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Description: Y/N hasn’t had the best life, especially at home, and she thought joining the Hellfire Club with Eddie would help her to escape the world that she’s living in. However, when the members of the Hellfire Club begin to bully Y/N, she begins to shut down, and Eddie makes it his mission to figure out what happened and help her through.
The first time you walked into Hellfire Club, you thought maybe you'd finally found somewhere you belonged. It wasn't because you loved Dungeons & Dragons, even though you learned to enjoy it pretty quickly. It also wasn't because the club was full of Hawkins High's outcasts and misfits.
It was because of Eddie Munson. Not in the way everyone assumed. It wasn't because he was loud or rebellious, or because half the school thought he was scary. It was because he looked at you like you mattered. Like you existed. Like you weren't invisible.
At home, that feeling was rare. Your mother spent most evenings locked in her room with a bottle of vodka. Your father often reminded you that you were a burden. Some nights, you lay awake listening to them yell at each other through the thin walls. Other nights, they screamed at you.
Hellfire became your escape. Every Tuesday and Thursday, you'd sit at the table surrounded by dice, character sheets, and Eddie's dramatic storytelling. For a few hours, you weren't Y/N. You were a warrior. A mage. A hero. Someone worth saving. For a while, things felt okay. But then they didn't.
It started small. A few jokes. Comments disguised as teasing. Nothing serious enough to call out. Nothing clear enough for Eddie to notice.
"Wow, Y/N actually rolled something useful."
"Careful, she might cry if her character dies."
"Do you even know how to play?"
Everyone laughed. You laughed too. Because that's what everyone expected you to do.
Then the jokes became routine. Every session. Every mistake. Every word you spoke. Someone had something to say. Soon, you stopped speaking altogether. The quieter you got, the easier it became for them. They interrupted you. Ignored your ideas. Talked over you. You told yourself it wasn't a big deal. You told yourself you could handle it. You had dealt with worse before. Much worse.
But people can only take so much. Even when they're used to pain.
"Eddie?" You barely looked up from your character sheet.
"Hm?"
"What does my spell do again?"
Before Eddie could answer, one of the boys snorted. "Maybe read the sheet for once."
Laughter erupted around the table. Heat flooded your face. You stared at the paper.
"Right."
You didn't ask again. Eddie frowned.
In the next few weeks, he noticed more. You sat farther away. You rarely smiled. You left immediately after the meetings. You never lingered to talk anymore. The spark that used to light up your eyes at the start of a campaign was gone. Eddie remembered the girl who had shown up months ago, looking both scared and hopeful at once. Now she just looked tired.
One afternoon, he caught up to you in the parking lot.
"Hey!"
You froze. "Oh. Hi, Eddie."
"You got somewhere to be?"
"Home."
The way your voice fell made him wince. "Want a ride?"
"No." You answered too quickly. You sounded too defensive.
His concern deepened. "You sure?"
"Yeah."
You forced a smile. "I'm fine."
You weren't. And Eddie knew it.
A week later, everything finally broke. Hellfire was in the middle of a campaign. Your character had discovered an alternate route through a dungeon. You spent twenty minutes piecing it together. You felt proud of what you had done. You were even excited. So when Eddie asked if anyone had ideas, you spoke up.
"I think we should use the eastern tunnel."
The table fell silent. Then someone laughed. "Why?"
Another rolled his eyes. "Because she's trying to get us killed."
"Wouldn't be the first stupid thing she's done." The others chuckled. Not everyone.
But enough. Enough to hurt. Shame burned in your chest. You wanted to shrink out of sight, to disappear before anyone could see how much it stung. Part of you tried to convince yourself it didn't matter, that you could just laugh it off and no one would know. But another voice, quieter and sharper, whispered that maybe they were right. Maybe you really did not belong here. For a moment, you wondered if you would ever be anything besides a joke.
It was enough to remind you of every cruel word you had ever heard at home. Every insult. Every dismissal. Every moment, you'd been told you weren't worth listening to. Something cracked. You swallowed hard. Staring down at the table. Nobody noticed the tears gathering in your eyes. Except Eddie.
The room went quiet. His expression darkened. "What did you just say?"
Nobody answered. The boys suddenly looked nervous. Eddie slowly stood.
"I asked a question."
"It's just a joke, man."
"No." His voice was sharp. Cold. "It isn't."
The room fell completely silent. You stood up so suddenly that your chair scraped against the floor. "I should go."
"Y/N-"
"I'm fine." You rushed out before anyone could stop you. You weren't fine. By the time you reached home, your father was already angry. You could hear him yelling before you even opened the door. Wonderful. Exactly what you needed.
The next morning, there was a knock at your bedroom window. You nearly screamed. Then you saw wild curls and a denim vest. "Eddie?"
He grinned awkwardly. "Can I come in?"
Twenty minutes later, he sat cross-legged on your floor. Your room was small. Cold. Nearly empty. His eyes took in everything. The cracked walls. The broken lamp. The bruises peeking from beneath your sleeve. His stomach dropped.
"Y/N."
You looked away. "Don't."
"Don't what?"
"Look at me like that."
His voice softened. "Like what?"
"Like you pity me."
Something shattered in his expression. "I don't pity you."
You laughed bitterly. "Then why are you here?"
"Because you're hurting."
Silence. You stared at the floor.
"You know what's funny?" Eddie didn't answer. "I joined Hellfire because I wanted somewhere safe." Your voice trembled. "A place where I didn't have to feel miserable all the time." His chest tightened. "And then they started acting just like everyone else."
A tear slipped down your cheek. You quickly wiped it away. But another followed. Then another. And suddenly you couldn't stop. Years of pain poured out all at once. "My parents hate me." The words came out broken. Raw. "I can't remember the last time someone said they were proud of me." Eddie's eyes burned. You continued. "I thought Hellfire was different." Your voice cracked. "I thought maybe I mattered there."
Deep down, you knew you couldn't handle all of this alone forever. Part of you wondered if you should talk to someone about what was going on, maybe a teacher, a counsellor, or just any adult who might listen. But it was hard not to feel like reaching out would mean you were weak, even though you kept hoping someone, somewhere, could help.
Without thinking, Eddie moved closer. Not enough to overwhelm you. Just enough. "Y/N."
You looked up. His brown eyes were shining. "You do matter."
"No."
"Yeah."
"No, I don't." You shook your head again, your voice almost a whisper. "I never have. Even when people are kind, I just... I don't believe it. Feels like I'm always one mistake away from being unwanted. Like if I'm not useful or perfect, I'll disappear. At home, I'm always told I mess everything up. It's hard not to carry that everywhere."
"Then why am I here?" Silence.
Eddie took your hands. Gentle. Careful. Like you might break. "Because you're important to me." Your breath caught. "You're smart." A squeeze. "You're funny." Another. "You're brave." Tears streamed down your face. "And you're one of the strongest people I've ever met."
Nobody had ever said things like that to you before and meant them. You broke down completely. And Eddie let you. Quietly, he reached out and squeezed your hand, his touch warm and steady. When you finally broke, he gently brushed a tear from your cheek and kept holding on, anchoring you through every trembling breath. He didn't tell you to stop crying. Didn't tell you to calm down. Didn't try to fix everything. He just sat beside you. Holding your hand. Letting you fall apart. For the first time in years, you weren't alone.
The following Hellfire meeting was... different. Very different. Eddie stood at the head of the table with his arms crossed. Looking terrifying. "We're gonna discuss something." Nobody spoke. "You all owe Y/N an apology." The room immediately became uncomfortable.
"Eddie-"
"No." His voice cut through the room. "We don't treat our own like garbage." Nobody argued. Not after seeing the look on his face. One by one, they apologised. Some awkwardly. Some sincerely. Some with obvious guilt. And for the first time, they understood that their jokes hadn't been harmless.
The room was thick with discomfort. One boy glanced down at his hands, face turning red. Another couldn’t meet your eyes. "I’m really sorry, Y/N," one offered quietly, voice tight with shame. A few others nodded or murmured their apologies, their words awkward, but real. In that small moment, guilt settled over the group, heavier than before. They'd hurt someone. Someone who already carried more pain than any of them realised.
After that day, things began to shift. The jokes stopped, replaced by careful silences and, slowly, new attempts at kindness. No one interrupted you during sessions, and when you offered an idea, the others listened. A few meetings later, when you hesitated before picking up the dice, Jeff nudged the tray closer so you would not have to reach as far, shooting you a small, encouraging smile. Another night, Dustin invited you to co-plan part of the next campaign, insisting your ideas would make the adventure more interesting. Even Gareth, usually the first to poke fun, offered you a soda and asked what spells your character might try, listening for the answer. It was not perfect right away. There were awkward pauses and stilted conversations, but week by week, the group’s attitude changed. Laughter returned to the table, not at your expense, but together. Little by little, Hellfire truly started to feel safer for you.
Healing wasn't immediate. It never is. Some days were still hard. Some nights at home were still unbearable. Things at home did not magically get better, and most mornings you still woke up to the same old weight pressing on your chest. But little by little, you started changing the way you faced the day. Once, when your father yelled, you quietly closed your door and turned up your music, letting the noise fade rather than sink into it.
One evening, you wrote out everything you wanted to say to the people who had hurt you, even if you never planned to share it. On your hardest mornings, you made a small promise to yourself just to eat breakfast or open the window. They were small victories, barely visible to anyone else, but they belonged to you. And now, even when the shouting didn't stop, and the loneliness tried to creep back in, you knew you did not have to face any of it completely alone. Maybe one day, you would find the strength to talk to someone about what was happening at home, to ask for real help. For now, it was enough just to hope that things could be different, and to believe that better days might be possible.
But now there was Eddie. The boy who waited outside school to walk you to his van. The boy who saved your favourite seat at Hellfire. The boy who slipped handwritten notes into your textbooks. The boy who reminded you every single day that you were worth loving.
One afternoon, as you stood by your locker staring at a failed math quiz, Eddie appeared beside you. He didn’t flinch at your silence or the way your eyes stung. "Rough day?" he asked gently. You just nodded, unable to answer. Eddie leaned against the lockers, arms crossed, like he had all the time in the world. "You know," he said quietly, "no grade or stupid joke makes you less of a legend. Especially not to me." A small, grateful smile crept onto your face. "Thanks," you managed. Eddie bumped your shoulder with his. "Anytime. And hey, I heard your spell saved us last session. Honestly, the campaign would be a disaster without you." For the first time that day, you felt a little lighter. Maybe even seen.
Another evening after a campaign, you found another note. Folded carefully. Your name is written across the front. You opened it. Inside, in Eddie's messy handwriting, were six simple words:
"You'll always have a place here."
For the first time in a very long time, you believed it. And when you looked up, finding Eddie smiling at you from across the room, you realised something else. Home wasn’t always a place. Sometimes it was a person.
You started to imagine, maybe just a little, a future where things might get better. Maybe one day you would talk to someone about what was happening at home, or find the courage to stand up for yourself in new ways. For now, it was enough to know you were not alone, and that hope was finally something you could carry with you.
For #summer2026, I’m thinking of “The stars are ridiculous out here.” and “I didn’t expect the meteor shower to actually be visible tonight.” for Killian Jones x fem!reader. Whether it’s on the Jolly Roger, the beach, or anywhere else, I can see Killian and the reader both loving watching the stars together. What do you think?
Hey! Thank you for your request and joining in with my event!
It has been written and posted, you will find it here:
💬 0 🔁 0 ❤️ 0 · Requested by Anonymous
Pairing: Killian Jones x Female Reader
Summer Event
Summer Event Masterlist
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The sea was calm tonight. That alone felt like a miracle.
The Jolly Roger drifted gently across the dark waters, her weathered hull creaking softly as she rocked lazily with the tide. Salt clung to every railing and rope, the scent mixing with old varnish and tar from decades at sea. Her sails, patched and faded from countless journeys, hung low in the warm night air. Ghosts of old adventures lingered in the grain of her timbers; the memory of outrunning the Royal Navy off the Cape, the scorch marks from that brush with sea fire near Isla Sombra, and the faded initials carved during the infamous Night of Two Moons all whispered of legendary voyages past. Somewhere below deck, the crew's laughter echoed faintly, mingling with the distant chirp of crickets from a forgotten island that filled the horizon on clear nights. Up on the quarterdeck, beneath lanterns swung from the rigging, everything felt peaceful, as if the ship, too, remembered quieter times between adventures. Just you. And Killian.
You sat beside him on a pile of coiled rope, your shoulder pressed against his. The night air carried the scent of salt and wood, and the endless ocean stretched around you like a sheet of black glass. For a while, neither of you spoke. There was no need. The stars above seemed brighter than usual, scattered across the sky in impossible numbers. You tilted your head back. "The stars are ridiculous out here."
A soft chuckle left Killian's lips. "Aye, they are."
You glanced over. Moonlight painted silver across his features, highlighting the familiar curve of his smile. His dark hair shifted slightly in the breeze. "You sound offended by them."
"I am." His eyes remained fixed on the sky. "I've spent centuries sailing these waters, seen storm after storm and lost more than most could imagine, and they still manage to surprise me." He let out a soft breath, gaze distant. "I remember once, after the Battle of Ironsmith's Reef, when I lost half my crew in a single night. The deck was soaked with rain and blood, the sails torn. I sat alone at the helm while the world felt impossibly empty, and for a moment I thought I'd never find my way forward again. But the clouds parted, and the stars came out, brighter than I'd ever seen. It felt like they were the last thing left in the world. Each night, the stars change ever so slightly; some fade, some burn brighter, but they always remind me that no matter how much is lost or how dark the world feels, there is always something constant to look up to. Back when I had nothing but this ship and the horizon, the stars were my only companions. They guided me home, even when I didn’t know where home was."
He went quiet for a moment, eyes reflecting the scatter of light above. "But lately, I've found something different," he said more softly. "The stars still guide me, but it's not just them anymore. It's you. Sharing these nights with you makes all those years of loneliness feel distant, as if your presence has changed how I see the world. The memories of storms and losses used to weigh me down, but with you beside me, they feel lighter. Sometimes I think that, after everything, the real miracle is not just surviving but finding someone who understands both the darkness and the light. I never thought I would let anyone close enough to see how those memories shaped me, but you make me want to try. You're a new kind of constant, and somehow, that feels even more startling than the stars."
You laughed quietly. "That's kind of sweet."
"Sweet?" he repeated dramatically. "Careful, love. You'll damage my reputation."
"Oh, right. Feared pirate captain. Terrifying."
"Exactly."
His hook nudged your knee. You nudged him right back. The comfortable silence returned. Yet something in the air shifted. The night seemed to hold its breath, as if the sea itself was waiting for something extraordinary. A gentle hush fell over the deck, the laughter below fading into a quiet expectancy. Then suddenly, everything changed. A streak of light flashed overhead. You gasped.
"Killian!" "I saw it."
Another followed. And another. Thin trails of silver crossed the darkness before disappearing. Your eyes widened. "I didn't expect the meteor shower to actually be visible tonight." Neither had he, judging by the expression on his face. For once, Killian Jones looked genuinely awestruck. And that was saying something. The two of you watched as another meteor blazed across the heavens. Then another. And another. The sky seemed alive. You found yourself smiling so hard your cheeks hurt.
"This is incredible."
"Aye." His voice was softer now. When you looked at him, however, you discovered he wasn't watching the stars anymore. He was watching you. Heat immediately rushed to your face.
"What?"
A slow smile appeared. "Nothing."
"Killian." "Nothing, love."
You narrowed your eyes. His grin widened.
"You're staring." "Perhaps."
"Why?"
He leaned back against the railing. For a moment, he seemed to consider his answer. Then his expression softened. "Because I've seen countless nights beneath these skies." Your heart skipped. His words seemed to settle over you, warm and dazzling and unreal. For a second, you couldn't breathe. You wanted to say something clever, but the words tangled in your chest, edged out by a feeling so intense it ached. "I've seen kingdoms rise and fall. Watched entire worlds appear and disappear." His gaze never left yours. The look in his eyes unsettled you in the best way; something steady, something vulnerable, something just for you. "But I don't believe I've ever enjoyed a meteor shower quite this much."
You swallowed. "Oh." "Aye."
The stars suddenly felt very far away. The ocean, too. Everything narrowed until there was only him. His blue eyes. His smile. The warmth of his presence beside you. A meteor streaked across the sky behind him, bright enough to illuminate the deck. Neither of you noticed. Killian reached for your hand. His fingers slid between yours naturally, as though they'd always belonged there. You squeezed gently. Above you, the meteor shower continued. Silver streaks painted the heavens. The sea shimmered beneath them. And for a while, neither of you looked away from each other.
Eventually, you rested your head against his shoulder. His arm wrapped around you immediately. Comfortably. Protectively. Home. The two of you watched the stars together until the night grew late and the meteors became fewer. Yet even then, neither of you moved. Because sometimes the most extraordinary thing in the sky wasn't the shooting stars.
Sometimes it was simply finding someone you wanted to share them with. In that moment, you realised how rare it was to feel truly seen and understood, how much it meant to share the wonders of the world with someone who felt like home.
After everything you and Killian had faced, the storms, the endless nights, the wild uncertainty of adventure, moments like this felt rare and hard-won. A memory flashed across your mind, so vivid it was as if you felt the cold rain on your skin once more. You saw yourself on the open deck, clinging to the splintered wheel as a wall of water crashed over the bow. Lightning split the sky, turning Killian's face silver for a heartbeat as he hauled at the ropes beside you, shouting words you could barely hear above the wind. For one terrifying instant, your hands slipped, and fear jolted through you. But Killian's grip found yours, steady and unyielding, and together, leaning into the storm, you steadied the ship as the worst of the tempest passed. A wild laugh had burst out from both of you then, equal parts relief and defiance, the sound swallowed by the thunder but unforgettable all the same.
You remembered fighting side by side through that hurricane off Skull Point, clinging to the rigging while lightning split the sky, or searching for shelter together when the compass spun hopelessly in the enchanted fog. Each hardship and triumph had pulled you closer, weaving a shared story out of survival and hope. Sitting together under a sky ablaze with stars, it was clear how far you had come, not just as shipmates but as something more. Whatever waited ahead, you knew you would face it side by side, each extraordinary night adding another story to your journey.
Somewhere beyond the calm horizon, new mysteries beckoned, unknown islands whispered in charts yet unplotted, and rumours of danger and treasure alike travelled on the wind. You could almost sense adventure waiting just out of sight, a promise that tomorrow might test your courage again. But tonight, beneath the shimmering storm of meteors, you were ready for whatever the world would bring.
Hi friend! I really love your writing you’re really good, you’re one of my favorite.
Can you do something like reader is Buck twin sister and secretly dating Eddie. Buck caught them having sex and after they have a talk and Eddie admit his feeling for reader and Buck became very exiting to have Eddie brother in law haha.
Can it be little smutty please
And thank you
Hey! Thank you for your request!
It has been written and posted, you will find it here:
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
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Description: After months of hiding their passion, Eddie and Y/N are caught in the act by Buck.
The adrenaline of the 118 was nothing compared to the electric tension that had been building between you and Eddie Diaz for the last six months. Being Buck’s twin sister meant you were always around, but it also meant that dating your brother’s best friend felt like playing with fire. You both had agreed to keep it a secret, not because you were ashamed, but because you wanted something that belonged only to the two of you before the chaos of the "Buck-effect" intervened. That secrecy made every stolen touch in the locker room, and every whispered promise in the dark, feel like a drug.
Today, the drug was hitting hard. You had convinced Buck that you were heading to the store, but instead, you had slipped into Eddie’s bedroom the moment you knew he was home. The door hadn't even fully clicked shut before Eddie had you pinned against it, his hands gripping your hips with a desperation that left you breathless.
"I've been thinking about this since the shift started," Eddie groaned against your neck, his teeth grazing your skin.
"You're so impatient," you gasped, wrapping your legs around his waist and pulling him closer.
Eddie didn't respond with words. He stripped you both with frantic efficiency, his eyes dark with hunger. He lifted you, your back hitting the mattress with a soft thud, and he dove between your thighs. The friction was instant and overwhelming. Eddie entered you in one deep, heavy thrust that made you arch your back and scream his name into the quiet of the house.
He didn't hold back. He fucked you with a raw, rhythmic intensity, his cock filling you completely. Every slam of his hips against your ass sounded like a heartbeat in the silent room. You clung to his shoulders, your nails digging into his skin as he drove deeper and deeper, chasing that peak that always felt like a landslide.
"You're mine," he whispered, his voice a gravelly wreck. "God, you're so fucking mine."
Just as you were both spiralling toward the edge, the front door slammed open.
"Eddie! You will not believe what Chim just-"
The voice stopped abruptly. You and Eddie froze, locked together, your bodies slick with sweat and glistening in the afternoon light. Buck was standing in the doorway, his mouth hanging open, eyes wide as he stared at his twin sister, currently impaled by his best friend.
For five seconds, the only sound was your heavy breathing.
"Oh my god," Buck whispered. "Oh, my god."
Eddie scrambled to pull the sheets over you both, his face flushing a deep crimson. "Buck! I-we-"
"You're fucking my sister!" Buck yelled, though he sounded more shocked than angry. "My twin! My actual twin! Since when?!"
The aftermath was a blur of awkward silence and a very tense conversation in the living room. You sat on the sofa, wrapped in a robe, while Eddie paced the floor, looking like he was preparing for a deposition. Buck sat opposite you, crossing his arms, his expression shifting from betrayal to confusion.
"Why the secret?" Buck asked, his voice softer now. "I thought you guys were... I don't know, just friends. Or maybe flirting. But this? This is a whole thing."
Eddie stopped pacing. He looked at you, and the look in his eyes wasn't one of guilt; it was pure, unadulterated devotion. He stepped toward you, taking your hand in his and squeezing it tightly.
"Because I didn't want to mess this up, Buck," Eddie admitted, his voice steady. "I've never felt this way about anyone. I love her. I'm completely in love with her, and I was terrified that if I told you, or if we went public too fast, the pressure would ruin it. She's the best thing that's happened to me in years."
The room went silent again. You felt a tear prick your eye as you looked up at Eddie. He hadn't said those words out loud yet.
Buck looked at Eddie, then at you, and then back to Eddie. Slowly, a massive, goofy grin began to spread across his face. He jumped up from the couch, nearly knocking over the coffee table.
"I KNEW IT!" Buck shouted, throwing his arms up. "I knew there was a vibe! I mean, I didn't want to say anything because, you know, sister-code and all that, but I totally called it!"
You blinked. "Wait, you're not mad?"
"Mad?" Buck practically vibrated with excitement. He lunged forward, pulling both of you into a suffocatingly tight hug. "Are you kidding? Eddie is the most reliable, honourable, amazing guy I know. I've basically considered him a brother for years, but now it's official! I'm getting a brother-in-law! This is awesome!"
Eddie laughed, the tension finally breaking as he hugged Buck back. "I guess I don't have to hide the good stuff anymore."
Buck pulled back, a mischievous glint in his eye. "Though, for the record, I really didn't need to see the 'good stuff' in such high definition. Please, for the love of everything, lock the door next time."
You laughed, leaning your head against Eddie’s shoulder, feeling the warmth of his skin and the relief of finally being seen. The secret was out, the family was on board, and as Eddie leaned down to kiss you deeply right in front of your brother, you knew the best parts were only just beginning.
The first time your little sibling asked if you and Jasper were dating, you almost dropped your mug. The question came completely out of nowhere during a quiet afternoon at the Cullen house.
You had been sitting on the living room couch, half-listening to Alice explain her latest fashion plans while Jasper sat beside you, reading a book. You felt warm and relaxed, utterly caught up in the easy comfort of the moment, until the peaceful atmosphere was shattered instantly when your sibling looked up from the floor and asked, "So, are you two dating yet?" For a split second, your heartbeat lurched, and a wave of embarrassment flooded your cheeks, nerves tangling in your stomach as you tried to process if you had really heard those words.
The room fell silent. You stared. Alice's grin appeared immediately. Emmett nearly choked laughing. Even Jasper looked visibly caught off guard.
"What?" you asked. Your sibling rolled their eyes as if you were the one being ridiculous.
"You and Jasper."
"We aren't dating."
"Okay." The way they said it made it clear they didn't believe you.
"We're not," you insisted.
Your sibling, who was all of twelve and had a talent for cutting straight to the heart of things, pointed between you and Jasper. "You always sit together."
"We're friends."
"You smile whenever he walks into a room."
You opened your mouth. Then you closed it. Because that one was unfortunately true. The grin spreading across Alice's face wasn't helping. Your sibling looked entirely too pleased with themselves.
"That's what I thought."
Before you could respond, they jumped up and ran into another room. The moment they disappeared, Emmett burst out laughing. You buried your face in your hands. "I am never bringing them here again." Beside you, Jasper let out a quiet chuckle, his shoulders loosening. The sound made your heart skip for reasons you preferred not to examine.
The questions didn’t stop. If anything, they became worse.
A week later, your sibling cornered you in the kitchen while you were making lunch. "Do you like Jasper?"
You sighed. "No."
That answer came a little too quickly. Your sibling narrowed their eyes. "You're lying."
"I'm not."
"You totally are."
You pointed a spoon at them. "I am older than you."
"And?"
"And that means you should listen to me."
Your sibling shrugged. "It doesn't mean you're not in love with Jasper."
You groaned loudly enough to make them laugh. Unfortunately, they weren't the only ones who noticed things. You weren't entirely blind. You saw the way Jasper looked at you sometimes. The soft smiles. The subtle way he always seemed to move closer whenever you entered a room. The way his emotions settled whenever you were near. Sometimes, you caught him watching you with a gaze both cautious and strangely hopeful, as if he was trying to find the right words but didn’t trust his own voice. You wondered if he knew just how much those moments meant, or if maybe he was caught in his own whirlwind of nerves, too. Sometimes you caught the faintest flicker of calm that radiated from him, almost like the steady hush that followed his presence at a tense family gathering.
Jasper's ability, the unique gift he carried from his old Texas days as a newborn and honed by years with the Cullens, let him sense and soothe the emotional currents in any room. Sometimes you caught glimpses of that old Major Whitlock at the edge of his eyes, the haunted look left over from battlefields and decades spent tracking the Volturi’s movements across the South. But around you, his presence always felt gentler, steadier than when he calmed Rosalie after a temper or eased tension before another one of Carlisle’s endless family meetings. It was as if your presence itself made it easy for him to lower his guard and let the peace linger between you, something he never quite managed with anyone else.
And, in a strange way, your sibling seemed to notice all of this, too. Beneath all their relentless questions and teasing, there was a real care driving them. Maybe they admired Jasper, how steady he always was, or maybe they just wanted you to be as happy as you looked when he was around. Their determination to push you together felt less like meddling and more like a protective urge, a way of making sure you got the happiness they believed you deserved.
Jasper had always been difficult to read compared to the rest of his family. But with you, there were moments when his walls slipped. Moments when you caught glimpses of something more. Something that made your pulse race.
One evening, you found yourself alone with Jasper on the back porch. The forest stretched endlessly beyond the clearing, painted gold by the setting sun. For a while, neither of you spoke. The silence between you was comfortable. It always had been. You sat beside him on the porch steps, watching the sky darken.
Then Jasper suddenly said, "Your little sibling keeps asking me if we’re dating."
You immediately groaned. "No."
A small smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. "I'm afraid so."
Your entire face heated. "They did not."
"They absolutely did."
You covered your face with your hands. "This is humiliating."
Jasper laughed softly, and his whole face seemed to brighten. It was a warm, genuine laugh. "I thought it was kind of sweet."
"Of course you did."
His smile lingered, soft and unreadable. For a moment, neither of you looked away. Something shifted in the air. A quiet tension that neither of you acknowledged. Eventually, you looked back toward the trees. You could still feel his gaze.
As the weeks passed, things only became more complicated. Your feelings for Jasper grew stronger. Every smile made your stomach flutter. Every accidental touch left you thinking about it for hours. You tried convincing yourself that nothing would ever happen. Jasper was patient, careful, and often hesitant when it came to matters of the heart. Still, sometimes you caught him watching you when he thought you weren’t looking, his gaze softening just for a heartbeat before he glanced away. There were fleeting moments when his hand would linger a fraction longer than necessary, or when a gentle warmth seemed to settle around you both, as if he wanted to say something but didn’t know how. Once, you felt his fingers brush against yours on the back of the couch. He hesitated, as though he might actually take your hand, an unspoken question flickering in his eyes.
For a moment, it seemed like he would close the distance between you, but then he looked away, tension tightening his shoulders. The silence that followed was heavy with everything neither of you could bring yourselves to say. Even so, you doubted he felt the same way. Until Alice proved otherwise.
One afternoon, you walked into the Cullen house and found Alice sitting alone in the living room. The moment she saw you, she grinned. That was never a good sign.
"What?" you asked cautiously. Alice tilted her head.
"You make Jasper happy." Alice paused, then let out a soft laugh. "You know, I have never seen him linger in a room just for the chance of hearing someone laugh, except with you."
You froze. "What?"
Her smile softened. "I've known Jasper for a very long time."
You listened carefully.
"There were years when he smiled because he thought he should. Years when he felt guilty for every mistake he'd ever made."
A warmth settled in your chest. Alice glanced toward the staircase. "Then you showed up."
You followed her gaze. "And now?"
Alice's smile widened. "Now he smiles because he wants to. She paused, her eyes twinkling with that trademark mischief. You suddenly wondered just how many of those convenient moments you found yourself alone with Jasper were actually Alice’s doing. It would be just like her, slipping out of rooms, inventing errands, and offering knowing looks to both of you at precisely the right moments. You caught the faintest hint of a wink, as if she knew exactly what she was up to all along."
Everything finally came to a head because of your sibling. Again. This time, though, the moment led somewhere neither of you could ignore. You had been walking home together after spending the day with the Cullens. The evening air was cool, and the forest path was quiet.
Your sibling kicked a stone down the trail before suddenly asking, "Can I ask you something?"
You immediately became suspicious. "No."
"That's not how questions work."
You sighed. "What is it?"
They looked entirely too innocent. "When are you going to admit you're in love with Jasper?"
You stopped walking. "Oh, my god."
"What?"
"You never stop."
"Because I'm right."
Before you could respond, your sibling's eyes widened. A grin spread across their face. You turned around. Jasper stood a few feet away. Apparently, he had heard everything. Wonderful. Absolutely wonderful. You considered throwing yourself into the nearest river. Your sibling looked delighted. "I'll give you two some privacy." Then they ran. Actually ran. Leaving you alone. Traitor.
The silence stretched between you. You couldn't bring yourself to meet Jasper's eyes. Then he quietly said your name. You looked up. His expression was nervous, almost hesitant. A rare sight. "I think your sibling may have a point."
Your heart nearly stopped. "What?"
Jasper took a small step closer. Then another. Golden eyes met yours. Steady. Hopeful. "I care about you," he said softly, his voice low and steady. Every word felt carefully chosen. "I care about you more than I ever intended to." Your breath caught. For a moment, neither of you moved. Then Jasper smiled, and the change was unmistakable. A genuine smile that reached his eyes. "I've wanted to ask you out for a long time." You couldn't stop smiling. "Then why didn't you?" A faint blush appeared on his cheeks. Something only possible because he had recently fed.
"I was afraid."
You laughed quietly. "Jasper Hale afraid of asking someone on a date?"
"You'd be surprised."
Your smile widened. "So what happens now?"
His gaze softened. "Now I ask properly."
He gently took your hand. The gesture felt surprisingly intimate. His thumb brushed across your knuckles.
"Would you like to go on a date with me?"
The answer came instantly. "Yes."
Relief flooded his face, and he visibly relaxed. The tension disappeared from his shoulders. For the first time all evening, he looked completely at ease. Completely happy. You stared at him for a moment before smiling. "I've never seen you this happy before." Jasper looked down at your joined hands, then back at you, his expression softening. The look in his eyes made your heart melt. "That's because," he said quietly, "I've never had a reason to be." Then he squeezed your hand.
Somewhere in the distance, your little sibling's triumphant cheering echoed through the trees. They had probably been hiding nearby the whole time. It should have been annoying. A moment later, your sibling’s voice carried through the branches: "Told you so! Next time, just listen to your genius sibling, okay?" You could practically hear the grin in their words. As you and Jasper laughed, you could not help but wonder what other embarrassing questions your sibling would ask in the future, and what new adventures awaited the three of you now that everything had changed. For once, you found yourself looking forward to whatever came next.
Instead, it made you laugh. Neither of you was even surprised. In fact, you shared a look that meant the next round of sibling interference was probably already being planned. Something told you your sibling would never stop finding new ways to meddle, embarrass, or push you into unexpected adventures. It was almost comforting to know you still had plenty of chaos and laughter ahead.
Hi hi!! Can I request a soldier boy x reader? I was listening to Mariah Carey Fantasy, and I was seriously wondering if you can write soldier boy seeing reader as his Fantasy woman. She joins episode 5 as a request from Homelander to find more about V1, she can phase in and out like Kitty Pryde from X-Men. He’s getting his Homelander Bible handed to him and everyone in the rooms here “wowwww so…shiny?” And no one can see reader until she floats up and is next to him while holding and flipping through the “bible.” There Homelander introduces everyone to his little messenger and reader feels eyes on her only to see Ben looking up at her with some reaction. The minute everyone leaves she gives her report and walks to the elevator only to be stopped by Ben and they hit it off. That’s his fantasy woman, he needs to know more about her so if she’s being sent anywhere he says he’ll go with her for backup.
Hey! Thank you so much for your request!
It has been written and posted, you will find it here:
💬 0 🔁 0 ❤️ 0 · The Woman Between Walls · Requested by Anonymous
Pairing: Soldier Boy x Female Reader
Genre: Fluff
Characters: Soldier B
Description: Homelander introduces his newest messenger, a mysterious Supe who can phase through anything and disappear at will. While everyone is distracted by Homelander's absurd new "Bible," Soldier Boy can't take his eyes off the woman floating beside him. The moment he meets her, he knows she's exactly his type, and he's determined to learn more.
The conference room at Vought Tower was unusually crowded. Everyone on the team was there, plus a few executives who clearly wished they were somewhere else. The mood was tense, mostly because Homelander stood at the front, looking far too pleased with himself. That was never a good sign.
Soldier Boy sat at the end of the table, boots up on the polished surface. He looked bored, spinning a pen between his fingers. "Can we get this over with?" he asked. "I've sat through hostage situations that were more entertaining than Vought meetings."
Homelander ignored him. Instead, he lifted a thick leather-bound book into the air with a flourish. The cover gleamed under the conference room lights. Gold letters stood out on the front, and the pages had gold edges. Several people blinked. Nobody spoke.
Finally, one executive cleared his throat. "Wow."
Another nodded uncertainly. "It's... shiny."
"Very shiny."
Soldier Boy stared at the book. Then he burst out laughing. "No way."
Homelander's smile widened. "This," he announced proudly, "is the Homelander Bible."
You couldn't tell if he meant it as a joke or a threat. Deep down, you knew Homelander never did anything without a reason. This book was meant to do more than stroke his ego; it was here to remind everyone who was in charge. The room fell silent. Again.
Soldier Boy laughed even harder. "A Bible?"
"It's a collection of my teachings."
"Jesus Christ."
"Exactly."
The Deep covered his face. Someone at the far end of the table looked seconds away from quitting. Homelander held the book up for another moment, then stopped in the middle of his gesture.
Suddenly, his hand was empty. The room froze. The Bible was floating. Several inches above Homelander's hand. Nobody moved. Nobody breathed. The book drifted higher. The pages started turning on their own. Security immediately reached for weapons.
"What the hell-"
"Who's doing that?"
Then you appeared beside the floating book, as if you had always been there. You hovered in the air, looking completely at ease. Rumour had it you had been recruited straight out of some top-secret government program, and even Vought's senior teams only spoke your name in low voices. Some whispered you were the only person who had ever survived that infamous blackout in Minsk, but nobody quite agreed how. You crossed your legs as if sitting in an invisible chair. One hand held the book while the other flipped through its pages. You looked completely unimpressed.
"Page twenty-three has a typo."
The room erupted. Several people jumped. One executive nearly fell out of his chair.
Homelander sighed dramatically. "Oh, for God's sake."
You turned another page. "This chapter is literally just pictures of you."
"They're inspirational."
"There are twelve pages." "They're very inspirational."
You looked unconvinced. Soldier Boy couldn't stop staring. At first, it was because you had appeared out of thin air. Then it turned into something else. You weren't intimidated. You weren't nervous. You weren't desperately trying to impress Homelander like most people in the building. You looked relaxed. Confident. Comfortable. Like you belonged there.
It was clear that none of these people could make you feel small. That alone caught his attention. Then you smiled at another ridiculous page, and Soldier Boy felt something change inside him. Well. Shit. There she was. The woman he’d imagined for decades and never thought he’d actually meet.
Homelander finally gestured toward you. "This is my messenger."
You rolled your eyes. "Your employee.”
"My trusted messenger."
You shut the book. "I'm literally on payroll."
A few people laughed. Even Soldier Boy grinned. You were funny. That wasn’t helping at all.
As the meeting continued, Soldier Boy paid almost no attention to what Homelander was saying. Instead, he watched you. Whenever someone asked a question, you answered without hesitation. Whenever Homelander exaggerated something, you corrected him without fear. You floated beside him, occasionally pacing halfway across the conference table because you seemed bored.
Every time Soldier Boy looked away, he looked back. He wasn't subtle about it either. At one point, your eyes met his. You caught him staring. Instead of looking embarrassed, he simply smirked. You raised an eyebrow. His grin widened.
Eventually, the meeting ended. People hurried toward the exits. Nobody wanted to spend more time around Homelander than necessary. Within minutes, only you and Homelander remained in the conference room. Soldier Boy lingered outside the doorway. Not because he was interested in Homelander. Absolutely not. He was interested in you. There was a difference. From outside, he heard your voice as you delivered your report.
"The V1 shipments have been moved again."
Homelander leaned against the table. "Can you track them?"
You nodded. "I can get inside places nobody else can."
"Good."
You handed him a tablet. "I'll have more information tomorrow."
Homelander smiled. "You're my favourite."
You immediately replied, "Pretty sure you've said that to half the building."
"Only the talented half."
You laughed softly. Soldier Boy found himself smiling. Then he stopped, because smiling felt weird.
A few minutes later, you stepped into an elevator. The doors began closing. A hand suddenly shot between them. The doors slid open again. Soldier Boy stepped inside. You looked up.
"Really?" "What?"
"You were waiting outside the room." "I was passing through."
"You were standing there for ten minutes." "Traffic."
You laughed. Soldier Boy felt pretty pleased with himself. The elevator started descending. For a few moments, neither of you spoke. Then he glanced sideways.
"So."
You folded your arms. "So."
"You're the ghost girl."
You looked offended. "Ghost girl?"
"I couldn't see you." "That's generally how invisibility works."
"You float too." "I phase."
"Still counts."
You shook your head. "No, it doesn't."
"Pretty sure it does." "It absolutely doesn't."
Soldier Boy laughed. You were impossible. He liked that.
"What exactly can you do?" he asked.
You shrugged. "I can phase through solid matter," you said. "Walls, doors, floors. Even steel. I can slip through almost anything if I concentrate. Can't do it forever, though, too tiring. And I can't take anyone with me, just myself. Also, if I pass through anything with a high electric current, my hair stands on end for about an hour. Kind of annoying, honestly." You paused for a second, then added, "Once, I forgot to check before stepping through the security doors downstairs. Ended up with my hair looking like I'd been electrocuted for the rest of the day. Security kept calling me 'Static.' Trust me, you only make that mistake once."
"What about people?"
You looked at him. "Why would I phase through people?"
He shrugged. "Just curious."
"That sounds concerning." "You've met me."
"Fair point."
The elevator reached the next floor, but neither of you left. Neither of you mentioned it.
"You know," Soldier Boy said, "most people around here act terrified."
"Of Homelander?" "Of everyone."
You shrugged. "I'm hard to intimidate."
"I noticed." "And?"
His gaze met yours. "And I like it."
For the first time since he got in the elevator, you seemed a little caught off guard. Only slightly. But it was enough for him to notice. A small smile tugged at your lips.
"That's your pickup line?" "No."
"Good." "I haven't started yet." You laughed. Again. He couldn’t get that laugh out of his head.
When the elevator finally reached the lobby, you stepped out. Soldier Boy followed immediately. You looked over your shoulder. "Why are you following me?"
"I'm not." "You absolutely are."
"I'm providing security."
You stared. He stared back. Neither of you believed that.
"Security?" "Yep."
"I'm a superhuman who can walk through walls." "Dangerous walls."
You rolled your eyes. Soldier Boy grinned. "I'm heading to the Research Division," you said. "Cool."
"To investigate leads." Cool."
"You don't need to come." "I know."
You stopped walking. "Then why are you coming?"
Soldier Boy looked completely serious. Because for the first time in ages, someone had really caught his attention. Someone smart. Confident. Funny. Someone who wasn't afraid of him. Someone who didn't care about his reputation. Someone who could walk through walls and still leave him wanting more. So he simply shrugged. "Because I want to." For a moment, you stared at him. Then you laughed softly and shook your head. "You're impossible." His grin returned instantly. "Yeah." Together, you continued down the hallway.
For the first time since waking up after decades in captivity, Soldier Boy actually looked forward to what might happen next. Something told him this was only the beginning, that crossing paths with you would lead to complications, surprises, and maybe trouble he couldn't even imagine yet. But lately, whispers of sabotage deep inside Vought's Research Division kept circulating, sharp and persistent as a paper cut. Earlier that morning, he had opened his locker and found a black chess piece, a knight, polished and heavy, with his name carved neatly into its base. It sat at the back of his locker, daring him to pick it up. Through the day, the image kept flashing in his mind, the piece silently waiting for its move. Whatever was coming, he had a feeling it would be worth it.
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Being Buck’s twin sister came with a lot. An endless supply of chaos, for one. Unexpected adventures, for another. And, apparently, an embarrassingly obvious crush on Eddie Diaz. That started back in rookie training, the first time Eddie grinned at you after you both survived the obstacle course—mud everywhere, his laughter making everything feel lighter. Not that anyone was supposed to know about that. Especially not Eddie.
“Pass me the wrench?”
You looked up from the toolbox beside the firetruck and nearly forgot how words worked. Eddie stood in front of you with his sleeves rolled up. Sunlight came through the station bay doors and lit him up, almost like he was in some kind of ridiculously attractive commercial. You handed him the wrench with a sigh.
“You look unfairly good in sunlight. It’s honestly irritating.”
His eyebrows lifted. “That’s a weird thing to say to a coworker.”
“You being annoyingly handsome is a weird thing to do to a coworker.”
From across the bay, Buck nearly dropped the clipboard he was holding.
“Oh my God,” he yelled. “We’re saying it out loud now?”
You immediately threw a rag at him. Eddie laughed. And somehow that was worse. Because every time he laughed, your crush got a little harder to ignore.
Three months later, you ended up stuck in a car with him. The road trip had started as a simple idea, just two friends planning a weekend getaway together after a string of long shifts, something Buck was supposed to come on to. At first, the trip sounded romantic. One minute, it was a normal plan. The next, everything went off the rails.
Which sounded romantic in theory. But in reality, you had a broken GPS, bad cell service, and way too much empty highway.
“This road trip was supposed to take six hours,” you groaned, staring at the map spread across your lap.
Eddie kept both hands on the steering wheel. “We’ll figure it out.”
“We’ve been lost for two days.”
“We’re not lost.”
“Eddie.”
“We’re geographically improvising.”
You stared at him. He stared at the road.
“You made that up.”
“Maybe.”
The trip had started innocently enough. A weekend camping excursion with Christopher. Then Christopher had been invited to stay with his grandparents. Then Buck had bailed at the last second. That meant it was just you and Eddie on a road trip that neither of you wanted to cancel. Maybe it was the promise of adventure, or maybe it was a little more complicated than that. Sure, a weekend away sounded like fun, but it was also a chance to linger in each other's company without anyone else around. There was something unspoken beneath every reason you came up with, a kind of hopefulness that maybe this trip would make those undercurrents easier to understand. Sometimes you caught Eddie glancing at you when he thought you were not looking, a flicker of something expectant in his eyes, as if he was waiting for the right moment to say something more. Maybe he felt it too, that quiet anticipation that made both of you eager to see what might come from getting lost together. Both of you found reasons to keep the plan alive, even as the real reason sat unspoken between you, warm and persistent.
Somewhere between the first gas station and the fifth wrong turn, things stopped feeling awkward. You talked about everything. His time in the army. Your childhood with Buck. Christopher. Fears. Dreams. Things neither of you usually shared. At first, saying them out loud felt risky, like you were peeling back layers you both tried to keep hidden. But as the words found their way between you, it was strangely freeing. Something about being lost together made it easier to let your guard down and, for the first time, you felt seen in a way that was both terrifying and comforting.
By sunset, the town appeared ahead of you. One main street. A diner. A motel. There was a population sign that looked older than both of you.
“Perfect,” you said.
Eddie parked outside the motel. “I told you we’d find somewhere.”
“You mean eventually.”
“You doubted me.” “I was right to.” He smiled. And right away, your heart gave you away.
The next morning, you realised the town wasn’t so bad. By the afternoon, it even felt surprisingly nice. There was a small lake. A hiking trail. There was a bakery selling cinnamon rolls as big as your face. By afternoon, you and Eddie sat on a weathered dock overlooking the water.
The town was quiet. Peaceful. It was beautiful in a way neither of you had expected. You skipped a stone across the lake. Three hops. Not bad. Eddie went six. Show-off.
“You know,” you said, “this place isn’t as boring as I thought.”
He glanced toward the shoreline. “I grew up near a town like this.”
“Really?” “Yeah.”
For a moment, his expression softened. “I always thought I wanted to leave and never come back.”
“And now?”
He shrugged. “Now I think maybe I just needed the right people around.”
His words hung in the air between you. Warm. Dangerous. Honest. Your pulse sped up. Then, suddenly, the air felt different. The look in his eyes felt different. Everything felt different.
“Eddie…”
Suddenly, everything felt different. Eddie looked at you. And whatever wall had existed between you for years finally gave way. Slowly. Then all at once. His smile appeared first. Small. Nervous. Rare.
“You know,” he said quietly, “you’ve spent this entire trip complaining about this town.”
“I have not.”
“You absolutely have.”
“Okay, maybe a little.”
He laughed. Then his gaze softened.
“You said this town was boring, but I think you were the interesting part.”
Your breath caught. Neither of you moved. The lake lapped gently against the dock. Birds chirped somewhere overhead. And suddenly, all those years of friendship felt small compared to this moment.
“Eddie…”
“I’ve wanted to say that for a long time.”
Your heart nearly stopped. “A long time?” He nodded. “A really long time.” You laughed softly. Because, of course, the universe would wait until you were stranded here to do this.
“You know,” you said, stepping closer, “Buck is going to be unbearable when he finds out.” You could almost picture him smirking already, plotting some over-the-top celebration or promising to interrogate Eddie the next time he had the chance. "He's never going to let us forget this," you added, unable to hold back a smile at the thought. Eddie groaned. “Please don’t remind me.”
“He’ll never let us live it down.”
“Nope.”
“He’s probably already suspicious.”
“Definitely.”
You smiled. “So we’re doomed.”
“Looks like it.”
For a moment, neither of you said anything. You could hear your own heartbeat drumming in your ears, your breath shallow and quick. Your fingers tingled, caught somewhere between reaching for him and pulling away, nerves twisting up in your stomach until it was almost unbearable. Then Eddie reached for your hand, his fingers sliding against yours, warm and steady, as if it was the most natural thing, like he had always belonged there. The electrifying contact sent a thrill through you so sharp you nearly forgot to breathe. Maybe he had always belonged there. And when he kissed you, gentle and careful and worth every wrong turn, your thoughts scattered all at once. The brush of his lips was warm against yours, and you felt the sun-heated wood of the dock beneath your hands, the soft breeze lifting fine hairs at the back of your neck, the taste of summer and the sweetness of yes rushing through you. For a split second, it felt like a dam broke inside you, every secret wish and quiet hope suddenly real, the relief surging through you so bright you almost laughed. Your whole body buzzed, heart racing and lips tingling, dizzy with the sudden rightness of it all.
Nothing else existed in the moment but the rush of closeness, his hand gentle at your waist, and you couldn’t regret getting lost. Not even for a second. Because sometimes the best things happened when the map stopped making sense. And maybe, just maybe, you’d been finding your way to each other all along.
The night air bit at your skin as you sat beside the crackling bonfire with Eddie. Stars blanketed the sky above the clearing where your small group had set up camp. Eddie’s broad shoulders relaxed as he poked at the logs with a stick, sending sparks upward. His dark eyes flicked toward you, warm despite the chill.
You tugged your jacket tighter. “It’s getting colder out here.”
Eddie smiled, that soft, lopsided grin that always made your stomach flip. “The bonfire’s dying. Scoot closer before we both freeze.”
You slid across the log until your thigh pressed against his. Heat radiated from him immediately. His arm draped around your shoulders, pulling you into his side. You leaned in, breathing in the mix of woodsmoke and his cologne.
His fingers traced lazy circles on your arm. Conversation faded into comfortable silence, broken only by the pop of embers. You tilted your head up. Eddie met your gaze, then leaned down. His lips brushed yours, gentle at first, then deeper, hungrier. Your hand slid up his chest, feeling the solid muscle beneath his shirt.
Eddie stood and offered his hand. “Come on. Let’s get out of the wind.”
You followed him to the tent a few yards away. Inside, the space felt smaller, more intimate. He zipped the flap shut and turned to you. His mouth found yours again as his hands worked your jacket off your shoulders. You tugged at his shirt, pulling it over his head. His skin was hot against your palms.
Clothes came off in a rush: your top, his jeans, your pants, until you both knelt on the sleeping bag in nothing but underwear. Eddie’s hands roamed, cupping your breasts, thumbs circling your nipples until they hardened. You moaned softly into his kiss.
He lay you back and hooked his fingers into your panties, sliding them down your legs. His own boxers followed. His cock stood thick and hard, the tip already glistening. You reached for him, wrapping your fingers around the shaft and stroking slowly.
Eddie groaned and settled between your thighs. He kissed down your neck, across your collarbone, then lower, sucking one nipple into his mouth while his fingers found your pussy. He rubbed your clit in slow circles, then slid two fingers inside you. You arched, hips rolling against his hand as he pumped them deeper, curling to hit that sensitive spot inside.
“Eddie,” you breathed, voice shaky.
He withdrew his fingers and lined his cock up with your entrance. With one smooth thrust, he buried himself inside you. You gasped at the stretch, legs wrapping around his waist. He started moving; deep, steady strokes that dragged along your inner walls. Each thrust pushed a wet sound from your pussy as he filled you completely.
Your hands gripped his back, nails dragging lightly over muscle. Eddie kissed you hard, tongues sliding together as he fucked you. The pace quickened. Skin slapped against skin. Your pussy clenched around him with every thrust, slick coating his shaft.
He pulled out suddenly and flipped you onto your stomach. You rose onto your hands and knees. Eddie gripped your hips and drove back in, harder now. One hand reached around to rub your clit again while the other held you steady. He pounded into you, balls slapping against your skin with every thrust. Your breasts swayed beneath you.
You came first: body shaking, walls pulsing around his cock as wetness gushed around him. Eddie followed seconds later, burying himself deep as he spilt inside you. Warm cum flooded your core in thick spurts. He stayed there, breathing hard against your back, then eased out and pulled you into his arms.
You lay tangled together, his fingers tracing your spine while his cum slowly leaked from your pussy. Outside the tent, the fire had dwindled to glowing coals. Inside, heat lingered between your bodies.
Eddie kissed your temple. “Still cold?” You smiled against his chest. “Not even a little.”
is there gonna be a part 3 of “his secret family” ?? cause i would like to see what homelander does to the baby and the mom, would like to know what the baby’s power is, and how would soldier boy reac!! maybe more than 1 more part 😅😅
sorry if i’m asking much, i just love the ideas and how you write for soldier boy 💞💐
Hey! Thank you for your request!
It has been written and posted, you will find it here:
💬 0 🔁 0 ❤️ 0 · The One Thing He Couldn't Take · Requested by @riverjane-d
Pairing: Soldier Boy (Ben) x Female Reader
Genre: Fluff, Angst
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Description: Years after escaping and building a peaceful life with Soldier Boy, Y/N thinks the past is finally behind her. But when Homelander returns and threatens the family Ben fought so hard to protect, their child's hidden abilities awaken for the very first time.
A/N: Part 3 to His Son's Heart, His Wife's Ring and The Life He Chose.
The first sign that something is wrong is the silence. The beach is usually noisy. The crashing waves. The distant cries of seagulls. Your child's laughter as they race across the shoreline with a bucket clutched in their tiny hands. But this afternoon, everything feels strangely still.
You sit under a large umbrella, reading a book. You keep one eye on your child and the other on the path back to your house. Ben had gone into town earlier that morning. For a moment, you wonder if the silence feels heavier because he isn't here. That probably means he'll be back late. Again.
Your child is currently attempting to build what they insist is a castle. You smile as your child explains their big plans to a confused crab. Then the wind changes. A chill runs down your spine. Immediately. Instinctively. You look up. And your heart stops. Someone is standing near the water. Watching. Waiting.
For a moment, you think it must be a stranger. A tourist. A local. Anyone else. But then the way he stands, the subtle tension in his posture, tugs at memories you wish you could forget. The figure steps forward, and you recognise him. The blond hair. The blue suit. The same smile that once promised everything and then ruined you. He smiles, but it never quite reaches his eyes. Homelander.
Years have passed. Yet seeing him again feels just like it did all those years ago. It's like a nightmare you've tried to forget for years. Your pulse begins racing. Your child notices your expression immediately. "Mom?" You stand so quickly that your chair falls backwards. "Come here." Your urgent tone makes them freeze. Then they start running toward you. Homelander watches the entire thing unfold. His expression is unreadable. Almost sad. Almost.
"You look happy." The sound of his voice makes your stomach twist.
"What are you doing here?"
His gaze drifts toward your child. The child he once viewed as proof that he had lost you forever. You see a flicker of loss there, mingled with envy, the raw ache of regret cracking through his usual composure. Something dark flashes across his face; longing and resentment at war behind his eyes. For a moment, he seems less like a villain and more like someone searching for a life that never happened. "I wanted to see."
Your entire body tenses. "See what?"
His eyes return to yours. "What my life would've looked like."
The words are quiet. Too quiet. Your child reaches your side and immediately wraps both arms around your leg. You place yourself between them and Homelander without thinking. Protective. Instinctive. A mother's response. Homelander notices. Of course he does. Somehow, that seems to hurt him even more.
"They have your eyes."
You say nothing. His attention shifts to your wedding ring. The same ring you've worn for years. The same ring that started everything. For a moment, genuine grief appears on his face. Then it vanishes. Replaced by bitterness.
"You chose him."
You stare at him. "Yes." You answer without hesitation. You chose Ben. Every single day.
Homelander's jaw tightens. And suddenly you realise something. He never moved on. All these years. All this time. And he never let go. The realisation terrifies you. Not violently. Not yet. But it's enough for your child to notice.
"Mom?"
You slowly back away. "Don't." Homelander closes his eyes. For a brief moment, he almost looks exhausted. "I just wanted to talk." Then something cracks. Maybe it's seeing your fear. Maybe it's seeing the child. Maybe it's remembering everything he lost. Whatever it is, the fragile control disappears. The sand beneath his feet explodes outward. Your child screams. You immediately pull them behind you.
"Homelander!"
His eyes glow red. "I would've loved you." His words come out broken. Angry. Desperate. "I would've given you everything."
"You don't get to decide that!"
The ocean itself seems to tremble. Then it happens. A burst of heat vision shoots past you. Not directly at you. Not directly at your child. But close enough. Far too close. The blast strikes the sand only a few feet away. The explosion sends both of you tumbling backwards. Your shoulder slams against the ground. Pain shoots through your arm. Your child cries out. And something changes. The world suddenly becomes very bright.
For a split second, you remember the small things, the lightbulb in your child's room flickering when they were upset, the way metal objects sometimes quivered when they laughed, the strange tug in the air around them during thunderstorms. Sometimes you caught the scent of ozone, sharp and unmistakable, clinging to their skin, and you always wondered why storms seemed to stir something inside them. Lately, you had noticed they grew restless during thunderstorms, their eyes flashing just a little too bright whenever lightning struck nearby. There were questions you never had the courage to ask: about bloodlines, about what truly ran in their veins. Ben would sometimes half-joke about "not all power coming from the same bottle," and Homelander's name was never far from those late-night anxieties. Little things that never made sense until now.
The air around your child begins glowing. Not red. Not gold. A brilliant blue-white light. Pure energy. The beach erupts. A shockwave explodes outward from your child. The ocean rises. The sand lifts into the air. The sky itself seems to crack with power. Homelander is thrown backwards. Violently. His expression shifts from anger to shock. For the first time since arriving, he looks afraid.
Your child stares at their own hands. Terrified. Confused. The glowing energy dances across their skin like lightning. "Mom?" Your heart breaks. They're scared. They're just a child. A child who doesn't understand what's happening. Then a familiar voice echoes across the beach. "Get away from my family."
Every head turns. Ben. He's standing near the dunes. Frozen. Because he sees everything. You. Injured. His child crying. Homelander standing nearby. And energy pouring from the small hands of the child he loves more than life itself. The silence that follows feels worse than shouting. Ben's gaze settles on the scrape across your cheek. Then your child. Then Homelander. Something changes inside him. Not anger. Not exactly. Something colder. Something far more dangerous. For years, Ben fought for glory. For revenge. For survival. This is different. This is personal. His voice becomes terrifyingly calm. "What happened?"
Your child immediately runs toward him. Relief and panic leap in their chest. For a moment, the fear of being seen, of not understanding the bright, surging energy in their own hands, mixes with a desperate need for comfort. The moment Ben catches them, the energy begins to settle. They bury their face in his shoulder. Still crying. Still frightened. Confused thoughts swirl inside: Did I make this happen? Am I the reason Mom got hurt? "He was trying to hurt Mom." The words come out loud, but inside, your child clings to Ben like he is the only anchor they have left in a world that suddenly feels too big and dangerous. The entire beach goes silent. Ben slowly looks up. Toward Homelander. The look on his face makes your blood run cold. Because there was no hesitation. No conflict. No lingering attachment. No trace of the complicated father-son relationship that once existed. Only certainty. Only fury. Only love. The kind of love that makes people dangerous.
Homelander sees it too. For the first time, he takes a step backwards. Ben's arm tightens protectively around your child. His other hand reaches for yours. Making sure you're safe. Making sure you're real. Then he looks at the family standing beside him. His wife. His child. His entire world. And finally understands something.
He spent most of his life chasing power. But power was never the thing that mattered. This was. You were. And anyone who threatened that would find out just how far Soldier Boy would go to protect the people he loves. Especially now that it seemed his child had inherited something even more frightening than strength. The surge of raw, uncontrollable energy: glowing, untamed, and powerful in ways neither human nor supe had ever shown before, was something entirely new.
For the first time, the world wasn't looking at Soldier Boy. It was looking at the next generation. And judging by the fear in Homelander's eyes, even he knew they had awakened something extraordinary. But as the wind carried away the last echoes of the confrontation, it was clear that the world would not stay quiet for long. Whatever power had emerged on this beach would not go unnoticed. In the distance, within boardrooms filled with shadowy executives, Vought's analysts were already replaying blurred security footage.
A sharp-eyed woman with a scar twisting down her jaw, Madelyn Stillwell's successor at Vought, leaned forward, already dialling a number that would reach the mysterious Project Paragon. In darkened cells, old enemies stirred at the mention of a new name. Even Edgar, exiled from power but not influence, allowed himself a cold smile as he read the first decrypted reports. The Crimson Countess, still nursing old wounds and older grudges, began to assemble her allies. Even the rumours whispered in Supe circles had begun to circle back to this family. Somewhere out there, others were already watching, and new threats, some with corporate agendas, some fueled by revenge, and some bearing names like Black Noir and Payback, were beginning to stir.
Hello. For #summer2026, what would you think of “This festival would be more fun if you stopped trying to win every game.” for Pietro Maximoff? He just strikes me as the fun, competitive type, especially with his speed 😆
Hey! Thank you for your request and for joining in with my event!
It has been written and posted, you will find it here:
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Pairing: Pietro Maximoff x Reader
Summer Event
Summer Event Masterlist
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