed almost immediately.

“Jesus, get out!”

Eden immediately grabbed the kitchen knife that was in its holder on the counter, and watched as the man stood there, not affected whatsoever by her screaming and threatening gesture. Instead, he started to speak theatrically, in an over-the-top Australian accent which made Eden even more disorientated.

“Now calm down, love. We are civilized folk after all. I just want to have a little conversation you, and then I can be off on my merry-way.”

As he spoke, the man slowly stepped closer to Eden, almost cornering her, which made her feel more frantic and fearful. Eden said nothing, and stepped back towards the hallway as he approached, still waving the knife in her hands in the air.

“Who the fuck are you! Why the fuck are you in my house?”

Eden’s focus was entirely on the man before her, who now started smiling at her.

“Who I am is not important, but I do need to ask. How does a nice girl living in the woods and working as a receptionist get tied up with a grizzled cunt like Soldier Boy?”

At the mention of Soldier Boy, Eden immediately lunges at her intruder, knife in hand, but he quickly knocks it out of her hand, and the knife skids to the other end of the living room. Eden didn’t let it affect her, as she immediately punched the man in his stomach, and immediately he falls to the ground groaning.

Eden wasn’t an idiot and told no one about Soldier Boy. She knew it was not a good thing that the man before her came to ask her about him. And he seemed crazy, especially at that very moment, when he started talking loudly, as though to someone else.

“Alright then, I fucking tried. Now can we wrap this up before she breaks my fucking ribs.”

In the blink of an eye, Eden felt herself tackled to the ground by someone much stronger than she was, and a rag was violently pressed against her face, and no matter how hard she thrashed and tried to push herself off, she was unable to.

As she faded out of consciousness, the intruder and another man stood above her, moving their lips, but Eden couldn’t hear or understand anything.

Author's Note: I wrote this chapter in a day and my brain is now frazzled - Hope you enjoy! As usual, feedback and comments are appreciated <3

– Chapter 4

#soldier boy #fanfiction #jensen ackles #soldier boy ben #soldier boy x oc #soldier boy x original character #the boys #the boys amazon #the boys tv #hotd #butcher #billy butcher #soldier boy fanfiction #soldier boy x reader #soldier boy x you #gen v 1x06 #fanfic

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bittersweetarts · 6 months

Text

How to Disappear - Chapter 2

Soldier Boy (The Boys) x OC

Word count: 3933 words

Summary: Eden Reid can't help her curiosity, and Soldier Boy can't help but take advantage of that curiosity.

WARNINGS: Cursing, substance abuse, minor violence

Chapter 1 - Chapter 3 - AO3 Page

Chapter 2: Sweet

While Eden scoured for her co-worker, Matt’s phone number, and frantically begged for his plug’s contact info, Soldier Boy made himself home in Eden’s cabin. And the first item in his agenda whilst doing so, was to steal beer from Eden’s fridge… multiple bottles, without asking.

“This Bud Light shit’s not too bad.”

Soldier Boy remarked as roamed around Eden’s living space, while she stood not paying attention him, hunched over her kitchen counter, texting Jenna, the woman who was generous enough to be supplying her (or rather him) some blow. Unfortunate for Soldier Boy though, Jenna would not drive up to Norvin Green Forest just for her.

Setting her phone down on the counter, Eden took a breath and turned to face Soldier Boy, who was already watching her, and the two stared at each other. Soldier was still dressed in his ruined costume, and Eden momentarily wondered whether he was comfortable. Who the fuck cares, Eden thought, and snapped herself back to reality, pressing her lips together before speaking up.

“I found someone who selling, but she’s unavailable tonight. I’ll drive by to pick it up tomorrow”

At that, Eden saw Soldier Boy’s jaw clench before he feigned a smile, not saying anything.

The room was deathly-silent, and Eden felt that it was likely she was going to be killed if she did not think quick. Turning around and opening one of her cupboards, she pulled an unopened bottle of whiskey she had bought a very long time ago and mustered up as much charm in her tone as she could.

“I’ve got whiskey, and I can make something to eat. You must be hungry.”

Eden could feel the fakeness in her demeanor, and cursed herself for being such a terrible actor, but it seemed to work, as Soldier Boy walked up to her and took the whiskey bottle from her hand before responding.

“That would be nice, doll.”

Eden was now pressed against the counter, and could feel Soldier Boy’s acidic breath on her face as he spoke. He did not step back or create any distance as he opened the bottle one-handedly and took a swig. Pressing her lips together out of nerves, Eden side-stepped out of his proximity, and approached her fridge, glad that she always gets her groceries after she finishes work for the weekend.

With her fridge and pantry full, she willed herself to calm down and started making a midnight meal, as Soldier Boy leaned against the counter near her, and began to grill her about who she was, how he had ended up in her home, and what the fuck has happened since he last had opened his eyes.

The savory scent of seared meatballs took hostage of the cabin’s living room and kitchen, and as Eden continued to cook, Soldier Boy’s mood seemed to improve.

“… and the Super-Goldilocks is back in the Seven, forgiven just like that?”

“I don’t know, I kind of forgot about Starlight and she hasn’t been on the news in ages. I think she’s quit, that is if quitting is an option.”

Eden responded passively whilst stirring the pot of pasta, and Soldier Boy let out a loud, humorless laugh. The American ex-hero was now more than half-way through the large whiskey bottle, now dressed in oversized grey sweats and a dark shirt, or rather it was oversized for Eden, but him just right. Eden hated to admit it, but she doubted anything would look bad on him.

Dinner was going to take some time – Eden made the strategic choice to make something reasonably time-consuming, in case he intended to kill her post-meal, and in the event he’d kill her because the food was bad – and Eden had offered her shower, spare toiletries and a change of clothes after he had conducted his interrogation of her.

“Denver, Colorado.”

“So, you’re a Coloradan.” Soldier Boy asked, staring at her intently as she cleaned and chopped some onions, in her sweats and sandy-brown hair in a high pony.

“Born and bred.”

“Age.”

“Twenty-five. Turning twenty-six in a few months.” Eden did not see Soldier Boy raise his brows at her.

“What do you want from me?” This confused Eden, who furrowed her burrows.

“Nothing.”

“And you have never worked for Vought?”

“Nope, not interested.”

“And Butcher?”

“Butcher what?” Eden turned around to face the man in her cabin, setting down the knife she held onto the cutting board. “… You mean have I killed anyone? No, I don’t really like hurting people.”

The questions began to trail off and finish, and Eden’s answers seemed to satisfy Soldier Boy, as did her meal she prepared, which was a warm meatball stroganoff.

Eden wasn’t blind and could see that Soldier Boy was big, so she plated as much as possible on a large plate, and placed it on the single plain plastic mat which was laying on the kitchen dining table, along with a fork and knife. Soldier Boy had been already sat at the table, and smiled at her oddly enthusiastically.

“Bon appetite.” Eden said tiredly as she sat down a seat away from her guest, who had already began eating ravenously, ignoring her.

Unlike Soldier Boy, who only seemed more alive as each moment passed, Eden was exhausted, and could feel that tiredness in her bones. Probably due to that tiredness, Eden sat in silence, expressionless, as she watched her guest empty his plate and let out a satisfied burp.

“That was not half-bad, doll.”

Soldier Boy commented as he took another swig of the whiskey. But before he was able to set it down on the dining table, Eden grabbed the bottle, now not only tired but irritated by his comment, and chugged it near to its end. As she did, Soldier Boy met her brown eyes, lips quirked with a tilted head, as though amused by her little outburst. His face tilted down, as though daring her to say something, and with liquid courage, Eden did just that.

“Are you going to kill me? I’m tired, so if you’re not going to, I’m going to bed. Feel free to sleep on the couch, in the guest room, or don’t. You can leave, I really don’t care.”

As she finished speaking, the brunette could feel her head begin to spin, and dropped the bottle onto the table before pushing herself off her seat and stamping to her bedroom, not bothering to wait for her guest’s response, who simply raised his brows at her outburst and finished off the bottle.

Who the fuck does he think he is? Eden thought as she collapsed onto bed. Her bedroom door was open and Eden did not even bother to change before falling asleep.

The blaring, repetitive high-pitched sound of Eden’s alarm penetrated into her sleep, and as she woke up, Eden cursed herself for forgetting to switch it off for the weekend. It was a Saturday morning, so why the fuck would she need to be up at half past six in the morning.

Her eyes burned as she started at her ceiling, which was beginning to get lighter, signaling the start of a new day. Eden was just about to drift back into sleep, until she remembered the night before, and the large dangerous man in her cabin.

Soldier Boy.

Suddenly Eden’s heart began to race again and involuntarily the brunette sat up, as her body now jolted into complete consciousness.

Fucking hell. Eden thought, as she reluctantly sat up in her bed, still tired but now sleepless.

The November freeze was beginning to set, her room failing to maintain its warmth. On top of her clothing, which still reeked of cooked beef and seasoning, Eden threw on an oversized lilac hoodie and draped herself with her blanket as she walked out her room, and looked around her quiet house. Except for the unmade guest bed and last night’s cooking, there was no sign of him, and Eden wondered whether he had left.

As she cleared the mess from last night, the thought of him gone brought her relief, until she looked out the kitchen window and saw the fucker on the cabin’s deck, watching the sunrise.

Sighing, opened the kitchen back-door, and blanket still draped over her, Eden walked up to Soldier Boy, who did not react in any way, instead just watching the mountains and the trees against the backdrop of the sun rising. The morning birds began their song, and Eden would alternate between watching the scene and glancing at Soldier Boy, who stood unphased in the freezing cold in sweats and a thin black shirt, which was tight against his built chest and massive arms.

Of course he doesn’t feel the fucking cold.

“It’s a nice view.”

Soldier Boy was the first to break the silence, and as he spoke, the winter sun cast a golden hue onto his face. He was still watching the trees whilst Eden watched him, and as a sharp wind passed, Eden tighten the hold on her blanket. Not knowing what to say, and definitely not pegging him for a sentimental guy, Eden mumbled in agreement, looking away.

“It is.”

Eden was right, Soldier Boy was not a sentimental guy, and he was never one to appreciate nature. He didn’t give a fuck about it, never did, but for some reason, it caught his attention now. He didn’t feel like himself, not since he woke, and whilst Eden slept, Soldier Boy was left with his thoughts, processing what had happened to him.

He was betrayed by his team, again. He felt lost, again. He felt like a nobody, forgotten, a fucking loser, again. And he was so fucking sick of it. Still looking out, feeling oddly vulnerable, Soldier Boy spoke in his usual cadence.

“My name is Ben, short for Benjamin. Did you know that?”

Eden remained quiet, and Soldier Boy turned to look at the girl next to him, who shook her head again, still intimidated, and Ben chuckled in response.

“You can use your words, doll.”

“No.” Eden’s throat felt dry, and she still didn’t know what else to say.

“I was born in Philly. We don’t have as many mountains there.” Soldier Boy stated simply, before looking out at the mountains again, finishing.

“This really is a nice view.”

In this moment, Eden wondered whether he really was that threatening, or whether she was being a coward and judging him too harshly. Taking a breath, she spoke up.

“If you think is nice, you’d love Colorado. The mountains are much grander, and the nature is breathtaking.”

Soldier Boy turned back to face Eden, tilting his head.

“Then why’d you leave?”

The brunette took no offense, and smiled as she answered.

“No reason to stay.”

Turning away, Eden stripped the blanket off herself, ignoring Soldier Boy’s burning stare and deflected before walking away.

“How do pancakes sound? Not too brag, but my Home-Ec teacher said that my pancakes were the best in the class.”

“Bet they are.” Soldier Boy responded loudly, smiling with his teeth, his green eyes fixated on the now visible outline of Eden’s ass as she walked away, her hips naturally swaying with every step she took.

Eden quickly noticed that Soldier Boy – or rather, Ben – actually really liked her cooking, and she wondered whether that was why he hung about her cabin. The leftovers of last night’s pasta must have been finished while she was asleep, and similarly, the pancakes she made in the morning were completely devoured.

The only thing Ben seemed to like more than her cooking, was the weed she bought from Jenna. And Jesus, did it stink up the cabin. Eden thought she could handle it - the depletion of her fridge, the heavy scent of Ben’s smoking, and occasionally, some strangely intrusive questions – and on that first day, she did. When Eden wasn’t cooking food, she was sat on the living room sofa reading whilst the TV was playing and Ben was smoking and drinking, and when Ben wasn’t smoking or drinking, he took it upon himself to start a one-sided conversation.

“College?”

“Dropped out.”

“A good girl like you? Bullshit, I don’t believe it.”

“I’m not forcing you to, but I doubt I’d be living in the woods and working as a receptionist forty minutes away if I did graduate.”

Ben continued asking personal questions about her and occasionally opened-up about himself. Eden didn’t learn much, but she did learn that he went to boarding school, and that his favorite movie was A Streetcar Named Desire.

“Marlon Brando, now that’s a real man.” Eden doubted that Ben knew anything about the Last Tango in Paris movie controversy which involved Brando, and considering he literally belonged to the previous century, she doubted he’d care.

With that personality, he should thank God for his looks. Eden thought more than once.

As the days passed, Eden did not expect Soldier Boy to be so genial, but she didn’t question it. If he was going to hang around her, she’d prefer him curious and amiable, rather than hands wrapped around her throat (and not in the sexy way).

After two days of this though, Eden grew quickly tired.

Rather quickly, the food in her house ran out and Soldier Boy – correction, Ben – had almost finished the weed, despite her purchasing a copious amount. Eden wasn’t made out of money, obviously she wasn’t, no one was nowadays with rising fuel and energy prices.

And since her guest was not exactly bringing anything to the table, and Eden had to go back to her job the following morning, she started to feel a little tense. On top of that, Eden was used to being alone, having been like that for years now, and having company honestly drained her.

“Hey Ben.”

Dressed in her red coat, Eden walked up to her guest after clearing up the dishes from dinner (it was lasagna, so thankfully not that many dishes).

Ben was sat on a wooden chair on the deck, now in a simple white t-shirt, still smoking and drinking. As usual, when Eden was not talking to him, Ben sat alone with his own thoughts, and Eden wondered what took up so much space on his mind.

Soldier Boy hummed in response as she walked up to him, taking the seat beside him. It was rather late, still cold, but the sky was clear, and the moon shone brightly.

“I’ve got to get up early for work tomorrow, and I’ll be away until the evening –”

“Skip it.” Ben interrupted Eden with a grin, before taking another puff of his joint.

“I can’t.”

“Why the fuck not.”

This time when Ben exhaled the smoke, the wind blew it onto Eden’s face. Eden was never a particularly patient person, and unsurprisingly, she found herself irritated by this.

“Because who’s then going to pay for that weed. You’ve already asked me to get more, and money doesn’t fucking grow on the trees.”

A crack in Soldier Boy’s friendly façade appears, as his smile tightens.

“Cussing is not attractive, doll.”

“And neither is bumming it. Go fuck yourself. And my name is Eden, not doll. It’s twenty-twenty-two, not the fucking nineteen-seventies.”

Eden’s response was quick, and with every word, her voice raised, meanwhile Soldier Boy’s smile minimized and jaw clenched, as though he were restraining himself. Unlike Soldier Boy though, Eden could not bite her tongue and continued her rant.

“And while we’re at it, what exactly are you – are we – doing? I’ll be going to work and you’ll be here, doing what? You’re welcome to stay, but I don’t particularly want Homelander or Vought on my front-porch, ready to discard me as collateral damage.”

As she spoke, she unconsciously started gripping the chair’s arm, which began to crack, and Soldier Boy noticed this.

“I’m sure you can take care of yourself, doll.”

“Of course I can look after myself, but just because you’re here doesn't mean that I'm a little housewife, cooking and cleaning after you, whilst also working and watching my back for your enemies.”

At this, Soldier Boy’s patience finished and now he spoke in the same spiteful tone.

“I didn’t ask for your help, or for anything from you. You decided to play hero all on your own. And you know what I fucking think, sweetheart, I think that your panties have been dry for a very long time and you jumped at the first opportunity you saw a real man who could fix that for you. Nothing to be ashamed of or get prissy about.”

Soldier Boy’s monologue was cut short by the sound of sharp slap.

Eden, stood now, didn’t hold herself back when she slapped her hand against Soldier Boy’s cheek, and her super strength definitely showed, as Soldier Boy cupped the point of impact with his free hand, dropping his joint to the ground, his eyes now glazed with a look that infuriated Eden even more. Eden didn’t care if Soldier Boy would kill her now and continued insulting him.

“Jesus Christ are you delusional. I would stab myself a million before I even fucking touch you–”

Eden was unable to finish her sentence, because in the blink of an eye, her face was grabbed firmly, and she felt warm lips aggressively press against hers, and hairs scratch against her skin.

Eden didn’t even really like him, so why the fuck was her first instinct to reciprocate, close her eyes and open her stupid fucking mouth. And as they made out in the freezing cold, Eden suddenly felt to warm in her coat, and as Soldier Boy pulled her on top of himself, Eden, still very much kissing him, started peeling off her coat, feeling just too warm.

And the most embarrassing part was not Eden’s reciprocity, but that Soldier Boy was the first one to pull away and hold her back as she instinctively pushed forward to meet his lips again.

“You were saying, doll.”

“Oh, shut the fuck up.”

Snapped to reality for a moment, Eden tried to pick herself up and get up from Ben’s lap, but before managing to do so, with strong hands around her waist, Ben pushed her back in, letting their lips collide again. Irritated with him yet again, Eden stubbornly refused open her mouth until he lightly bit her bottom lip, causing her to gasp, giving his tongue to opportunity to enter her mouth again.

Not that Eden would ever admit to him, but it had been a long time since she’d last have sex, specifically since her God U days before she broke up with her ex, and she has been practically celibate since. And something inside her took control as she was forced by her intuition, and ignored her rationality, similar to when she first saw Soldier Boy on the beach weeks ago.

Without realizing, Soldier Boy picked up Eden and she instinctively wrapped her around his waist, and her hands moved to his hair, gripping on the strands and inciting a groan from him. His lips were on her own, and on her jaw, neck, ears, chest, stomach, legs, and practically everywhere else, and as the night went on, the two of them did it in the kitchen, living room, and eventually reached her bedroom.

Ben would call her sweet, tell her she tasted just like that, and Eden would tell him to shut up, and to keep going. The brunette did not even know that this part of herself existed, the part of her that was so set on simply just fucking someone else and actually enjoying it, pleasure with no real love or attachment present, and Soldier Boy was more than happy to provide that experience for her, repeatedly, all night long.

When Eden woke up, she was not greeted by a warm body next to hers, but by the familiar blaring beeping of her stupid alarm. Eden’s eyes were blurry, and her head pounded as she sat up to switch off her stupid alarm, which informed her of the time. Half past six.

Eden’s head hurt, and as she rolled back to bed and turned to her side, flashes of the previous night came to her.

Her nails scratching his bare back as he entered her.

His teeth sinking into her chest, leaving temporary wet marks.

The bitter taste of his mouth, and how she didn’t entirely hate it.

Ben.

As Eden started remembering, she sat back up and her bed creaked, something it did not previously do. The brunette looked around her room, only to find it empty. Eden assumed that Ben probably went back to the guest bedroom, or maybe decided to get an early start to his drinking and smoking.

It wasn’t her business, but Eden was curious, and her feet moved on their own accord, first to the guest bedroom, which was empty, bed still undone of course. The house was quiet, with only the birds chirping in the background.

Odd.

As Eden ventured of to the living room, and then the kitchen, she found the place a mess – with throw pillow all over the place and glass shards scattered in one corner, from when Eden accidentally pushed it off the kitchen counter only some hours earlier – a consequence from their late-night activities.

Eden’s eyes scanned her living space, but no sign of the large man who had haunted her house for the past weeks could be found. Eden looked around the cabin’s front porch and back-deck, but it was just the same, empty. The only sign left of Soldier Boy was the small pile of laundry he left on the ground, and the stench of weed that occupied various spaces around the cabin.

Stop it.

Eden scolded herself as she went to freshen up for the day and get ready for work. Soldier Boy – Ben – probably felt cooped up and decided to go for a run or explore the area. And even if he left, who the cares. Eden sure as hell shouldn’t. Ben intruded in her space, contributed nothing, wasted her time and energy, and made such a mess. He was not nice, and did not sincerely thank her even once.

Sure, he was a good fuck, but that’s it. And was he even a good fuck if he didn’t even bother to put on a condom or ask if she was on birth control? That’s the thing about men, you couldn’t count on them for anything. That’s exactly why Eden had a copper IUD, because even with her ex of two years, she couldn’t count on him (apparently it didn’t feel as good with rubber).

Anyways, it doesn’t matter.

Or that’s what Eden tried to tell herself as she brushed her hair and applied lipstick, before heading out of her home, dressed in her usual outfit for work, a modest black dress and her coat. Glancing at the hallway clock, Eden observed the time, and saw that it was almost eight, which was the perfect time to leave, as she’d still have time to grab a coffee before reaching the clinic.

But as she looked at the trinket tray which sat on the cabinet by the door, she found it bare, missing something really important.

The keys to her Mazda.

The keys to her fucking Mazda were missing from the place she always kept them at, ever since she moved to her cabin over four years ago.

“Motherfucker.”

Author's Note: I'm feeling a little delirious, and I've proofread this but am not entirely certain about its quality and grammar. If there are any mistakes or something doesn't make sense, apologies! On another note, I've started watching Supernatural 🫡 Jensen Ackles, oml Also, if you are enjoying the story, I always appreciate comments as they really motivate me!

– Chapter 3

#soldier boy #ben #the boys #the boys amazon #fanfiction #soldier boy x oc #soldier boy x you #jensen #jensen ackles #jensen ackles fanfiction #homelander #vought #you imagine #hurt #hurt comfort #the boys tv #butcher #soldier boy ben #soldier boy x original character

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bittersweetarts · 6 months

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How to Disappear - Chapter 1

Soldier Boy (The Boys) x OC

Word count: 2389 words

Summary: Eden Reid can't help her curiosity, and Soldier Boy can't help but take advantage of that curiosity.

WARNINGS: Some depiction of violence, misogyny, and the usual TW for it being The Boys (Amazon)

Chapter 2 - Chapter 3 - AO3 Page

Chapter 1: An Act of Kindness

Eden Reid was at the start of her daily fucking crack ass of the dawn morning jog across Laurance Harbor Beach, sandy-brown hair up in a high pony, dressed in her usual bland sweats and black running shoes, when she came across him, unconscious along the shoreline, the waves repeatedly caressing him, gently, before retreating.

As she stared at him, the young woman noticed his tattered costume and the bruising littered on his face and skin, and that he did not appear to be breathing. For a moment, Eden contemplated what to do, because she knew that she couldn’t take him to any emergency room or call 911.

Because she knew exactly who he was.

Of course, she knew exactly who he fucking was, pretty much most of the world knew who exactly he fucking was.

He was Soldier Boy, the old leader of Payback, fought in all those important wars in the last century, America’s first and greatest Supe, a man who was supposed to be dead and yet somehow was now alive, lying on the beach in front of her.

And apparently now a Super-Terrorist, according to the news outlets, who for the past week have only been reporting on the attack on the Seven Tower, and how Queen Maeve had successfully saved the country with her sacrificial takedown of Soviet-brainwashed Soldier Boy; his defeat was supposed to be symbolic of a new age for freedom and safety for the masses.

Unlike most of the people Eden knew though, she wasn’t blinded by the lies fed to the masses on a silver spoon by the media and corporations like Vought International.

Eden knew, Eden knew all too well that Supes were nothing but selfish bastards at best, and that none of them give a single fuck about saving others. Eden knew that the mainstream media hyperinflated the heroism of ‘heroes’, and failed to report the deaths of normal civilians, who were nothing more than simply collateral damage. And Eden knew that if she was told that unconscious man lying before her was nothing but a villain, then that was not the full story.

And she knew this all this because if her abilities were not so weak, she would have been just another Supe on Vought or some other fuck’s payroll, spouting the exact same bullshit.

But no, her ability of super strength was, ironically, too weak to even be considered as a D-list Supe, despite her family’s dreams for her, and now in her mid-twenties, she wastes her days away as a receptionist at a private clinic in East Brunswick. So much for the glamorous life of the ‘super-abled’.

However, her abilities were not weak enough apparently to carry the heavy ass man before her. Although he did not appear much taller than she was, he was at least twice her size, and as she lifted him up into her arms, Eden gave a silent prayer, hoping that she wouldn’t see a single living soul as she carried the unconscious vigilante to her car, and that the oversized grey zip that she draped over him concealed his appearance well enough.

What the fuck was is my problem? Eden thought as she dropped Soldier Boy into the trunk of Mazda, a black SUV she bought years ago when she moved out of her childhood home.

Eden didn’t need this shit. It’s been years since she dropped out of Godolkin and left behind the world of fucked up Supes and drugs, and she was at peace living in solitude at her cabin by Norvin Green Forest. She didn’t need to get herself involved in dangerous shit. So why had she gotten herself involved by kidnapping the unconscious man who was lying in the trunk of her vehicle?

Eden couldn’t explain it. To call it a curiosity would be an understatement; it was more like a compulsion. She had acted thoughtlessly, as though she were possessed by something, and now, on her half hour drive back to her home in the woods, Eden began to regret what she had done.

Days passed and life continued as normal for Eden. She kept her unconscious house guest in a spare bedroom of her small cabin, and went to her 9 to 5 throughout the work week as usual.

In a way, Eden hoped that if Soldier Boy woke up in her home, he would simply leave, and that she would not have to meet him or explain anything. But every evening, following her commute, Eden was greeted by her dark home, and when checking on her guest, she found him unconscious, but still alive and in her spare bed.

Eden often thought about whether she should call the cops or to dump the unconscious Supe back at the beach (or literally anywhere else). But she did not do that, because she knew that by this point, it would simply make her a walking target either for Vought or the government, and really, it was a miracle that she had not been caught transporting him to her place from the beach. For all she knew though, some government entity or Vought was spying on her this very minute.

So instead, the young woman resigned herself to the guest bedroom, where she left Soldier Boy to lay on the queen-sized bed, most of its real estate which he occupied. As he lay there motionless, Eden would periodically cleanse his face and exposed skin with a damp wash cloth (not knowing what else to do that would help him), before covering him with a light blanket. For the rest of the night, Eden would sit on the cream armchair by him, mindlessly watching the news on the small TV set in the room, on low volume, while thinking about anything and everything.

It's not that Eden did not have anything else to do, or that she had no one. Eden prefers to consider her lifestyle as a self-imposed exile, because she knew that she could not rely on anyone. Disconnecting herself from the world, being in nature, was healing to her, and even if she wanted to, she couldn’t get herself to trust anyone, not anymore.

And so, Eden spent several weeks like this, working during the day, going on her daily runs (though now in the forest rather than the beach), and barely sleeping at night, passively watching the news and her unconscious guest, who’s bruising slowly faded away. Soldier Boy looked exactly as he did in his old film, Red Thunder, Eden noticed, and had not aged in the slightest, which bewildered her.

But despite being the vision of health, Soldier Boy did not wake, and Eden did not know what to do.

More often than Eden would like to admit, Eden watched Soldier Boy, observing his long lashes and the way his now steady breathing never wavered – not even when Eden would wipe a damp wash cloth across his body – and she noticed how quickly his stubble grew into a fuller beard, but never to the point of the point of overgrowth, despite the lack of grooming.

Eden also noticed how humorous it was that practically the only topic on the news channels was Soldier Boy himself, and how it was reported that he was not a Super-Terrorist anymore, but an odd dichotomy of hero and victim to Soviet radicalization. And so, the narrative shifted, not that she believed it to be the full truth. Yet something Eden knew to be true was not on any news channel or online forum: Soldier Boy was not dead but alive, albeit unconscious in some cabin hidden away in the mountains.

Or rather that was the truth, until Soldier Boy regained consciousness.

It happened so quickly, and Eden was not entirely awake to even process exactly what happened.

One moment, Eden was drifting into sleep, in her usual seat on the armchair, with the lamp lights dim, the moonlight from the window behind filtering into the room, and the TV white noise drowning out the silence. The next moment, Eden found herself gasping for breath, suffocating, as two strong hands wrapped around her throat, pinning her to the armchair.

Eyes still half-asleep but now tearful, Eden met the vicious stare of her now-awakened guest, and suddenly, she came to her senses. Mustering up all her strength, Eden pushed against his chest, the supe-strength of which took her attacker by slight surprise. His hold on her throat relaxed slightly, and Eden quickly grabbed his wrists to keep his grip loose.

“Let me go –” Eden choked out, trying to breath.

As though confused, Soldier Boy tilted his head, but his expression remained in its remorselessly neutral expression. Fear shot through her veins when Eden realized that her strength did not affect him but rather spiked the smallest amount of curiosity.

“I was just trying to help you.” Eden sputtered out incoherently as she felt the grip began to tighten again. Soldier Boy narrowed his eyes at this, and then right on cue, something else caught his attention.

The tiny TV in the room switched to midnight rerun of The Cameron Coleman Hour on the Vought News Network, and broadcast invaded the room, with the image of Soldier Boy plastered over the screen.

“Good evening everybody, welcome back …” Cameron Coleman’s voice echoed throughout the room.

As it did, Soldier Boy loosened his grip on Eden’s throat, letting her go. Eden’s hand shot up to her neck, strands of her sandy-brown hair falling to her face as she gasped for more air. Her skin felt sore, and she knew that if she were a normal person, she would have been dead by now, at the very least from a broken neck.

“… and please welcome our guest of the evening, Defense Secretary Chris Barney.” The cheering track played on TV bounced off the walls in the guest room, while the camera panned from Cameron Coleman onto a burgeoned man his early-thirties, already balding, and Soldier Boy’s attention was entirely captivated by what was on TV.

“Mr. Secretary, thank you so much for joining us.” Chris Barney, in his mechanical voice, thanked his interviewer as well, and Eden, with her hands on her tender neck, watched as Soldier Boy was entirely captivated by the TV interview.

“I want to kick off by asking you to directly respond to the idea that Soldier Boy and this new age of Super-Terrorism, which involves Supes living in our country, should be the Pentagon and American public’s top concern.”

“See Cameron, I am not going to beat around the bush. Soldier Boy’s attack in Manhattan is an isolated incident, and the FBSA has taken great strides in tackling this matter, and in the mere weeks past, there is already a significant reduction in the number of violent incidences within the public, both super-abled and not. So to answer your question, no it is not a concern for both the Pentagon and America, especially as Soldier Boy is an isolated incident, and dead at that.”

Chris Barney’s voice bounced off the walls, and as it sounded off, and he answered follow up questions relating to terror attacks, which Soldier Boy ignored, as he began to speak over him, his voice both low but loud, full of contempt.

“So that’s it, huh – I’m dead. I’m fucking dead to the American people. Again.”

Eden did not know what to say, and took a step back, the back of her legs now pressed to the wooden side table by the bed.

“I fought for this country. I fucking gave up my life for this fucked up country, and what do I get in return? Fucking nothing.”

As he spoke, spitting out each syllable, Eden noticed how Soldier Boy clinched his fists tightly, and wondered whether he would just destroy her home, or kill her as well. She remained silent, not daring to even breath too loudly as though that would set him off. But Eden’s heart was beating at a million miles per minute, and she was sure that Soldier Boy could hear it.

Reminded of her presence, Soldier Boy turned around and glanced over Eden, as though he were a predator contemplating whether his prey was worthy of slaughter. His deliberation lasted only a few moments. With only two tall strides, Soldier Boy, in his tattered costume, came face-to-face with the young woman stood before him, brushing away a thick strand that had fallen in front of her eyes.

“What’s your name doll?”

Soldier Boy’s voice was deep, and though he did not swear or say anything malignant, Eden was still frightened, but willed herself to not shake in her fuzzy slippers.

“Eden,” Eden responded quietly, but Soldier Boy’s furrowed eyebrows made her paranoid that he either hadn’t heard her, or that she hadn’t actually said anything.

“Eden Reid, um, Sir.” Eden said once again, only slightly more audibly, while looking to the ground, so as to avoid his burning stare. At this, Soldier Boy chuckled and gently took push a hand to her chin, tilting her face upwards, making her look back at him again.

“Well, aren’t you sweet, Miss Reid.” Soldier Boy spoke, the side of his mouth tilting upwards. Inching his face closer, he continued speaking, his breath blowing over Eden’s face. “Have you got any pills, sweetheart?”

Eden shook her head slowly, now shaking slightly and regretting her personal stance on being drug-free.

“Weed?”

Eden shook her head again, and she felt her heart speed up anymore. At this, Soldier Boy turned away to let out a frustrated sigh, before facing her again.

“A good girl. Surely you can be resourceful and find something, doll. Age of feminism and all.”

Soldier Boy’s tone was condescending, but thankfully, Eden knew that her co-worker, Matt, had an affinity for her and substance abuse, so she might be able to score something from him. Pressing her lips together, Eden nodded, which made Soldier Boy smile. Letting go of her chi, Soldier Boy turned around and sat on the armchair to his right, paying attention to the TV again, which was still playing the Cameron Coleman interview rerun.

“Well then, chop-chop sweetheart. And afterwards, you can tell me where the fuck I am and why the fuck I’m here with you.”

Author's Note: This is an AU story where rather than getting captured, Soldier Boy/Ben ends up projecting himself into the Hudson River. I am not a Geography or Physics major, so none of this actually makes sense or is realistic.

– Chapter 2

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bittersweetarts · 1 year

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Hi! So I've been having this thirst with Carmy ever since I watched The Bear and yes, you have quenched it when I stumbled upon your masterpiece Shades of Cool. If you don't mind me asking, i know Seline is a brunette but do you have any face claim on how she really looks like.

Hello! I'm really glad you like the story :) I don't do any character casts/face claims, but feel free to imagine or choose anyone you'd like 💗

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bittersweetarts · 1 year

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your carmy/oc fic is so good!! thank you so much for sharing your work!! question, doesn’t his tattoo stand for “sense of urgency?” not “state of emergency?”

Thank you! and yes – that was an error on my part and will be edited now, thank you for letting me know :)

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bittersweetarts · 1 year

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Shades of Cool - Carmy Berzatto Fanfiction (The Bear)

Summary: Carmy Berzatto never considered himself to be lonely, just frequently alone. His neighbor however, makes him think otherwise.

Warnings: Hurt/Comfort, Explicit Language

Chapter 1 - AO3 Page - Spotify Playlist

Chapter 2: French Toast

To say that Seline Hepburn was panicked when she woke up, would be an understatement.

Seline’s sleeping habits could be considered a little odd, or at least that’s what a fuck buddy from college described it as once, and this comment stuck with the brunette. No matter how late she sleeps, or how much she drinks the night before, Seline always woke up in the morning, and almost always before her alarm went off.

And that morning, as the sunlight filtered in through the windows, burning through her eye lids, Seline started waking.

This time however, when she woke, she found an arm draped over her, and the firm hold was comforting. At first, not entirely lucid, Seline found herself melting into the arms that held her. It helped ease the pain from the headache that she realized she had upon waking. But then, Seline opened her eyes and began comprehending her surroundings.

An unfamiliar room. The buff arm holding her littered with tattoos. A stench of cigarettes which worsened her headache. Warm breaths caressing her sensitive neck.

Seline’s eyes widened in shock and the thumping in her head intensified. Until she remembered the night before, and the events that led up to it. And that it was her neighbor’s arm draped around her.

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

The throbbing in her head intensified.

Fuck tequila. Genuinely. Fuck tequila. I am never drinking again.

Seline’s previous evening started with a Hinge date with some asswipe named Liam. He was tall, handsome, and horrible at texting. But that didn’t matter to Seline at all. All that did was that he was hot, and she needed some rebound sex – it was long overdue.

Unfortunately for Seline though, there was no rebound sex, only the L train back home, and disappointment. Liam turned out to have been such an ass that even downing tequila sours at the bar they met up, as though it were water, did not help.

His conversations were boring (all about the impending financial crisis and how great his NFT investments were) and his breath was god awful, as though he had shot-gunned countless cans of beer before meeting her. The final straw, however, was when he decided to casually drop the fact that he was essentially a fascist.

“It’s a major disservice to discredit what the Trump administration had done for the country. They literally created millions of jobs.”

That was the final straw for Seline, and she quickly feigned illness to get away.

What a great evening, my love life is really flourishing. Seline thought as she sat in the train, alone with her hazy thoughts.

Seline was heartbroken when she found her boyfriend (well, now her ex-boyfriend) in bed with her best friend (or rather, her ex-best friend) half a year ago. Her ex tried to justify it, by claiming she was always so busy working, by saying that their relationship was over the moment she got into DePaul for post-grad school, that Seline would dump him anyways. It was all complete and utter bullshit, but it still had taken a massive toll on her.

Seline had moved to Chicago almost half a year ago now, and during this time, she was slowly adjusted to her life here. She stuffed her apartment to the brim with books and things she loved, found an independent café in the area to frequent, and even volunteered at a women’s shelter.

Friends were a little more difficult to find since moving here, for Seline at least. She couldn’t trust easily anymore and shut herself off mostly. Upon moving to Chicago, she deleted most of her social media, and didn’t bother trying to make friends with course mates or anyone in the city. Instead, she got two turtles, naming them Homer and Sherlock, and kept herself busy. She was really good at this, and had most recently learned how to knit chunky scarves.

Was it healthy? Probably not. But it was better than trying to resolve whatever trust issues she clearly had.

But loneliness seeps in – it’s only natural. And one evening, Seline found herself downloading Hinge, for the first time in years. And then she found herself chatting to some people on the app. And then she found herself going on dates with some of these guys.

You could say that what Seline was doing was reckless. Meeting men from the Internet definitely was not on her bingo card for the year, but then again, so wasn’t finding the man she was ready to marry in bed with the girl she expected to be her maid-of-honor.

And to really make everything better, Seline now literally could not get into her home, because half of her house-key was jammed in the lock of her apartment’s door. Fucking fantastic.

Sighing, Seline began trying to untangle herself from her neighbor. Carmy.

Trying to be as gentle as possible, Seline attempted to lift the heavy arm draped over her, slowly and carefully. As she did, the hold on her loosened, and the man next to her began stirring. Taking another silent breath, Seline wiggled out of his hold, successfully so. However, she was not successful in not waking her neighbor.

“Mornin’.”

Carmy Berzatto mumbled, exhaustion seeping into his coarse voice.

As she stood in front of him, dressed in men’s clothing, his clothing, Seline felt a chill creep in. She now felt cold. And awkward, with him staring at her, disheveled, eyes still sleepy. Fidgeting with the sleeves of the shirt she was wearing, Seline responded quietly.

“Morning.”

Carmy still stared at her blankly, his face neutral, and Seline couldn’t figure out what he was thinking about. Probably wondering when you were leaving. Obviously. Seline thought to herself.

Exhaling, the brunette ran a hand through her tangled curls and turned to the nightstand, picking up her phone from the charger, unlocking it. Carmy, watching her, sat up straight and rubbed his eyes, before speaking up again.

“Locksmith?”

Seline nodded in response, still focused on her phone, Googling for one in the city.

“Who are you calling up?” Carmy asked, slowly getting up whilst rubbing his eyes again, and walking around the bed, approaching closer to Seline. As he did, the cigarette stench intensified, but Seline willed herself not to shudder.

“Not sure yet, trying to figure out who to call.” Seline responded distractedly, searching through the list of nearby companies on Google Maps.

“I know a guy. Let me call him in, he’ll charge you less than the corporate fucks would.”

As Carmy spoke, Seline turned to face him, and was taken aback for a moment by his sea-blue eyes, strong with conviction. That is probably why she agreed to his proposition with no hesitation.

“Alright.”

The throbbing in her head intensified again, causing Seline to slightly wince. Taking a breath, Seline looked at Carmy again, and was met with furrowed brows.

“Do you have any Tylenol?”

Slightly tilting his head up and straightening his back, making him just about Seline’s height, Carmy nodded.

“Yeah. In the kitchen.”

Carmy insisted that Seline have breakfast as well. If this were any other day, Seline would have politely declined (pointing out that Tylenol could be taken on an empty stomach with no adverse effects), and the young brunette would have left, to some coffee shop, to wait until the locksmith would come.

But today, Seline was hungover, and in desperate need for food. She didn’t care what, but was starving for something. Anything.

And since it was a chef offering to cook, how could Seline decline?

And so, Seline was back in the kitchen, watching Carmy masterfully maneuver through the kitchen, pulling out various ingredients and mixing them as though he were performing on stage. The performance was mesmerizing, and Seline was entranced.

“I’m assuming you don’t have any allergies.” Carmy stated, as he pulled out bottles out of his cabinets; spices – Seline recognized cinnamon and nutmeg. Distracted, Seline hummed in acknowledgment as she stared at Carmy’s arms, which flexed as he mixed the ingredients in a bowl.

“Sense of urgency.”

Carmy spoke up again, still staring at what he was preparing. He had pulled out bread from the cabinet, a little stale, which makes it great for the meal he was preparing. French Toast. It felt odd, being so relaxed in a kitchen. It had been a long time since he had felt calm in a kitchen while preparing food for others.

“Huh?” Seline’s head tilted in confusion, and her brows furrowed.

Seline was focused on Carmy, and Carmy was focused on the food he was preparing.

“S-O-U stands for ‘sense of urgency’, not fucking soup or sous.” Carmy responded, in his characteristically nonchalance, which in his experience, pissed a lot of people off. Not Seline though, who instead laughed in response.

“I wasn’t wrong though, was I? You are a chef.” Seline said passively, her eyes now staring at the back of Carmy’s head, as he stood before his stove, the sound of oil sizzling serving as background music.

The room smelt divine, to Seline at least. She had always had a bit of a sweet tooth, and the warm vanilla scent that took hostage of the room made Seline’s mouth water.

Once done cooking, Carmy began plating his dish, adding berries and syrup onto the golden bread, and even though Seline had watched him the entire time, she still couldn’t understand how it was possible for someone to work so fast and effortlessly so. Carmy handed the plate to Seline, along with a fork, still avoiding her stare, which Seline noticed.

“Thank you.” Seline said, and Carmy still avoided her stare, simply nodding before grabbing his own plate.

Taking a deep breath, Seline pieced of some of the French toast, along with some berries, and took a bite. To say that it was heavenly, would be an understatement.

Carmy, still not looking at her, had taken his plate, and leaned against his cabinet, eating his portion in silence. Sunlight seeped through the kitchen window, and Carmy’s golden hair glowed against it.

“This is great. Fucking incredible, really.” Seline muttered out between bites. Carmy was well-acquainted with praises for his cooking, yet for some reason, felt bashful by her acknowledgement, and opted to remain silent, nodding in response.

“So, what time is your locksmith getting here?” Seline’s soft voice bounced off the walls as she spoke. Without intending to, Carmy looked up, meeting her stare.

“Depends on when he’s awake. Fak hasn’t responded to my text so he’s probably still asleep.” Carmy responded, yawning. Remembering that it is quite early in the morning, Seline felt guilt coarse through her; not only had she forced her neighbor to wake up early, but to cook for her as well. Her brows furrowed again, but Carmy had not noticed, as his mind was preoccupied with other matters, namely The Bear.

It was a Sunday, so the construction crew wouldn’t be working, and that irritated the fuck out of Carmy. This irritation was so visible on his face that Seline couldn’t have missed it if she tried. Seeing his expression cross, her own demeanor softened, and Seline hesitated before speaking.

“Everything alright, Carmy? I can leave, there are plenty of cafes I can sit at until your locksmith gets here.”

Seline’s voice was soft, like a little girl, and Carmy was not used to be around women who were not completely headstrong. For a moment, Carmy stared at her wide-eyed, as if snapped out of a trance, and Seline misinterpreted his silent response. Shuffling out of her stance, avoiding his eyes, Seline collected her plate and utensils, as well as Carmy’s, placing it all into the sink, while speaking quickly.

“Thank you so much for breakfast, it was great, l really great, like the best thing I’ve ever eaten – and thank you for letting me stay over, I really do appreciate it. I’ll get out of your hair now, and um, wait for the locksmith –”

As Seline tried to leave the kitchen, with her back turned, Carmy gently grasped her wrist, surprising her. As she turned to face him, she met his light eyes, lit with mild affection. What she didn’t realize was that Carmy oddly found her presence comforting. He had never entertained anyone since moving back, and ever really; he was never one to have friends, and though he was content with his solitude, the prospect of being alone now for some reasons felt somber.

“How about some coffee first?” Carmy asked, the side of his lip tilting upwards, and this relieved Seline, as she felt less of a burden. Smiling sheepishly, Seline responded.

“Can I have some tea instead?”

“Tea?” Carmy was unable to restrain himself from chuckling, not expecting the girl in front of him to refuse coffee. She was probably the only person in all of Chicago to not drink the dark tar. Rather than taking offense, Seline laughed back as she spoke.

“Don’t laugh. I'm pretty much an addict and can’t let myself have any, otherwise I become a menace to society.” Carmy still held her wrist, and when he sees Seline’s eyes drop down, he lets go of her. Forcing himself not to smile, Carmy turns to his pot, beginning to fill it with water.

“I doubt that.”

The rest of the morning went by quickly. Very quickly.

Still in the kitchen, over tea and coffee, Seline told Carmy about herself. Carmy didn’t ask, but Seline couldn’t help but overshare.

Without intending to, Seline told her neighbor about how much she loved to read, and the reasons why Greta Gerwig’s Little Women is the best comfort movie ever made.

Without intending to, Seline told Carmy about the night before, and that she really was drunk when they met, so he wasn’t allowed to judge her too harshly.

Without intending to, she had told him about how she had moved to Chicago this past August, to complete her final year of study before becoming an auditor. Carmy couldn’t help but feel for her, knowing about the challenges of moving to a new city completely alone.

At some point, Seline asked if she could have a shower, and Carmy offered her a clean change of clothes and a towel, which Seline gladly accepted. Seline felt like she reeked of alcohol and desperation, and wished for nothing more than to wash away the remnants of her depressing date the night before.

While in the shower, Carmy watched whatever re-runs he had on the TV set from the night before, which served as background noise for the thoughts running through his head. Seline came back into the living room as quickly as she left, with her long hair damp, and in an oversized jumper and flannel pants, his oversized jumper and flannel pants.

Snapping himself out of it, Carmy wordlessly went to the kitchen to make Seline another cup of tea. Seline stood in his living room, watching him as he walked away, wondering whether to follow him, but decided against it.

Instead, Seline Hepburn opted to look at the large books stacked by his windowsill, which she realized were cookbooks upon closer inspection. The books were limited, and the paper was aged. Seline picked up one which caught her eye, which was lemon colored. Momofuku. David Chang. As Seline skimmed through the pages, smiling, she imagined her neighbor in a Barnes & Noble, contemplating which cookbook to purchase. She found it endearing.

In the meantime, Carmy Berzatto shuffled through his kitchen pantry. Carmy only had Lipton black, and even he knew that it was shit. He wasn’t even sure why he had bought fucking Lipton, it’s not like he drinks tea anyways. As the water boiled, Carmy lit a cigarette, his first of the day, and made a mental note to pick up better tea next time he does his groceries. It’s not for her, Carmy subconsciously reasoned. He was a chef after all and he should have decent tea in his kitchen, even if he didn’t drink it.

Now on his second cigarette, Carmy grabbed the mug and walked back to his living room, where he found his neighbor perched on a windowsill, completely detached from reality, reading through one of his old cookbooks. He had not read those in years, not since before New York, but he still dragged his stack of cookbooks with him wherever he moved. There was something comforting, grounding, about having them in his possession.

As he walked up to her, she lifted her head, meeting his stare. As he handed her the mug he held, she thanked him, setting down the yellow cookbook she held.

“Your collection is sweet.” Seline spoke after taking a sip. The way she said ‘sweet’ was reminiscent of a mother talking to her child. Carmy shook his head in response.

“Sweet?”

Carmy asks, looking away as he puts out his cigarette stub on a nearby ashtray. After doing so, Carmy leaned in closer to Seline, and she felt her heart race at the proximity. Carmy, however, remained unphased, and proceeded to prop the window open, letting in the cold winter air into the apartment. Seline flushed after realizing that he only invaded her privacy to let in some fresh air. She responds only after her neighbor pulls away.

“It’s sweet.” Seline affirms, tearing away from Carmy’s gaze as she leans back onto the windowsill, looking down on her mug, which was so warm that trails of steam were still escaping. She could feel the winter gust against her neck and wet hair. “You clearly aren’t very sentimental, yet you still have these here.” The apartment was bare, the complete antithesis of Seline’s own.

Carmy hums in response, still watching Seline carefully. Turning back to face Carmy, Seline manages only to open her mouth, before she is interrupted. Right on que, the apartment’s doorbell rang.

Ding-dong.

Carmy noticed how Seline flinched out the sound, the tea in her mug threatening to spill over.

“It’s probably Fak. For your door.” Carmy mumbles out, walking away to unlock the door. This time, Seline apprehensively trails behind him, setting down her mug on the table. The sound of the door unlocking is loud and disjointed, echoing in the small entryway.

“Carmy, my brother!”

“Yo, Fak. Thanks for coming over so early.” Carmy stepped aside, letting to grab his keys. As he did, Seline was met with a man in a snapback and an enthusiastic grin. In a hand, he held a massive toolbox. Seline smiled back at him, feeling relieved that her troubles would soon be over.

“Fak, this is Seline. Seline, Fak. It’s her door that has the problem.”

Fak’s grin only widened more after he realized that the girl’s hair was wet and her clothing was distinctly manly and oversized.

Carmy was quick in his speech, different to how he had been throughout the morning, surprising Seline. Upon seeing Fak, Carmy subconsciously began acting as though he was in his kitchen, always in a rush. In the blink of an eye, Carmy held out Seline red leather jacket, and waited for her to follow him into the hallway.

“Dude, why have you not invited me over before. Are your other neighbors here hot?” Fak commented after Carmy pointed out the door to the right, explaining the problem with the jammed key. Seline’s arm were crossed and she felt herself flush as his comment.

“Shut the fuck up, Fak.” Carmy responded, briefly glancing back at Seline, whose eyes were glued on Fak and his opened toolbox, as he maneuvered between the tools and the door lock.

“Will you be able to fix it?” Carmy asked, crossing his arms, his the sleeves of his shirt tightening around his arms.

“For sure bro, I’m the best you know, the goat.” Fak answered as he fished out the block in the lock, tossing it into his tool books. Carmy only chuckled in response.

“Sure, dude.”

Realizing that she was behaving like a little mute mouse, Seline spoke up when it got silent, as Fak concentrated on the door lock.

“So how do you know each other?” Seline did not miss how the two spoke to each other as friends do, and she found their bickering funny.

“His brother was my best friend for years. We’re basically family.” Was. Seline’s brows furrowed at that, and she noticed how Carmy tensed up. Fak on the other hand didn’t, and as his inked fingers screwed back in the front attachment of the lock, Fak turned back to Seline, standing up, asking.

“Have a spare key on you?”

“Yeah, one minute.”

Seline passed Carmy, the sleeve of her jacket kissing his bare arm, and she knelt down, picking up the doormat and pulling out a silver key. This only resulted in Fak’s eyes to widen and Carmy swearing.

“Fuck, Seline. Are you kidding?” Surprised by the tone of his voice, Seline turned around to face Carmy, and was met with a look of horror on both faces. Her mouth opened to respond, but Carmy did not let her speak.

“Do you have a fucking death wish?”

The patronizing tone started to irritated the young brunette, and she replied with cross brows and a harsher tone than intended.

“No need to be so melodramatic.” This time not giving Carmy the opportunity to respond, Seline turned to Fak, taking a breath, and completely altering her tone, now sweet like honey. “Thank you so much, Fak. You are a completely lifesaver, genuinely.” Pulling out her phone from her pocket, Seline continued. “How much do I owe you?”

Sensing the tension between the two, Fak stepped back, picking up his toolbox.

“Nothing, friends and family discount.” Seline attempted to protest, but Fak didn’t let her speak. “Yo Carm, lunch for the week?” Fak turned to his friend.

“Sure, Fak.” Carmy’s voice was now devoid of emotion, but if the coldness bothered Fak, he didn’t let it show.

“It was really nice to meet you, Seline. See you tomorrow bro.” Carmy merely nodded as Fak walked away, his jaw clenched, which Seline didn’t see as her eyes followed after her new acquaintance, as she called out to him.

“Bye, Fak, it was nice to meet you.”

The only sound in the hallway were Fak’s heavy footsteps and Seline’s shallow breaths. Seline had to force herself to face her neighbor again, and as she was turned around, she was met with dead eyes. Taking another breath, Seline reminded herself of the kindness that her neighbor has showed throughout the past twelve hours, and forced a smile on, taming her temper.

“I keep saying it, but thank you, for everything, Carmy. I really appreciate it.” Pressing her lips together, Seline lifted the key to the lock and withdrew her stare. “If you want me to pay for anything, or if Fak changes his mind, let me know. I’ll be here.”

Carmy finally spoke again after Seline unlocked her door.

“You live in Chicago, you do know that, right?” Carmy’s tone was harsh, making Seline flinch again. “Dumb shit like this will get you fucking robbed or killed.”

Seline was now angry. She couldn’t understand why he was acting like this. Who does he think he is? What gives him the right to be mad? Seline thought to herself.

“Dumb shit like staying the night in a stranger’s house?”

Similarly, though, Carmy was angry. He didn’t know why he was mad, and why he cared, but he did in that moment. In the brief time he has known her, Seline has acted carelessly, and it made he angry. Did she have a death wish?

Carmy remained silent until Seline opened the door and turned to look at him, waiting for his response, his tone venomous.

“Yeah. Like sleeping in a fucking stranger’s apartment.”

Carmy didn’t mean it, not entirely. He knew that his intentions were good, but now in hindsight, he is couldn't comprehend why on earth she was so reckless.

As reckless as Seline was though, she was also non-confrontational, and did not feel like having this conversation. Forcing a fake smile, Seline lowered her hands, clasping them at the front, and took another breath, regaining her composure.

“I’ll see you around, Carm.”

Not giving him an opportunity to respond, Seline entered her flat and locked the door, letting out a sigh of relief, finally being back in her home.

Author’s Note: This chapter is dedicated to the creative team behind the Vanity Fair Hollywood issue – Thank u, ur the goat <3 #livelaughjeremyallenwhite

#carmy #carmen berzatto x reader #Carmen Berzatto #carmen berzatto fanfiction #carmy the bear #the bear #the bear fanfiction #Carmen berzatto x oc #oc #original character #fanfiction #fanfic #carmy x reader #carmy x oc

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bittersweetarts · 1 year

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a little bit more about Little Lamb 🤍 I love reading about the behind-the-scenes of films, series and books, and am so excited to see this series grow – thank you to @arcielee for thinking of me for the interview <3

Interview With a Writer

This is a tentative series idea I had to reach out to writers whose completed stories I just absolutely fell in love with and just want to share with the rest of Tumblr. ♥ Its continuation is solely based if these talented beings are willing to answer my questions or not.

Keep reading

#aemond targaryen x reader #fanfiction

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bittersweetarts · 1 year

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Shades of Cool - Carmy Berzatto Fanfiction (The Bear)

Summary: Carmy Berzatto never considered himself to be lonely, just frequently alone. His neighbor however, makes him think otherwise.

Warnings: Hurt/Comfort, Explicit Language

AO3 Page - Spotify Playlist

Chapter 1: Strangers

At half past midnight, Carmen Berzatto did not expect to find his neighbor perched against the wall, beside the dull wood door, which was built next to his own.

The young woman was clothed in an oversized burgundy jacket and a black dress, too short for Chicago’s bitter winter, and had her eyes shut, with her arms wrapped around herself. Her brown hair was limp against the side of her face. Carmen Berzatto also did not fail to notice how the girl was slightly shivering. She’s cold? Who would’ve fucking guessed.

Normally, Carmen Berzatto did not deal with shit that had nothing to do with him. God knows he has enough on his own plate.

Yes, he knew his neighbor, but vaguely so. He did not know her name, or literally anything about her.

Instead, Carmen Berzatto knew her as the girl who lived in Apartment 3B.

Unlike him, who slept until noon, Carmen knew that the girl, his neighbor, was a morning person; or at least had a job which forced her to be. She woke up at the crack of dawn every single day and played obnoxious music which seeped through the building’s thin walls, and Carmen could hear it in his sleep sometimes.

Carmen Berzatto could have nicely asked his neighbor to shut it off, but he knew that he probably was not great neighbor towards her either. In between the stench of his cigarettes, his screaming from night terrors and the fire alarms going off in his kitchen, Carmen Berzatto was sure that his neighbor hated him.

Yet, she didn’t. Because on many afternoons, as Carmy set off to oversee construction at The Bear, he would bump into her upon leaving. And the girl, always dressed more nicely than he was, would politely greet him, with a genuine smile, catching him off-guard.

This time however, Carmy Berzatto is the first one to greet her. Letting out a heavy breath, Carmy removed the hands from his pocket and walked up to the sleeping girl. Stood in front of her, he realized that he didn’t know what he should do.

How am I supposed to wake her without scaring her into thinking that I’m fucking Ted Bundy re-incarnated?

Thankfully, Carmy Berzatto did not have to contemplate his options for long at all, as the brunette, sensing a warm body near her, softly opened her eyes, to find a pair of familiar vibrant blue ones watching her. Slightly shaking her head, the young girl sat up straight and tilted her head, waiting for the man before her to speak.

“Evening.”

Carmy Berzatto mumbled, his gaze falling to the ground. What the fuck was he doing. That’s the only thing that ran through Carmy’s mind, as the girl before him stared back, with her bright hazel eyes.

“Hello.”

Her soft voice ricocheted along the narrow hallway.

It was silent for a heartbeat, as the girl stared back at Carmy. The silence was comfortable, in a way which confused Carmy Berzatto. Snap out of it.

“Everythin’ alright?”

Carmy brought his gaze back up to meet her’s. She, the girl, was pretty, Carmy noticed. Younger than he was for sure. Her face was done up nicely, in a way that was not too much. When was the last time he noticed things like that about a woman? He couldn’t remember.

With a tight smile, the girl responded.

“Peachy.”

Pressing his own lips together, Carmy Berzatto glanced at his door and contemplated whether to leave her and head to his apartment. It was obvious that his neighbor was locked out, and this was a first for him to see, in the months since he moved into the block. What did it matter to him?

“Already called maintenance?” Carmy spoke up, tilting his head to her door. This elicited a humorless laugh from the girl, who uncrossed her arms and pulled out a phone from her leather jacket’s pocket.

“Phone’s dead. Not that it matters, maintenance can’t fix a broken key.”

“… a broken key?”

Carmy’s brows furrowed at the girl’s response, and this seemed to humor her, as a bright smile broke out on her face.

“A broken key. I know, I can’t believe it either. Snapped in half when I was unlocking the door after coming back a few hours ago from a shitty date. Perfect end to the night.”

With her other hand, the girl took out a key, or rather the remnants of one, yawning as she did so.

As he looked at the broken key in the palm of her hand, Carmy couldn’t help but feel sympathy towards her. She was right, maintenance couldn’t help her. She would have to call someone in, and whoever that is, it would be only tomorrow morning, if at that. It was a Sunday, so even if she managed to get a locksmith to come in, they would charge premium rates. Letting out another sigh, Carmy’s righthand unconsciously snaked towards the back of his neck, rubbing at it lightly.

“You can borrow my phone. Call family or a friend.” As he spoke, Carmy pulled out his phone, reaching it out to his neighbor. At this, the girl’s smile strained.

“No one to call.”

And that is how Carmen Berzatto, unexpectedly, found himself inviting a girl to stay over at his place, at the early hours before dawn.

Carmy should have minded his own fucking business, he knew better. But it’s not like he could leave the barely clothed girl outside on her own, especially now that he knew she was all alone. Even though she was his height, she was still frail in appearance, and Carmy knew that a girl like her shouldn’t be left alone, even in the hallways of a building. Surely she could have gone to a 24-hour diner or some motel. Unless she only uses Apple Pay. Fucking Steve Jobs.

The girl, despite feeling apprehensive about accepting his offer, fearing that he might be a murderer, still accepted his offer, thanking him for his generosity. His large stature and the tattoos which she spotted on his hand as he unlocked his door intimidated her, but she tried to rationalize things to herself.

“Seline Hepburn.”

The young brunette called out as her new host had his back towards her. Turning around, the side of his lip tilted upwards slightly as he nodded.

“Carmy. Carmy Berzatto.”

“Nice to meet you, Carmy. To meet you properly, that is.”

Seline responded, her hands clasped behind her back. Upon entering, she was immediately slapped with the smell of cigarettes. She didn’t love it, but it didn’t bother her either.

Her eyes strayed towards room, taking in the surroundings as Carmy flicked a switch, the room’s ceiling lights flickering on after. As Seline glanced around the room, seeing how normal it looked, her smile relaxed. Not a murderer. Seline hoped.

His home was not much, Carmy knew that, and he never cared about it before. So why was he feeling slightly self-conscious about it now?

“Thank you again, genuinely. You can leave me here, I’ll sleep on the sofa. I promise not to rob your TV set or anything else here – Scout’s honor.”

Seline declared, placing a hand onto her heart. Carmy let a slight chuckle, and decided that he must have been really tired, because why else would he find her joke funny. Stripping off his winter coat, hanging it on a nearby hook, Carmy turned back to face Seline, who was still stood somewhat awkwardly by the door.

Normally, when Carmy returned home, he would eat whatever crap he had in the pantry, watching re-runs of whatever cooking show was on, until he fell finally asleep. Sleeping did not come easy to Carmy Berzatto, and as he watched his guest, her eyes wide and bright, he realized that the girl might suffer from a similar affliction.

“Hungry?”

“Starving.” Seline’s bright smile returned to her face.

“This is the best meal I have had since moving here, what the fuck.” Seline exclaimed, as her fork scraped the sauce remnants on her plate. Carmy raised brows at her statement, not believing her.

The kitchen was warm, taken hostage by the smell of sizzling onions and garlic, aromatically sweet. Seline loved eating good food dearly, and as she devoured the pasta before her, she felt on top of the world.

Unaccustomed to cooking at home, Carmy had little to work with. Consequently, what he managed to whip up, was very lackluster, in his opinion: Spaghetti Aglio e Olio. Spaghetti with garlic and olive oil. The dish name sounds more impressive, and pretentious, than it actually is.

Carmy was used to having eyes on him whilst he was preparing meals, but rather than judgmental, Seline’s eyes were comforting. He didn’t mind being watched by her, nor her company, he realized not long after he started cooking. She did not feel the need to talk unnecessarily, and Carmy appreciated that, especially after how long his day has been.

The two strangers were stood in his spacious kitchen, leaning against the cabinets whilst eating their late dinners, mostly in comfortable silence. Unlike Carmy, who kept his eyes glued to the ground, Seline was attentively watching the man, as though he was the most interesting thing in the world.

“You must be easy to impress then.”

Carmy finally answered back, bluntly, as he approached Seline. For a moment, he wondered whether he had offended the girl, but he didn’t have to for long, as his comment garnered a light laugh from her.

Taking hold of her empty plate, Carmy turned to the sink, and began to rinse the dishes.

“No, Carmy, please let me. You have been so kind and courteous, it’s the least I can do.” Seline protested, coming up to Carmy, close enough that he could smell her. Earthy, like sage. Carmy Berzatto found the scent comforting.

Carmy ignored her protests, focusing on the motions of scrubbing the dishes. Understanding that he was not going to oblige with her request, Seline leaned near the counter, crossing her arms, let to her own devices, or rather, her thoughts.

Seline wanted to ask her neighbor where he had learned to cook so impressively. She wanted to ask him about his tattoos, which were spread across his muscular arms, exposed in his simple white tee. Seline wanted to pry into his life.

This was one of Seline Hepburn’s worst traits. Seline was a curious child growing up, and as she grew older, she found herself drawn to anything, and anyone. When she was younger, Seline would open herself up entirely to people she hardly knew, believing that companionship could grow from there. But Seline learned from her past that being caring and compassionate only leads to pain.

So instead, Seline refrained herself and kept her cool, smiling at her new-found acquaintance as he cleaned the dishes, and then the countertop and cooker. Carmy didn’t seem keen to talk or share his life story anyway, so it was not difficult to remain silent, just watching him.

And watching him was… interesting? How could Seline describe it?

All those days she had seen him in passing, Seline had never particularly noticed her neighbor. Their meetings were fleeting, and beyond Carmy’s captivating eyes, there was nothing remarkable about his appearance. Or so Seline thought.

Now watching him, his stoic face focused and his arms tense as he worked, Seline felt herself flush. He was really handsome, and Seline felt like she could admire him as people admired works of art. Observing him, Seline had long forgotten about what lead her to this point in the night.

“Pretty girls like you normally have boyfriends to go to. Where’s yours?”

Carmy spoke up as he finished cleaning, pulling out a pack of cigarettes. He offered the box to Seline, who declined, shaking her head, before tilting it to the side and responding to his comment, cheekily smiling.

“You think I’m pretty?”

Though Carmy remains silent, this reaps a small smile from him, his cigarette hanging on the side of his lip. This made Seline feel triumphant, and perhaps that is why she ended up oversharing about her personal life, despite her earlier resolve not to. Leaning more into the countertop, she answered lowly.

“My boyfriend is sleeping around with my best friend. Hence, I don’t have a boyfriend, or a best friend, to call now.”

As Seline finished, her eyes shifted towards the open window, her smile dropping and her mood turning sullen. The view was nothing spectacular, just another brick building, with no life, all its residents asleep. As Seline looked away, Carmy intently watched her, her chest rising and falling steadily, betraying little of her feelings beyond apathy. Carmy thought that girls were usually more emotional with shit like this.

In the brief time they had spent together, Carmy had become accustomed to the happiness that radiated from Seline, which was perhaps why he tried to cheer her up, without even intending to, which was abnormal for his character. Taking another drag of his cigarette, Carmy spoke up again.

“Well, pretty girls also shouldn’t have to deal with shitty boyfriends.” Another drag of the cigarette.

“… you’re better off.”

Seline turned back to face Carmy but kept her eyes down. Instead, she observed his tattoos, or rather the ones that are visible. They were – silly, cute – Seline thought. A snail. The outline of a globe contained in a beaker. A knife stabbing a hand. The letters – S O U – detained on his fingers. He is either a nut job, a dealer, or a chef. Can’t imagine many offices would be keen on having him around.

Forcing a smile, Seline raised her eyes, and met Carmy’s stare. In most circumstances, a silence drawn out as theirs would be awkward, uncomfortable. But it wasn’t for them. In the background, the city murmurs quietly, accompanied by the sound of sirens and kitchen static.

“So is Sou your girl or your wife?” Seline jested, a genuine grin sneaking on her mouth. Carmy’s brows furrowed in response, confused.

“Sue?”

Seline raised her own hand, showing her bare knuckles.

“S-O-U, Sou?”

At this, Carmy let out a laugh. He really must be more tired than he thought. Glancing to her left, Seline found a mug, with various pencils and pens. And a sharpie, perfect.

Seline quickly grabbed the black sharpie from the mug, and gently grasped Carmy’s left hand, which wasn’t holding his diminishing cigarette. Carmy, unfazed by her actions, merely jutted his chin down, watching his neighbor.

“Did your tattoo artist forget the -P or -S?” It took Carmy a few moments to process her question.

“You really think I wanted SOUP to be inked on me forever?”

“Some people really love soup. Who am I to judge?”

Seline took his response to mean that an -S was missing. Sous. A sous-chef then. The brunette thought. Taking the sharpie, she carefully tried to mimic the font and size of the rest of the letters. As she finished, she set down the sharpie, her eyes still fixed on his hand, and she let her fingers trace over the tattoos on his fingers, her maroon nails gently scraping over his skin.

Her hands were cool, Carmy noticed. He liked it, the feeling of her cold touch against his warm skin. Carmy knew that he was warm-blooded. It was not unusual for him, in Chicago’s freezing weather, to be underdressed. He deduced that Seline was not the same. Even now, she was dressed in her heavy jacket indoors. Maybe he should turn the heater on?

“Xanny or lasagna?”

“What?”

Carmy’s eyes widened slightly in surprise, and when Seline looked back up at him, he felt like he was deer caught in the headlights.

“Do you sell xanny or lasagna?” Seline asked, her smile bright as stars. Carmy couldn’t help but laugh again. When was the last time he laughed so much?

“Lasagna, I guess.”

He made more than just lasagna, Carmy thought. We didn’t even serve lasagna at the fucking Beef. But why should she care?

“So you’re a chef?”

Carmy nodded, his face back to a neutral expression. Feeling triumphant about guessing correctly from the beginning, Seline’s smile grew even wider. She then let go of his hand, leaning back against the countertop, and Carmy was saddened by that for a moment.

Shaking his head slightly, Carmy crushed his cigarette stub into a nearby ashtray. The fumes started affecting Seline, who let out a yawn, which made Carmy realize how tired she looked now, her eyes red and glossy. Glancing at the clock, he saw how late it was. Past one in the morning.

“Take my bed, I’ll take the couch.” Carmy said, walking out of the kitchen, expecting his neighbor to follow. Follow Seline did, albeit a little behind, as she stood in the kitchen alone for a moment, thinking on what he said.

“Wait, I can sleep on the couch, it’s not an issue at all. I can sleep on the floor if you’d prefer, I don’t mind as long as you don’t have any rats.”

Seline ranted as she caught up to Carmy, who turned around to face her as she finished. Flatly, he answered.

“I do have rats. Take the bed.”

Seline’s diluted eyes widened as Carmy spoke. She stared at him blankly, feeling slightly sick now, at the thought of there being rodents in the building. As she did, a small smile appeared on Carmy’s face. He found her reaction cute, as though she was a little girl. It took Seline a moment to realize that he was not serious.

“… and you’re fucking with me. Asshole.”

Seline muttered, pulling on the sleeves of her jacket as her stare dropped. She then strode ahead of him, to what she assumed was his bedroom, and Carmy watched her amusingly.

“Yes, I’m fucking with you, princess.”

At his mocking pet name, Seline turned around to face her host, in front of the closed door of his room, her brows cross.

“I thought we were getting along with each.” Seline muttered again, but her tone half-serious, half-joking.

“We aren’t?” Carmy responded, his arms crossed in front of him, the muscles on his forearms tense.

Carmy was a lot more closer to her than he realized, but Seline noticed. Though they were the same height (or were they, maybe Seline was slightly taller than Carmy), Seline still felt small in front of him.

There was something about him, so unlike the guys she was used to meeting. Carmy was harsh and intimidating, Seline could tell. But he was also soft… tender? As she stared at his blue eyes, Seline felt stupid for thinking about this, for making shit up in her head.

But was she imagining something between them, she wondered, especially when she saw his eyes stray lower, to her lips, and then lower. When his arms uncrossed and a hand slivered towards her, she did not move, nor flinch. She merely tilted her head in anticipation, but was met with disappointment, as Carmy’s hand grasped the door handle before her, opening the bedroom door.

As he did, Seline unconsciously moved to the side in surprise, and Carmy strode into the cold room, small in size and empty, except for the few pieces of furniture which did little to make the room seem not bare. In contrast, Seline’s apartment was loud and lively, stuffed to the brim with books and other knickknacks, as though she were a tidy hoarder.

Wordlessly, Carmy switched on the lights and rummaged through his dresser, and then turned around, handing Seline a pair of dark sweatpants and a long-sleeved top. Mumbling a silent “thanks”, Seline began stripping off her jacket, much to the shock of Carmy, who immediately turned around and turned his gaze downward.

“Oh… you are changing here. Like here, right now.”

This made Seline laugh, her teeth chattering slightly as she shivered in her lingerie, before putting on his clothing, which was soft to the touch. It smelled like fresh laundry.

“Don’t tell me you’re a prude, Carmy.”

He slightly chokes at this, and keeps his eyes glued to the floor, remaining silent. When she finishes, Seline watches him for a moment. Seline has shared a bed with friends many times before, and they were kind of friends, in some weird, convoluted way, right?

“You can turn around now. I’m dressed.” Seline said as she began folding her small dress, placing it atop the dresser. Instead of facing her, Carmy headlined towards the door, but before he could leave, the young brunette grasped his wrist.

“Listen, I am not letting you sleep on the couch in your own home.” Seline protested. Turning to face her, Carmy met her gaze.

“It’s not a big deal. I sleep there most nights.” Seline shook her head, not believing him, despite the fact that he was telling the truth.

“Share the bed with me.” Carmy raised his brows at this.

“It’s not a big deal, honestly. And tomorrow morning, you’ll lend me your phone, so that I can call a locksmith. Wait, do you have an iPhone charger?” Carmy’s brows raised even more incredulously.

“Yes, beside the nightstand.”

“Great.” Seline walked away from Carmy, digging through the pockets of her jacket, before approaching the nightstand to plug her phone in, still speaking.

“See, I don’t even need to borrow your phone. I’ll call the locksmith tomorrow, go back to my home, feed my little turtles, and we can go back to being strangers, slash neighbors.”

As Seline finished, she sat down on the bed, tilting her head, waiting for him to say something. But he doesn’t and continues to stare at her emotionlessly.

Sighing, Seline stood up, and continued speaking as she walked towards the door, where Carmy stood, his arms crossed again.

“It’s fine. I really appreciate you not letting me stay out on the hallway. Take the bed and I’ll take the couch. It’s not a big deal.”

Carmy doesn’t budge as Seline stood in front of him. Stood in front of him so closely, Seline felt small, despite him not being taller than her. The two of them stare at each other silently for a heartbeat before Carmy finally speaks.

“You’ve got turtles? As in plural?” Carmy’s side of the lip tilts as he shakes his head. At this, Seline lightly slaps his chest, letting out a laugh.

“Is that the only thing you heard?” Seline shook her head in slight disbelief, and waited for Carmy to move so that she could leave the bedroom. He doesn’t though, and remains silent, staring at her, the two almost touching each other. Not brown. Her eyes are not brown. They have some grey in them. Or a muted green. Carmy noticed silently.

Sighing aloud, Seline took a step backward, and then another, until she reached the bed, the side of the nightstand, which was near the bedroom’s window. There were no curtains, Seline noticed. She sat down on the bed again, and stared at Carmy, who was still stood by the door. Shaking her head again, she slipped under the duvet cover, turning her back to her host.

And Carmy, while watching her, contemplated his options. The couch was fine, he really did sleep there most nights. But for some reason, he couldn’t understand why he felt drawn towards her, Seline. Fucking testosterone.

Glancing back once more at Seline, who still had her back to him, Carmy exhaled and quietly rummaged through his dresser for a towel and change of clothing, before switching off the lights and leaving the bedroom.

Feeling dirty from the day, Carmy headed to his bathroom, and stripped his clothing for a quick shower. As he mechanically scrubbed his body clean, Carmy’s mind was else. He was so distracted that he didn’t notice how he roughly scrubbed away the -S drawn onto his finger only a while earlier.

In addition to the usual anxious thoughts about The Bear, especially as its opening is behind schedule, due to another fucking burst pipe, something else crossed Carmy’s mind, for the first time in a while.

His night terrors, and sleep-walking/cooking. He hasn’t experienced them in months now, not since he read Mikey’s letter and shut The Beef. Really, there was no reason for him to have them that night, and nothing had stressed him out particularly more that day. The Bear was doing good enough, they will be able to catch up on the schedule. Finances were fine. The family was getting along, even fucking cousin and Sidney.

But then again, there was still one thing that never failed to drive him crazy: Mikey.

“Shut the fuck up.” Carmy absently mumbled to himself as he turned off the shower faucet. Carmy hated when he was alone like this, with no work to distract him. His thoughts were too much for him to bear sometimes. Too fucking much.

Exhaling loudly, Carmy dried himself, and put on his clothing. In his pants and wifebeater, Carmy passively brushed his teeth whilst staring at his reflection. He tried to focus on his appearance, anything to distract himself. He hasn’t shaved in a couple days, and it was obvious. And as usual, his overgrown hair demanded a barber.

The apartment was dead silent as he laid down on his couch, which was musty and in need of a deep clean. Normally, he smoked before sleep, but he didn’t feel like it now. Instead, he stared at his TV set, debating whether to switch it on. He didn’t care about what was on, whatever it was, it would be distracting enough.

The remote was on the stand though, not within arm’s reach.

Sighing, Carmy stood and went up to the TV. But he didn’t grab the remote. Instead, he stared at it, before he impulsively walked past it, and towards his bedroom once again.

The room was dark as he quietly entered, except for the city lights which crept in through the window. Carmy gently sat on the bed, trying not to wake Seline, who still had her back, and was about to lie down, until a girlish voice echoed through the room, making Carmy flinch in surprise.

“Good night.”

Seline turned around to face him, her voice cloudy with sleep. Is she a light sleeper? Carmy thought.

“Night.” Carmy finally responded, laying down on his side of the bed. He faced the ceiling, watching the fluorescent lights that shone onto it. I really need to get some fucking curtains.

And Seline, half-awake now, watched him, her face half buried into the only pillow on the bed. She probably was ruining it with her makeup, but she couldn’t care. I’ll wash it for him tomorrow. Seline resolved sleepily.

At that moment, she did not notice that Carmy not only let her have the pillow, but the comforter entirely as well. What she did notice though, was how dreamlike Carmy looked. Even in the dark, his eyes were glowing, and his features reminded her of the statues that you see in museums.

Carmy could feel her lingering stare, but again, he didn’t mind it. After some time though, he spoke up, still not feeling tired at all.

“Bife de tartaruga.” Carmy whispered, so quietly that he didn’t expect Seline to hear him.

“What?” Seline responded, her voice bouncing off the walls again.

“Bife de tartaruga. It’s a Cape Verdean dish. Turtle steak. I made it once.”

His time at the CIA, the Culinary Institute of America, flashed through his eyes. Pierre Thiam, a visiting chef, taught the dish in an elective class he attended once. He even got to try it. It was really fucking good, the acidic turtle flesh melting into his mouth.

Carmy felt the bed shift slightly, and suddenly, he was softly smacked on the head with a pillow. His pillow. Her girlish laughter followed, and she giggled through her words as well.

“Shut up.”

Seline’s laugh was warm, real, and Carmy couldn’t help but smile at it.

Author’s Note: Carmy is so babygirl – I had to write a story about him, I really had to, you know

– Chapter 2

#carmy #carmy the bear #the bear #fanfiction #carmen berzatto #carmen berzatto x reader #carmen berzatto x oc #carmen berzatto fanfiction #the bear fanfiction #reader #oc #original character

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bittersweetarts · 1 year

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Hello, hope you’re doing well!

Hello - I'm doing alright, thank you for checking in! Hope you are having a lovely start to the year :)

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bittersweetarts · 1 year

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Can you please pin a masterlist on your page? It will help a lot to find your works💜

Done - Thank you for asking, I really should have done it ages ago!

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bittersweetarts · 1 year

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Masterlist ✴ by bittersweetarts

Fandoms: House of the Dragon (TV), The Bear (TV), The Boys (TV)

Little Lamb – Aemond Targaryen x Reader

Summary: As a maiden of a noble house, it is your duty to wed well. But how will you manage to, with a curious and possessive Prince in the picture?

Status: Complete

Spotify Playlist – AO3 Page

Chapter 1: The Summer Solstice Festival

Chapter 2: Jealousy

Chapter 3: Dead of Night

Chapter 4: Morning Sins

Chapter 5: Family Line

Chapter 6: To Be Alone

Chapter 7: Homecoming

Chapter 8: Yearning

Chapter 9: The Tempest

Chapter 10: Solemn Oaths

Chapter 11: Cherry Wine

Chapter 12: Tenderness

Chapter 13: Bound By Blood

Chapter 14: Mercy

Chapter 15: Absolution

BTS Interview by @arcielee

The Great War - Aemond Targaryen x OC , Aegon Targaryen x OC

Summary: A war is brewing, but only some know this – Camyla Peake, daughter of Lord Unwin Peake, is sent King’s Landing to wed the Hand of the King. It is a shame though, that she garners the attention of his grandsons instead.

Status: Work in progress

Spotify Playlist - AO3 Page

Chapter 1: The Flowering

Author’s Note: This story is currently on hiatus

Shades of Cool - Carmen “Carmy” Berzatto x OC

Summary: Carmy Berzatto never considered himself to be lonely, just frequently alone. His neighbor however, makes him think otherwise.

Status: Work in progress

Spotify Playlist - AO3 Page

Chapter 1: Strangers

Chapter 2: French Toast

How to Disappear - Soldier Boy (The Boys) x OC

Summary: Eden Reid can't help her curiosity, and Soldier Boy can't help but take advantage of that curiosity.

Status: Work in progress - AO3 Page

Chapter 1: An Act of Kindness

Chapter 2: Sweet

Chapter 3: Out of the Woods

Chapter 4: Talk

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bittersweetarts · 1 year

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Can’t wait for more!! I hope she doesn’t end up marrying Otto. True trigger warning

Thank you for reading! Do not worry, she definitely will not end up with Otto ;)

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bittersweetarts · 1 year

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Little Lamb - Aemond Targaryen x Reader (Chapter 15)

Aemond Targaryen x You – Chapter 1

Word count: 3673 words

Summary: As a maiden of a noble house, it is your duty to wed well. But how will you manage to, with a curious and possessive Prince in the picture?

WARNINGS: This is the last chapter of this story.

Note: To set the tone, I recommend putting Yes to Heaven by Lana Del Rey on loop.

Chapter 15: Absolution

It was only after the birth of your first child, a lively fair-haired girl named Aerys, that you gathered the courage to ask something from Aemond, something that had been weighing heavy on your mind since the two of you met.

“Aemond, my love.”

Your voice echoes in your shared quarters. You set down a letter sent from your sister, Lauryn, which you just finished reading, and pick up the small figure that you had left by the window. Smiling, you cross over to him, seating yourself on the arm of his chair. Aerys was soundly asleep in her cradle, with her dragon egg, graciously gifted on her birth day by Helaena, as she had promised to you on your wedding day.

As you speak, Aemond looks up from his parchment, tilting his head to face you, returning your smile. Normally you do not disturb him when he is busy with his duties, but you had decided that you could not wait until he was done, and that you must ask him now. You have tried to countless times before, but always cower, failing to ask the questions that have plagued your mind for so many moons now.

In your hands, you played with a small wooden carving of a dragon, one which Aemond had gifted to you in what felt like a lifetime ago.

Before the two of you were betrothed, you had misplaced it, but you recently found it in one of your old pouches and were happy to have recovered it again. Taking hold of one of his hands, you place the wooden figure into his palm, and he chuckles in amusement, before pulling you onto his lap. You are dressed in a thin nightgown and flush at the feeling of his covered groin against you.

“Aegon used to mock me for caring about you, did you know?”

Your brows furrow at his assertion, and you tilt your head, waiting for him to continue. Pulling you in closer, Aemond pressed his lips against your jaw, tender and warm, before continuing.

“… He could not understand why, and when he had realised the extent of my obsession, he told me to either just fuck you or to fuck a whore that looks like you. I could not even fathom doing that, so instead, I spent my free time scouring for things that you might like. I was desperate to have you simply acknowledge me, and I would have emptied the royal treasury to do so.”

Aemond professed in a low tone, and you flushed at his admission. You agreed with Aegon, in that you still could not understand why Aemond had initially been attracted to you, for you considered yourself plain and uninteresting.

“You did not have to.” You softly respond, intertwining your fingers into the palm that held the wood figure, his touch rough and callous. Aemond shook his head, but did not get the opportunity to say anything, as you continued.

“This is my favourite gift from you.”

Bringing your face closer to his, you watch him closely as he examines the figure, tracing its carvings, as well as your fingers.

“You do not like the jewels or dresses that I gift you?” Aemond says, frowning as he put aside the wooden dragon on the desk, opting to play with the ruby necklace hanging on your chest instead, another gift from what felt like a life time ago. You laugh in response, feeling like he misunderstood you.

“Of course not. I love it the most because it makes me think of you. I used to stare at it for hours, memorising every curve and cut. It could not replace you, but it brought me some comfort in your absence.” You admit, helplessly honest, and this softens the one-eye Prince’s expression.

When you finish, Aemond gently takes hold of your hips, holding you firmly in place, while bridging the gap between the two of you. As he does, Aemond presses his warm lips onto yours, and you smile against the kiss, before pulling away and letting out a deep breath.

“Can I ask you something?” You ask nervously, staring down at his chest. You did not know how else to approach the subject and were trying to muster all of your courage.

“Anything.” Aemond says, tenderly grasping your chin, tilting your head up to face him. You are silent for a moment as you stare at him, but force yourself to speak. Gently bringing a hand to his face, you trace the scars around his sapphire, and he shivers under your cool touch. You take another deep breath before speaking.

“Tell me about Lucerys Velaryon.”

As your voice echoes throughout the room, Aemond freezes completely, his stare vacant and empty. You feel your heart ache at the sight of this, but you remain unrelenting. Taking hold of his face with both of your hands, you look at Aemond as you repeat yourself.

“Tell me about Lucerys Velaryon. Please.”

Aemond snaps out of his trance as you ask again, and shakes his head repeatedly, remaining speechless. You wonder whether you are pushing him to far, because after all, this was something the two of you had never spoken about before, not directly at least. But you need to know, and now that you had started asking about it, you could not get yourself to stop.

You needed to know. You needed to know why Aemond had slayed his nephew, a boy who was only four and ten, a boy who was blood of his own. You needed to know Aemond’s side of the story. You loved him and accepted him as he is, but you could not go on another day, not knowing how and why it had happened.

“Anything. You said anything, Aemond.”

The one-eyed Prince’s gaze sharpened at your assertion, feeling hurt by how his words were being thrown back at him by someone he cared for so deeply. Pulling away from you, and lifting you off him, Aemond pushed his chair back and hoisted himself out of his seat, turning his back to you. Your heart races as you watch him, waiting for him to say something. It is deathly silent until he finally does.

“That is not a question.” He says simply.

You think on his response, and decide to continue, despite being afraid. You walk up to him and take hold of his hands, but keep your gaze to the ground. Your voice is meek when you ask again, your throat dry.

“How did Lucerys Velaryon die?”

“I killed him.” Aemond states the obvious, and he wipes away a tear that escapes onto your cheek unknowingly. Kinslaying was after all once of the most egregious sins imaginable, and you cannot help but feel worried for him, because no sin goes unpunished in life, or at least that is what you believe.

“Tell me how.” You continue relentlessly. You initially expect Aemond to get angry with you, or to throw a fit. He does not, and instead remains calm, almost emotionless, as though this was something he had buried so deep within himself that he could not dig out anymore.

“You do not want to know.” He says lowly, still devoid of emotion.

“Tell me as it was. Tell me what had happened, truthfully. It will not change the way I feel. Nothing can.”

“That is not true.” He says, his voice now cracking. For a moment, you want to give up, to forget about it all and pretend that you never started this conversation. You did not want to hurt him, to see any pain in his expression. But you hold your ground and continue.

“It is true. I love you, you know that I do. You are my family, your family is my family, and you are Aerys’s father. I accept you as you are, but I need to know. I cannot go on another day not knowing what happened.”

Sighing in defeat, Aemond wrapped his arms around you and embraced you. You wait for him to begin speak, and it takes some time. Aemond first begins trailing wet kisses across your face, before pulling you closer to the bed, and kissing you softly, before finally speaking.

“I was nine and ten, eager to prove my worth. My brother had become King and I was not even the spare in the war. I had the largest dragon in the world, intellect and skill, and the confidence of all those around me, but that was not enough. I was not enough.” Aemond’s voice cracked, but remained silent, watching him as he continued.

“You know this part already. I was sent to Storm’s End to secure Lord Baratheon’s fealty, and I did as I was told.”

By promising to wed one of his daughters. You knew that well, and you still felt guilty about how everything proceeded after. You had lost most of your family by wedding Prince Aemond, as your House was sworn to serve House Baratheon, and your union was still not accepted by your brother, Tommen, who was Head now that your father had passed. You remained quiet as Aemond continued.

“My nephew, Lucerys, was also sent to Storm’s End, at his mother’s bidding. I did not like my half-sister nor her son, not since the bastard had stolen my eye. An eye for Vaghar was a fair exchange, and I think that I would have let it go, but the night that it happened, no one cared or tried to protect me. No one but my mother.”

As Aemond spoke, his speech began to become disjointed, it was difficult for you to keep up with his story.

“… It all happened so quickly. One moment I was trying to get my nephew to take out his eye – I wanted to gift it to my mother, and for Rhaenyra to understand that she was not heir the Iron Throne.”

As Aemond’s breathing became more rapid, you understood that he was now becoming more frenzied. You tried to calm him down, by wrapping your arms around him, but failed to, as his voice grew louder and his eye began to water. The two of you were stood near your bed, and he proceeded to seat himself on the edge, lowering his head while doing so.

“I was on Vaghar, chasing him, trying to scare him, and I felt like a God. I felt powerful, like I was something, and it was everything to me, because I was so used to feeling like nothing. But very quickly, this feeling was gone. I had killed him, my nephew. Vaghar had gnashed into the boy and his dragon. I did not mean to, and I did not even realise what was happening until it had happened, and I tried to get Vaghar to stop before, but I failed to. I was stupid, and I wrongly believed that we Targaryens controlled dragons. It is untrue.”

Aemond had closed his eye and was crying now. This was the first time you had ever seen him doing so. He tried to conceal his emotion by shielding his face with his hands, which dug roughly against his scalp.

As he did, you got on your knees, and began kissing his damp cheek, wiping away the tears that escaped. You knew that you were hurting him by asking him about this, but you had to know. You had anticipated cruelty from Aemond, to hear that he had murdered his kin in cold blood, but instead, you were met with admission. Instead, you were the cruel one, forcing your husband to relive a difficult memory. You knew that you were being selfish and resolved to apologise for this after.

“And you have never told anyone.” You stated simply. If he had told someone, he would not be perceived as the wayward Prince, known for his cruelty. Aemond shook his head in response.

“No, I could not. If I told anyone that it was an accident, I would still be a kinslayer, but a foolish one at the eyes of everyone. If I admitted my weakness, I would have forfeited not only my life, but that of my family. I could not.” Aemond finished, opening his eye to look at you, his voice quiet and child-like.

In a way, you felt like you always knew, or at least had a suspicion. All believed the one-eyed Prince to be cruel, that he was menacing and heartless, and he had done more so to encourage it, and you believed it at first. But you realised that he was the very opposite. Aemond Targaryen, underneath it all, was particularly sensitive to the feelings of others, more so than many, perceiving of everything around him. Even now, as Aerys began to turn in her cradle and wake, letting out a quiet cry, he wordlessly pulled himself away from you, and lifted your girl, rocking her back to sleep.

You sat in bed as you watched the man you love calm your babe back to sleep. You noticed how he avoided looking at you as he did so, turning his back to you, which only made you feel worse for forcing him to tell you about something so painful.

As Aerys fell back asleep, and Aemond placed her back into her cradle, you silently approached him, and wrapped your arms around him. Reluctantly, Aemond did the same, wrapping his hard arms around you, holding you tightly, as though he intended to never let you go.

Perhaps because the loss incurred during the war was devastating for most, all was relatively peaceful in the Realm, or at least in your little corner in the Realm. Whenever King Aegon sent Aemond off to handle matters with Vaghar, he would be gone for no longer than a few days. In the time he would be gone, you would be so preoccupied with taking care of your children, that his brief absences were not difficult to bear, and he would never fail to make up for lost time when he returned.

You found yourself with child, or rather children, once more following the birth of Aerys. With an easy birth, you had given life to two small boys, Daegor and Aerion Targaryen, who took after their father completely in appearance, except for their eyes, which they got from you.

Older than her brothers, Aerys would ecstatically play with them every day, and proclaimed them to be the best brothers in the world. Though nights were often sleepless with the boys, Aemond would always stay awake, helping you with Daegor and Aerion. The difficulty was that when one babe finally calmed down, the other would begin throwing a fit, causing the other to cry as well, and it became an endless cycle. Unlike you though, Aemond never lost his patience with the boys, and that inspired you to do better as well.

For their first name day, King Aegon declared that there should be a celebration for Daegor and Aerion, and so, you all found yourself in Kingswood on one fine Spring day. Oddly, Aegon had grown to become fond of Aerys, who was spirited and very opinionated, unafraid of being bold in front of her uncle despite his post. So, when one evening, during supper, she had asked the King that they all go hunting, in celebration of Aerion and Daegor’s first name day, the King affirmed that they all would.

Hunting did not interest you, so you found yourself in a grand tent with the Queens and Princess Jaehaera, drinking tea while chatting with them about both everything and nothing. Was the Triarchy alliance between the Free Cities, Lys, Myr, and Tyrosh, doomed to fail? Would Aerys’s dragon egg ever hatch, or would she have to claim a dragon just as her father had? Who from the hunting party would return with the best catch? Queen Alicent would jest that it would Aerys, despite her lack of training, meanwhile Helaena wistfully hoped that they come empty-handed. Princess Jaehaera on the other hand, reluctantly opined that it would probably be one of her uncles, given that they were most skilled.

You were very fond of the Princess Jaehaera, and hoped that Aerys would come to be as wonderful as her as she aged. Jaehaera had grown to become an introspective young woman. Unlike her twin, she often concealed her emotions, but made for excellent company, as she always had an interesting and wise perspective on matters. However, her nature was rather solitary, and she remained mostly detached from the ladies Queen Alicent had called to court for her. This was why it brought you lots of joy whenever Prince Daeron and your brother visited, for they were the only people who brought out her spirit, and with them, you could find the Princess laughing and dancing.

Steffon, now stationed as a knight at Old Town, was visiting King’s Landing, with Prince Daeron, the pair now very close friends. Your brother’s visits have become increasingly frequent over the years, and this brought you a lot of joy, as you loved your brother dearly, and he always brought along news about your family. Most recently, the last of your younger sisters, Taliya, had been betrothed to Lord Tully’s eldest son, and Steffon had reassured you that you would definitely be invited to their wedding, as House Tully would never disrespect House Targaryen. His reassurance brought a lot of relief, and you hoped for a raven to carry an invitation to arrive.

Steffon and Prince Daeron, along with the King, Aemond and some white cloaks went hunting with the children (except for your small boys, who slept soundly with you). The Queens, Princess Jaehaera and you were still in the company of some knights, which included Ser Landor, who you trusted with your life.

It was only near sunset that the hunting party returned, and as they approached your tent, from a distance, you saw Aemond and Prince Jaehaerys, a boy grown now, carrying a stag.

“Mother! Mother!” You heard your girl and see a head of pale hair sprinting towards you, dressed in dark hunting attire. Trailing behind her was Prince Maelor, who watched the girl devoutly. Wherever the lively Aerys was found, the stoic Maelor would be quietly trailing behind, ready to defend her against anyone willing do her harm.

You sometimes would jest to Aemond that they might follow Targaryen tradition, but Aemond would swiftly dismiss this, stating that Aerys was still a child, and the two of you had many years before you would even need to speak about betrothing her to anyone at all. You enjoyed riling him up like this and found that it was easy to do when discussing your girl’s future.

“Go ahead, I will be here with Aerion and Daegor.” Alicent asserted, placing her hand onto your forearm. Smiling, you thank her and briskly walk towards the hunting party, meeting your girl midway.

“Mother – You should have seen how many hares uncle Steffon caught!” Aerys ranted excitedly as you embraced her. You did not worry about her being out in the forest, not when she had so many loved ones looking out for her.

“I killed two more than he did! This is just blatant favoritism now, and I deeply resent it, my niece.” Daeron huffed, walking up towards the two of you, as you let Aerys go.

“Oh shut it. You are just jealous that you are not her favourite uncle.” Steffon boasted cheerfully, throwing an arm around Daeron before greeting you. “Sister.”

“Brother.” You nod back, smiling. Daeron was now sulking, his eyes narrow, glaring at Steffon.

“If anyone is my favourite, it is uncle Aegon. He gives me gifts much more than you do.” Aerys retorted back, her arms cross and her smile devious. You shake your head at her callousness, not understanding how you had managed to raise a daughter so haughty.

“Tell me, brother. What is it like to lose?” Aegon speaks loudly, walking slower that the rest. Immediately, Daeron pulls out of Steffon’s grip, and you are about to intercede and tell off Aerys for causing unnecessary conflict, until you feel strong arms wrap around you and lips press against your ear.

“Missed me?” Aemond lowly whispered into your ear needily. You craved his touch whenever he was away, even if for a few hours, but now, you try to escape his grasp, as he was warm and sweaty.

“You reek!” You exclaim, trying to pull out of his embrace, but he only traps you further, laughing as you try to squirm away.

From a distance, you hear more laughs, and you realise that everyone else has walked ahead towards the tent, probably starving for food and wine. You could see your brother, Steffon shakes his head as he walked away, causing you to roll your eyes. Yielding to Aemond, you sigh and twist yourself to face Aemond, who is staring at you affectionately.

The sun was bleeding now, its blushing light spreading everywhere, and it glowed against the stray hairs that hung around Aemond’s face. You reached up to push them away, before gently placing the palm of your hand against his jaw. His skin was still damp with sweat, but you did not mind all that much anymore. The last breath of Spring flowed before you finally broke the silence between the two of you, beaming at him.

“Dance with me.”

Aemond endearingly smiles back at you as he responds. “There is no music.”

“It does not matter. Dance with me.”

You persist, bringing your hands to his, once again attempting to pull out of his grasp. But Aemond does not let you go, and instead brings his hands to your waist, still holding you closely, whilst beginning to sway. You follow his lead, and move along with him, setting your head down on his chest. And the two of you stay like this, swaying together, for a very long time.

Author’s Note: Hope you enjoyed the last chapter! Music by Hozier, Lana Del Rey and Tamino inspired this entire plot, and I wanted the story to end with the same blissful feeling that their music invokes. It is nowhere near cannon, but I choose to live in my delusions and pretend that things ended a little more happily for some of my favourite war criminals. Thank you so much for reading, I really appreciate all the kind comments and support I have received along the way.

If you liked Little Lamb, you might like my new story, which you can find on my profile. It is going be much longer, and I am posting new chapters every Wednesday, to help tide us over until the next season of House of the Dragon comes out. Happy Holidays, and Merry Christmas to those that celebrate!

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#aemond targaryen #aemond one eye #Aemond the Kinslayer #aemond #aemond targaryen x reader #aemond targaryen fanfiction #aemond targaryen imagine #aemond targaryen x you #fanfiction #comfort #hurt #house of the dragon #hotd #game of thrones

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