#Coming back from the dead and having to go through everything that he did

[satureja13]

This dream again. Where he dreamt of being back with Jonathan. Where his life was light and easy and exciting. Where he had nothing to worry about because Jonathan was in charge and took care of him. Where he felt carefree and loved and never wanted to wake up again. These dreams of Jonathan carried him through all his traumatic events and hard times. Helped him to stay strong for Jack when they'd been kidnapped and abused. And through his struggles of being responsible for the others as their leader. All the troubles they had to face.

Sai looked around. This wasn't a dream! Jonathan shot at him! Was he dead? At least it seems he'd been a good boy after all - when he was allowed to spend his afterlife together with Jonathan.

Jonathan stirred: "You're awake." Jonathan carefully filled in Sai about everything that had happened since they'd been separated on that fateful night. And about everything about Tiny Can they'd already discussed while Sai was sleeping. This all was a lot for Sai to take in. And his heart was heavy how cruel fate had been to tear them apart. His curiosity won though. He could drown in his sadness later. Saiwa: "So you think Tiny Can wanted us to meet you here? Why?" Jonathan: "Let's go and have breakfast and meet the others. We waited for you to wake up so we can discuss this together and figure out what this is all about, hm?" Sai: "How am I supposed to face them? We betrayed each other. I don't think there is a way back for us. And I'm so tired. All these years drained me. You know me, I'm not made for a life like this."

True. Jonathan knew Sai for all his life. And for all those 17 years they'd spent together, he was the one who cared for Sai, made all decisions and set the direction - and Sai was happy to follow and just care about his stuff. He must have suffered a lot all these years being responsible and in charge for himself and 5 others. 5 others that were just as hurt and damaged as Sai. How could the Resistance ask this of him?

Jonathan: "I'm here for you now. Let's just see what Tiny Can wants from us. And after we solved this, you can decide if you want to come with me. And live the life you'd left the elven realm for. I'll make it happen, I promise."

Meanwhile in the other room, the others aren't eager to meet Sai either. They know how much he struggled to be their leader, even though they helped him to carry the burden. And even though Sai tried so hard to overcome his struggles. But in the end they had to learn it wasn't something Sai could handle. Jeb: "Lets face it. When this is over, we need a break. This is almost three years us fighting nonstop. And we achieved enough. They can't ask any more of us when it means we are going to waste. Sai can go with Jonathan, I will go back home to Francine (his grandmother) and you - Jack and Kiyoshi and Ji Ho and Vlad - deserve to spend some time together before you fall apart like Sai and me. This isn't worth it - us giving up on everything. We deserve to have a life outside of our duties. And we outdid ourselves already. Just look how much of a help the Therapy Game alone is - for all the lost creatures out there. And all the other victories we earned by defeating the Council. We're not even dependant to work for the Resistance, we all can make a living from our side jobs." Kiyoshi: "Let's think about this later before we make any decisions. Jonathan just texted. Let's meet him and see what's going on here." The others are relieved. As tempting as it sounds to take a break and spend time alone with their loved ones, they don't want to be apart from each other. And Vlad does still not feel comfortable - all alone with Ji Ho ö.ö'

They just finished setting the table when Jonathan and Sai arrived. Ji Ho: "Look how beautiful he looks." Even though Sai seemed a bit tense to meet them after they betrayed each other and Sai tried to kill Tiny Can, Ji Ho never saw him this 'soft'. Jonathan's presence did something to him. Something good. And despite Jeb's words of wisdom a few minutes before, his heart skipped a beat. How was he supposed to give up on Saiwa? But it had to be. The urge to see him happy - and living the life he sacrificed so much for - outweighed his selfish need to be with him. Barely. But he loves him too much to just think of himself. So he tried to remain strong.

This wasn't the time for thoughts like this anyway. Time to focus on their last mission before they'd each went their separate ways. Jonathan started with the facts: "So what we know is that Tiny Can here contains coding that is mine, but I'm not capable of this kind of programming - yet. Many of these functions are still in my development and others I only barely thought about. So seeing this already accomplished is a bit much to wrap my head around. And on top of all that, you told me that there was a message from a future Jeb and Jack and there was a Professor Callahan who predicted the meteorite crash a hundred years ago. Which was quite weird since none of the astronomers confired ot nor had any sightings that this would happen..." Jack: "Does that mean...?" Jonathan: "This is the only conclusion." Kiyoshi: "For what?"

Jonathan: "I think Tiny Can is a kind of - eh ... time traveler. I will have built Tiny Can in the future and he returned. Though, we need to find out why. Since he broke, he does not communicate anymore. But he wanted us to meet here and Future Jeb urged you to stay together. So I fear you'll have to get along to face this final task together." Sai: "I will participate if I need to, but I can't be the leader anymore." Kiyoshi: "You won't have to." Jack: "We haven't forgotten that you tried to kill Tiny Can. You're disqualified anyway."

Jonathan: "Let's listen to Tiny Can's new message. When I repaired him, I saw short glimpses of Future Jack and Jeb. But he refused to show me more." That was Tiny Can's cue. He played the message. Future Jack: "Come on Tiny. Just one more message. They need to get them out of there. Tell them just to open that last save and..." And then there was only white noise and the message flickered and faded.

Saiwa hissed: "I knew it! There is someone trapped in the Therapy Game and suffering! We never should have started this damn game! And now we can't stop it anymore!" Jonathan: "That's not fair, Sai. This is the first known issue. Don't let it taint the fact that he already helped so many."

Vlad: "This must have happened before Tiny Can made the modifications and spread it all over the galaxy. From when is that save file?" Jonathan: "20th July 2024." Jack: "Gods. That was the day we got kicked out and Ji Ho almost died. The day Tiny Can saved us and broke." Kiyoshi: "Then it's not even Tiny Can's fault - it's ours..." Jonathan: "Tiny Can rescuing you must have caused an interference and someone must have been caught in there before Tiny Can could log everyone out. This might be the reason he wanted us all together here. Some of you need to log in again and the others need to make sure to keep the game stable and monitor. To get you out of there, should something go wrong. But Sai and I going to find out anything I can about that save file so we can prepare before you log in again. It might be corrupted." Kiyoshi: "There is an other issue. We need the meteorites to set the game up. We shouldn't use the network - for safety reasons." Saiwa moaned. Nothing is easy in this world. And his new carefree life with Jonathan must wait...

'Darkness on the edge Shadows where I stand I search for the time On a watch with no hands I want to see you clearly Come closer than this But all I remember Are the dreams in the mist

These dreams go on when I close my eyes Every second of the night I live another life These dreams that sleep when it's cold outside Every moment I'm awake the further I'm away'

Heart - These Dreams

Outtakes

Lenny waiting for his breakfast

From the Beginning 🔱 Underwater Love 🔱 Latest

Current Chapter 'Goats in Space': starts ▶️ here Last Chapter: 'Piglets in Space' from the beginning ▶️ here

📚 Previous Chapters: Chapters: 1-6 ~ 7-12 ~ 13-16 ~ 23-29

[whimsy-sturns]

Between Mercy and Hunger

vampire.ᐟreader x mortician.ᐟmatt - the second chapter

warnings: religious imagery. usage of urban fantasy. no use of y/n. mentions of death, blood, etc. slight emotional vulnerability. light banter. fluff if you squint realllllly hard. ik this chapter is short n sweet but let the pressure build. trust me 🌙

wc: 2k

divider credits to: @/bernardsbendystraws, @/junabuggy

Two weeks. Two weeks since the incident that happened at the morgue. Since everything changed for Matt. He’s tried to go back to his life, but something is… off. He sleeps poorly, wakes up disoriented, and feels a strange, gnawing sensation deep inside him. Like he’s missing something.

He tells himself it’s just his mind playing tricks, but deep down, he knows–you did something to him.

Matt doesn’t try to banish you. He doesn’t spend hours poring over ancient texts or calling priests for exorcisms.

He tells himself it’s because he needs closure. Because ignoring it won’t make it go away. Because after that night in the morgue, after seeing you sit up from the slab like some twisted resurrection, there is no going back to how things were.

But if he was truly desperate to rid himself of you, wouldn’t he have tried harder? Wouldn’t he have thrown himself at the feet of the church, begging for salvation?

Instead, he goes about his life as if waiting.

Waiting for the pull in his chest when he steps into the dark. 

Waiting for the feeling of unseen eyes watching from just beyond the light.

Waiting for you.

Maybe it’s because he’s always been drawn to death. Maybe it’s because for years, he’s been speaking to the dead, tending to them, existing in that quiet space between life and after. You’re not the first cold body he’s touched–but you’re the first that ever touched him back.

So no, he doesn’t try to banish you. Because the moment he does, he has to confront the truth.

That you were never just a nightmare.

That he’s not sure he wants to be saved.

The lake is silent. A forgotten place, surrounded by towering trees that seem to press inward, guarding its secrets. The water is still, dark as ink, reflecting only the silver light through the moon.

Matt doesn’t remember deciding to come here. He just… did. Like something was pulling him. 

He tells himself it's for closure. To put this whole nightmare behind him. But deep down, he knows that’s a lie.

And then, he sees you.

Standing at the water’s edge, bathed in moonlight, you’re back to him. Still. Almost serene. Like you belong there, part of the night itself. He should be afraid. But instead, he just watches.

“So this is what you do?” His voice breaks the silence, dry and sharp. “Linger in the dark, waiting for someone to stumble into your trap?”

You don’t turn immediately. You let the silence stretch, let him stew in his own uncertainty before you finally speak.

“You came to me, Matthew.” Your voice is softer than before–less theatrical, less cruel. Just matter-of-fact.

That rattles him more than he’d like to admit.

“I want answers.” He takes a step forward. “I want to know what the hell you are.”

This time, you do turn. You meet his gaze, and for the first time, you’re not hiding behind riddles or cryptic smiles.

“I think you already know.”

He watches you carefully. Everything about you is… off. Not in an obvious way, not grotesque or monstrous, but in the kind of way that makes his instincts coil in quiet alarm,

You don’t fidget. Not a single nervous shift, no rise and fall of your shoulders as you breathe.

Your expression is eerily smooth, like something carved from marble, only shifting when you decide it should.

Your movements, when they come, are deliberate–as if you have all the time in the world to react, no wasted energy.

But what gets him the most–what unnerves him–is the way your gaze lingers just a little too long on his throat.

His stomach tightens. His mind finally pieces it together. You’re hungry.

Your lips curve, the kind of smile that feels like it holds a secret just out of reach.

“You’re observant.”

His mouth twitches, something like a dry laugh dying in his throat. “So that’s it, then? That’s why you didn’t kill me last time?”

You tilt your head, considering. Not denying it.

“It’s why I should have.”

The words land heavier than they should. The weight of what you are–what he already knew deep down but refused to name–settles over him.

He exhales sharply through his nose, tilting his head back to glare at the sky as if God Himself could provide an answer for this nightmare.

Then he looks back at you, blue eyes sharp beneath furrowed brows. “So what are we doing here, then?”

“Closure, wasn’t it?” Your voice is smooth, silken, just a touch condescending. “You came looking for answers.”

His nostrils flare. “And you came looking for blood.”

“Ah.” A small, amused hum. Not in denial.

Matt folds his arms, muscles tensing beneath the sleeves of his shirt. His sharp cheekbones cast angular shadows under the moonlight, his jaw locked tight, but there’s something else in his expression now.

Something less afraid.

More… curious.

He lets the silence stretch before speaking, voice edged with dry amusement.

“You know,” he starts, watching you closely, “I read somewhere that vampires don’t breathe.”

You blink at him, unbothered. “Oh?”

“Yeah.” His lips twitch, the barest hint of a smirk. “Kind of hard to be all alluring and terrifying when you’re standing there holding your breath like a corpse.” He mutters, voice dry, edged with something almost smug.

“Also, you’re a liar.”

You arch your brow, taken slightly aback by the sudden accusation.

“You breathed back at the morgue,” he points out, tone laced with sly, unwavering certainty. “I saw it. I heard it. Pretty unconvincing for someone who’s supposed to be dead.”

For the first time, your expression shifts. Not in shock or discomfort–no, nothing as human as that–but something far more deliberate. Like you’ve been waiting for him to catch on.

A slow, knowing smile curves your lips.

“That was just to make you realize I wasn’t actually dead,” you say, stepping forward, letting the words sink in. Then, softer–almost taunting:

“Well… not in the way you thought I was.”

The night air hangs thick around you both, the silence feeling unnervingly heavy after the revelation.

Matt stands frozen, staring at you like he’s just been struck. He breathes out shakily, but it’s more of a reflex than an attempt to calm himself. His chest rises and falls in quick succession–an action so distinctly human that it contrasts sharply with the eerie stillness that surrounds you.

“You…” His voice is hoarse, barely a whisper. “You faked it.”

You don’t respond right away, instead letting your gaze linger on him with the quiet knowing of someone who has long seen things unfold before they happen.

“I didn’t want you to think I was truly dead,” you say finally, your voice smooth and unsettling, like an unseen predator circling its prey.

Matt’s mind races, trying to catch up, but it’s like trying to navigate fog. He stares at you–his blue eyes wide with something between disbelief and fear. The strange sense of vulnerability that he felt before? It’s still there, but now it’s tinged with unease, like he’s been lied to for far too long.

“I didn’t…” He starts, but he trails off, unsure how to finish the thought. His gaze darts away, nervously at first, but then back to you. He’s trying to piece things together.

“You didn’t want to be dead to me, right?”

Your eyes never leave him. You say nothing, but the way you tilt your head is an acknowledgment in itself.

It hits him like a cold wave: you were playing with him, but not in the way he thought. She was trying to get him to see–to feel–that she wasn’t just some mindless monster. That her existence was far more complex, tangled in a web of emotions she didn’t quite understand herself. And all the while, she was watching him, studying him, making sure he would never forget her.

He exhales sharply, finally grasping the weight of the situation, but it only adds to his confusion.

“Why me?” His voice cracks. The question isn’t rhetorical anymore– he needs an answer. More than anything, he needs closure.

You smile softly, almost imperceptibly, as if your secrets are still yours to keep. “You’ll have to decide that for yourself.”

Matt takes a few steps back, shaking his head, as though trying to rid himself of the oppressive feeling that you’ve just placed upon him. He feels sick, but not in the way he expected. It’s like the world had tilted on its axis, and now he’s left teetering on a line he never asked to walk. The lines between life and death, faith and fascination, are blurred.

Still, he can’t bring himself to walk away. He can’t bring himself to leave you. Even as the unease tightens in his chest, he knows something is pulling him back. 

“Why don’t you just end it? Why not kill me?” His voice is tight, like the words are scraping their way out of him. He’s searching for an answer, but deep down, he knows it’s not just about the physical threat. It’s something else–something deeper.

You stand still, your gaze steady, but inside, something swirls. A mixture of disbelief and unknowing. Why don’t you just end it?

“You’re not worth it,” you say gently, your voice distant and almost impersonal. It’s the easy answer. The answer you give him, not to push him away, but to keep the truth locked in a place even you won’t go.

But Matt doesn’t buy it. His eyes widen slightly, not just in disbelief, but in frustration. “Then why come back? Why–” His breath catches, and he can’t finish the sentence. 

You feel it before he says it–his confusion, his unease. It’s a question that’s been on his mind for days, weeks, maybe even longer. Why are you willing to return?

The stillness of the water reflects Matt’s face, making the moment feel unreal, like a dream. The tension that clings to the air thickens, and you suddenly feel the weight of it more than ever. You’ve been coming back to him, for reasons you can’t fully comprehend.

“You’ve asked that before.” You take a slow step toward him, just enough to close the gap. Not a threatening move, but one that speaks volumes in its intent. “You don’t like the answer.”

Matt’s jaw tightens. His breath is shallow, and for the first time, he’s not sure if he’s more afraid of you–or of what’s happening to him the longer you stay.

“I don’t understand,” he mutters, voice almost breaking. There’s a shaken up tone there, one he hasn’t shown to anyone in a long time. Maybe never. “Why do you keep showing up? What do you want from me?”

Your expression softens–just the slightest shift, like something fragile breaking through the barrier you’ve kept yourself. You hesitate, your gaze lingering on him, and for a moment, there’s something raw, something genuine.

“I don’t know,” you admit, barely above a whisper, as if you’re talking to yourself more than him, But the words are an opening–a crack in your carefully constructed facade. “I can’t explain it, not right now.”

He senses something shifting in you, something that doesn’t fit the creature he thought you were. But it confuses him further. If you don’t want to hurt him, then why come back? Why continue this strange, unsettling game you’ve been playing with him?

“You’ll understand eventually,” you say, a quiet certainty in your voice. You mean it, but at the same time, you’re unsure whether he ever will.

For a long moment, neither of you move, your eyes locking in a tense silence. Matt knows this won’t be the last time you cross his path, but a part of him almost wishes it would be. He’s not sure how to reconcile what’s happening–his faith, his own loneliness, and the undeniable connection between you two.

But as the silence lingers, you give him one last, reluctant smile, and with a soft, unhurried step backward, you turn toward the shadows.

“I’ll return.” The words hang in the air, chilling him to his core.

He doesn’t say anything as you disappear into the darkness. Part of him feels relief, but another part–the part that can’t understand, the part that’s growing more and more curious–aches for answers he knows he might never get.

out of the coffin: chapter two is out yayeyayyeyayeya. i will make a masterlist soon, don't worry. this series will have MULTIPLE parts so you will probably get lost in the sauce of my blog. same for chris when i get to writing about him also. i love writing this au soo muchhhhuhhh i already have chapter 3 written so i'll post it sometime next week or the week after.

more to come soon. stay tuned, witches.

Love and bitten kisses, May. 𖤐.☾

🧛‍♀️🧛: @bernardsbendystraws, @muwapsturniolo

[eternallyordinary]

“He Belongs to You” - Part 6

Part 1<3

Part 2<3

Part 3<3

Part 4<3

Part 5<3

Part 7<3

Summary: During an Access Hollywood interview meant to introduce you to the public, an unexpected guest turns it into something else entirely. Tension lingers even after the cameras stop rolling, leaving you uncertain about what comes next.

Warnings: detailed description of sexual assault, trauma, anxiety, death, violence, controlling behavior, age/gap relationship, smut, foul language

*:・ﾟ✧*:・ﾟ✧✧・ﾟ: *✧・ﾟ:* ˚₊· *:・ﾟ✧*:・ﾟ✧✧・ﾟ: *

You and Homelander finish showering. You try to brush off his earlier comments about your attackers—maybe he’ll forget. Maybe he was just trying to impress you, show off a little. But believing that? That will take some convincing.

You push it aside, burying the thoughts deep, unwilling to let him see the worry creeping in, the pain you’ve worked so hard to suppress.

Disassociating, you go through the motions of your skincare routine, your hands steady even as your mind teeters on the edge. He’s only ever seen you as strong, sharp, put-together. That’s the version of you he knows. The only version you want him to see. But the words won’t stop playing in your head:

“They’re dead. They just don’t know it yet.”

The thought should horrify you. Instead, it lingers, gnawing at something dark inside you. The truth is, you don’t care if they live or die. After what they did, after what they took, death is a kindness compared to what they truly deserve. They should feel pain. They should suffer.

It’s been years, but when you stare into the mirror, they’re still there. Their hands. Their laughter. The smell of them. The pain your body felt. The taste of bile rising in your throat as you think back to that night.

You remember it all.

The way you slumped against the wall, your head lolling to one side, struggling to keep your eyes open. The way they took turns sticking their dicks inside of you, laughing, high-fiving, cameras flashing as they marked you with their semen, treating you like some object without a pulse.

The itchy rug burning against your bare skin. The throbbing pain between your legs. The stares. The whispers. The way your mother called you a whore while your father was the only one who believed you. The way the cops dismissed you, shrugged off your horror, called you the girl who cried wolf.

That’s when your father realized law enforcement wouldn’t protect you. That’s when you were injected with Compound V.

The threats had been too much. The fear too suffocating. He wanted you safe. You wanted something else.

The doctors warned you. The risks were high. Compound V was meant for infants, not teenagers. But you didn’t care. The best-case scenario? You’d have strength. Confidence. The power to protect yourself. The worst? You’d die.

And really, would that have been so bad?

Now that Homelander knows someone hurt you, all the broken pieces you’ve spent years trying to discard will come back to haunt you. What if he looks at you differently? What if he stops looking at you at all?

He treats you like something fragile, something delicate. But little does he know—you’re already shattered.

“How do you feel about the interview?” His voice pulls you from your thoughts.

The way he shifts—possessive and protective one second, encouraging and supportive the next—is jarring. For most people, that kind of inconsistency would signal a disorder. For Homelander? It’s just how he was built. A machine trying to mimic emotions.

“Sweetheart? Sweetheart?”

You flinch. The reaction is immediate, instinctive, like you’ve been caught doing something wrong.

“Yes? Sorry,” you say quickly.

His expression flickers, his sharp eyes reading you too easily. He knows something is wrong. He knows everything. But he’s trying. Trying to be normal—as normal as a man with lasers for eyes can be.

“Easy there, tiger,” he teases, coming up behind you, pressing a kiss to the top of your head.

“Go put on your suit. We have to head down soon.”

“I rather put it on after hair and makeup,” you reply, glancing at him through the mirror.

His grip is firm as he cups your jaw, that tight-lipped smile that isn’t really a smile. “I didn’t ask.”

You roll your eyes as you head to the closet, tugging your suit off the hanger. Homelander doesn’t miss the gesture. He makes a mental note to punish you for it later.

“Wait—you said we. You’re coming?”

“Duh,” he says, as if it’s obvious.

You want to argue. To push back. You’ve only been here for one day. Can’t you handle one thing on your own?

“Why do you want me to put my suit on now?” you call out from the closet.

“Because if it’s showing too much, they’re going to fix it.”

You step out, narrowing your eyes at him. “Fix it?”

He gestures for you to spin. You sigh and humor him, slowly turning.

“Stop.”

You freeze, back facing him. He steps up behind you, smoothing his hand over the fabric. “See, this—” he taps the small of your back, pushing slightly, making you arch against him, “this isn’t going to work. Your ass is hanging out.”

His fingers tug at the shorts, pulling the fabric tighter, making them ride up even more.

You straighten. “Homelander,” you huff. “You’re pulling them up. They’re fine.”

His gaze darkens. “I didn’t ask for your opinion.”

You smirk, wrapping a leg around his hip, your doe eyes flickering up at him. “Don’t you trust me?”

He clenches his jaw, resisting the urge to grab you by the throat and teach you something about trust. Before he can respond, there’s a knock at the door.

“Come in.”

A timid PA peeks in. “Um, hi—hair and makeup is ready for you downstairs. If that’s, like, okay. If you want to.”

You cast one last glance at Homelander before heading for the door. He follows like a shadow. When he knows you’re out of earshot, he turns to the PA.

“Get her some new fucking shorts.”

“What?”

He doesn’t repeat himself.

Downstairs, you sit in the makeup chair as stylists work around you. You’ve never been one for attention, never liked being the center of it. But maybe, you can get used to it.

Homelander watches the way you interact with them, the way you ask about their day and actually listen. How you smile at them like they’re people, not background extras. You have powers, but you’re more human than anyone he’s ever met.

You’re real.

The hairstylist chats as she works, her tone warm, maternal. “How’s NYC treating you so far?”

“I like it. But it’s only been a day. Ask me in a week,” you joke.

“Oh, you’ll love it. You’re young, beautiful, single—”

“She’s actually not single.”

Homelander’s hands land on your shoulders. His tone is casual. Too casual.

“And can we tone this down a bit? I’m not letting my girlfriend look like a fucking porn star bimbo on Access Whatever-the-Fuck. Thanks.”

He presses a kiss to the top of your head and walks off, presumably to go yell at A-Train. The room falls silent.

“Sorry,” you murmur.

The hairstylist sighs, lowering her voice. “You’ve been here, what? A day?”

You chuckle softly. “Barely.”

She hesitates, then leans in slightly. “You’ve heard the stories, right?”

Of course you have. More bad than good.

“Just… be careful,” she says gently. “He might be America’s hero, but in most people’s storybooks? He’s the villain.”

Her words hit differently than they should. Maybe because you want to live in the fantasy—where the biggest superhero in the world is obsessed with you. Where this is special.

But deep down, you know there’s darkness in him.

You just pray you never have to see it.

Pasting on a smile, you force a lighthearted tone. “Can you make my hair a little less… what did he say…. porn star bimbo?”

The hairstylist lets out a quiet sigh, reaching for the teasing comb without another word. She doesn’t realize you’re ending the conversation for her sake. In just 24 hours, you’ve learned one thing—Homelander doesn’t tolerate obstacles. And anyone who gets in his way? He destroys.

Your hair and makeup is done. You look in the mirror, not recognizing yourself, but liking what you see. You turn around and make your way back to the green room for the interview. After Homelander’s claim on you last night, you’re hoping for a chance to redeem yourself - even if it is through access-whatever the fuck it’s called.

You catch Homelander talking up the female reporter. If you didn’t know better, you’d think he was flirting. Is this jealousy you’re feeling? You shake it off, walking up to interrupt the conversation. You find yourself grabbing his arm - oh, you are jealous. He senses this and it thrills him. He has the urge to take it a step further, make you even more jealous to see where it leads. But the way you grab his arm makes him melt, on top of how gorgeous you look. Even if you are still wearing those slutty shorts. You take a seat, and there you are—alone, all eyes on you. Homelander eyes you from the video village, having trouble taking a back seat.

The studio lights shine bright, the cameras rolling as the Access Hollywood host, Karen Scott, sits across from you, her signature grin plastered across her face. You keep your posture poised, legs crossed, hands resting neatly in your lap. The branding behind you screams “Vought Presents: Meet the Seven’s Newest Star!”

You’re ready. This is your moment.

Karen leans forward, beaming. “We are here today with the newest—and might I add, one of the most highly anticipated—members of The Seven!” She gestures toward you as the audience off-camera cheers. “She’s powerful, she’s stunning, and she’s already taking the world by storm! Please welcome—”

The sudden sound of footsteps cuts her off.

You don’t need to turn your head to know who it is.

A heavy, commanding hand lands on your shoulder just as Homelander steps into frame, his cape billowing behind him like it was designed for dramatic entrances.

“Now, now, Karen,” Homelander drawls, flashing his perfect, too-white teeth. “Let’s not get ahead of ourselves.” He squeezes your shoulder, feigning warmth. “Wouldn’t want people thinking she got here all on her own.”

The tension in the room shifts immediately. Karen, ever the professional, chuckles nervously. “Homelander! Wasn’t expecting you to hop in—”

“Surprise,” he interrupts smoothly, settling into the chair beside you, legs spread wide, completely owning the space. “Thought I’d sit in. You know, give the fans a little insight into why we—” he glances at you, the smirk never leaving his lips, “—chose her.”

You clench your jaw, keeping the polite smile on your face. Of course, he’s doing this. Of course, he couldn’t just let you have this moment.

You want to fight back. You need to. But you know how dangerous that game is. So instead, you take a slow breath, steel your nerves, and decide—if he wants to play, then fine. You’ll play.

Karen shifts in her seat, glancing between you and Homelander. “Well! Since we have both of you here, let’s start with the obvious question.” She turns to you. “What’s it been like, joining the most powerful team in the world?”

You open your mouth to speak—but Homelander beats you to it.

“Well, Karen,” he says, his voice smooth, rehearsed. “It’s been quite the adjustment for her, I’m sure. New city, new responsibilities, and, of course—” he turns his head, his piercing gaze locking onto you, “—new relationships.”

You bite your tongue.

Karen nods, completely eating up Homelander’s performance. “Absolutely! And what about you? What made you see her as a fit for The Seven?”

Homelander hums, tilting his head. “Oh, where do I start? She’s strong. Fierce. Dedicated. But more than that, she understands…” He lets the pause linger, looking at you like he’s daring you to interrupt.

You don’t.

“…who she belongs with.”

A dangerous silence lingers for just a second too long before Karen, slightly caught off guard, laughs. “Well! That’s, uh… very high praise.”

You don’t let yourself react. Instead, you turn to Karen with a practiced, charming smile. “It’s been an honor to join The Seven. I’ve worked my whole life for this opportunity.” You place a delicate hand on Homelander’s arm, feeling him tense under your touch. “And I couldn’t have done it without him believing in me.”

He eases slightly. You knew that would stroke his ego.

But you aren’t done.

Karen nods enthusiastically. “And the fans are already loving you! You’re being called ‘the fresh, young energy The Seven needed.’ I’m sure you’ve seen the online buzz?”

You flash a bashful smile. “I have, yeah. It’s… nice, knowing people are excited about me.” You put emphasis on the last word, your gaze flickering toward Homelander just briefly enough for him to catch it.

His jaw twitches.

Karen beams. “Well, you are the moment! And a lot of that excitement is also, of course, about you two.” She gestures between you and Homelander. “Social media is already flooded with clips of your… let’s say, undeniable chemistry.”

You barely have time to react before Homelander lets out a deep, pleased chuckle.

“What can I say?” he murmurs, reaching over to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear. His fingers linger against your skin. “People love a good power couple.”

The words send a shock through your spine. You school your expression into something neutral, refusing to let him win.

Karen raises a brow. “So, can we confirm that? Are you two…?”

This is your chance.

You could go along with it, let him have this claim over you—again. Or… you could do what you really want.

You shift in your seat, batting your lashes as you turn to Karen. “Oh, Karen.” You lean in, resting your chin on your hand. “Now, that would be spoiling the mystery, wouldn’t it?”

Homelander’s entire body stiffens.

Karen laughs. “I love that answer.”

You can feel the heat radiating off Homelander. Good. He hates not being in control. You can tell he wants to say something—maybe correct you, maybe make some grand declaration of ownership. But he doesn’t. Not here. Not where the cameras are rolling.

Instead, he settles for gripping your thigh under the table.

Tight.

Possessive.

But you don’t flinch.

The interview wraps up, the cameras still rolling but the closing music signaling the end of the segment. Karen thanks you both, shaking hands, oblivious to the silent war happening under the table.

Homelander’s grip on your thigh is bruising.

He hasn’t spoken since you dodged the question. Since you humiliated him. In front of millions.

You can feel the rage radiating off him, an unstable storm brewing under that carefully controlled exterior. But he doesn’t snap—not here. Not where people can see.

Instead, he flashes a dazzling smile to Karen. “Pleasure as always.” His voice is smooth, but you know that tone. It’s the same voice he uses before lasering someone into dust.

You don’t move. You wait.

Homelander stands first, his cape whipping behind him as he gestures for you to follow. “Come on, sweetheart. Let’s go.”

It’s not a request.

You hesitate, just for a second. He notices.

His jaw clenches, but he doesn’t lash out—not yet. He extends a hand to you, his grip forceful but calculated as he helps you up. “Smile,” he murmurs, too low for anyone else to hear. “Wouldn’t want people thinking you’re afraid of me.”

He guides you through the studio, the Vought execs watching like hawks. You keep your expression composed, refusing to let him see the way your heart is hammering. You knew he’d be mad. You wanted him to be mad. But now, walking beside him, you realize just how close you’re dancing to the edge.

The second you’re backstage, away from prying eyes, his grip tightens around your throat.

“Did you really think that was funny?” he murmurs, his voice so low it sends chills down your spine. He doesn’t yell. He doesn’t have to. His voice alone carries enough restrained violence to make the air thick with tension.

You look up at him, batting your lashes in mock innocence, struggling to breathe. “I don’t know what you mean.”

His nostrils flare.

“Don’t play with me.” His hand moves to your jaw, tilting your chin up so you have to look at him. His thumb brushes against your lower lip—gentle, almost loving. But his grip is unforgiving. “You enjoyed that, didn’t you?”

You wet your lips, your breath shallow. “What?”

“Teasing me.” His voice is venom-laced honey. “Denying me in front of all those people. Making me look like some pathetic, lovesick idiot.”

You don’t answer. You can’t. Because he’s right.

He chuckles darkly. “Oh, sweetheart.” He shakes his head, his grip loosening—but only slightly. “You really don’t know what you’ve done.”

He leans in, so close his breath fans against your cheek. “But that’s okay,” he murmurs, kissing the corner of your mouth. “I’ll remind you.”

His hand trails down your arm, his fingers barely ghosting over your skin. It sends a shiver through you. Not from fear—no, you know better. This isn’t fear. This is something worse.

“Are you going to punish me?” you ask, keeping your voice steady.

His eyes darken, his pupils blown wide with something dangerous.

He presses his lips to your ear, his voice dropping to a whisper.

“Oh, sweetheart…” He laughs, quiet and sinister. “I already am.”

And with that, he pulls away, his grip gone, his expression suddenly light and pleasant as if nothing happened at all.

“Come on.” He gestures for you to follow, his voice as cheerful as ever. “Let’s go.”

Homelander doesn’t touch you as you leave the studio. That’s the punishment.

He doesn’t press a hand to your lower back, doesn’t pull you possessively against his side, doesn’t hover over you like a protective force of nature. He keeps walking ahead, never looking back.

It shouldn’t bother you.

But it does.

The city is loud, the streets buzzing with reporters still trying to get a shot of the two of you, their cameras flashing in bursts of white-hot light. They call your name. His name.

Homelander doesn’t acknowledge them.

Neither do you.

The moment you’re both out of sight from the cameras, he sweeps you into his arms and takes off into the sky. You both are soaring over the skyline, the wind whipping against your faces. Normally, this part excites you—the thrill of being in the air, the rush of speed—but now? Now all you can feel is the tension.

He’s silent.

You land on your balcony, and before you can even turn around, he’s already inside, pacing through your apartment like a lion in a cage. His hands flex at his sides, his jaw tight.

He’s waiting for you to speak first.

You don’t.

Instead, you close the balcony door and lean against it, watching him.

“So…” you finally say, feigning nonchalance. “You’re mad.”

Homelander stops. Turns his head, looking at you over his shoulder.

“Mad?” he echoes, voice deceptively calm.

You know better.

“You humiliated me,” he says, his tone soft but laced with something sharp. “In front of millions.”

You push off the door and cross your arms. “I didn’t humiliate you.”

His gaze flickers, just for a second, but you see it—the momentary flash of something unhinged.

“Sweetheart.” He smiles, but it doesn’t reach his eyes. “You challenged me.”

You inhale slowly. He’s still keeping his distance, still standing across the room. He hasn’t touched you since the interview. Since he whispered, I already am.

You tilt your head. “So, what’s my punishment, then?”

Homelander lets out a quiet chuckle, shaking his head. He walks toward you—slow, deliberate, like he wants you to feel every second of it.

And then… he passes you.

Goes straight to your bedroom.

Your stomach flips.

You follow, your pulse quickening.

When you enter, he’s already making himself at home, sprawled out on your bed like he fucking owns it.

Because he does.

You stand in the doorway, arms still crossed. “What are you doing?”

Homelander props himself up on an elbow, tilting his head at you. “What does it look like?”

You narrow your eyes. “I meant what you said earlier. About my punishment.”

“Oh, sweetheart.” He smirks. “This is it.”

You hesitate. “…Laying on my bed?”

He grins wider. “Ignoring you.”

Your stomach twists, your fingers clenching at your sides.

That’s what this is?

Homelander has spent the last 24 hours consuming you—smothering you, obsessing over you, refusing to let you out of his sight. He’s claimed you over and over, left bruises where only he can see, reminded you that you belong to him.

And now?

Now he’s withholding himself.

It’s petty. It’s cruel.

It’s working.

You roll your eyes, feigning indifference. “Okay, fine. Be dramatic. I have stuff to do.”

You turn on your heel and walk toward the bathroom.

You don’t make it two steps.

Whoosh.

He’s in front of you.

His smirk. His arrogance. Gone.

“Try that again,” he says, voice low.

Your breath catches.

And then—he steps back.

Your frustration spikes. You want him to touch you. Want him to pin you down and remind you who the fuck you belong to.

But he knows that.

That’s the punishment.

He leans against the doorframe, arms crossed over his broad chest. “Go ahead,” he says, nodding toward the bathroom. “Take your time.”

You hate him.

You walk past him, closing the door behind you with more force than necessary.

And in the silence, as you stare at your reflection, you realize…

This might be the worst punishment he’ll ever give you.

And the moment he breaks?

You’re fucked.

[booberrybawls]

skidding to a halt brandishing my firm belief that the vast majority of Lokis have some degree of body dysmorphia although my degree is in Comic Idiot so I will argue from the standpoint that Comic Idiot Loki has body dysmorphia - Loki killed his younger self. took his body. proceeded to age it up to give himself some distance from that fact. but everybody still refers to him as the Lil Guy he killed. "omg loki you grew so tall when did you grow so tall" "how did you age to manhood so fast??" "you're not that nasty loki that came before, you're the cute sweet one" - his body is still Kid Loki's in a way because everyone associates his body with Kid Loki you understand - oh the horror of trying to escape your ties to this one person you beat into the dirt but you're wearing the face they would have had if they had grown up happy and healthy and turned eighteen like any other kid so WHY AREN'T YOU THAT KID? SOMETHING IS VERY WRONG - every time he looks in a mirror something insane happens, either his bosses call him thru the mirror about redeeming himself from his sins or his dead kid self and evil future self start a satanic chorus in the mirror, u name it. - it reminds me of Kurt Vonnegut's book Breakfast of Champions when he calls mirrors Leaks because he believes that they are holes between universes, and children should never go near that - the only time Loki looks in a mirror and everything is okay, he's literally come back from being set on fire, physically and mentally burned to a crisp, exploded, killed, reborn, altered, and unhinged. Nobody recognizes him. He had to die all the way through just like Old Loki and Kid Loki to get the chance at being someone new. Stealing a body wasn't a real rebirth. - there's a recurring line in AOA about Loki "squatting in [kid loki's] stolen corpse" and Sif who dealt with this too says that Loki "squatted in my flesh for days" there's something disgusting and ill-fitting and wrong about Loki's relation to body and mind that even the onlookers realize. Imagine being the one squatting within the corpse, the sensation of ill-fitting has to be dialed up to a hundred. - yes comic loki is a flirt and a charmer. he knows he looks like harry styles, he knows he's pretty. but yes i think he has body dysmorphia nonetheless at least until the end of Agent of Asgard because he's actually a bodysnatcher i rest my case

Warning: mentions of mental health issues, as well as general talk about them.

Do you have any analyses/headcanons on Loki’s mental health? Do you think there’s a specific disorder he could have or one that he shows a lot of symptoms of? Anything that’s related to some of the struggles he faces within himself? Is there any canon evidence that leads you to believing he may struggle with this disorder?

Example: “His actions in this scene lead me to believe that he struggles with bipolar disorder. I truly believe that certain struggles/issues of his may stem from it. He shows many common symptoms of this disorder.”

(Not my own opinion, just an example.)

Or are there any mental health issues that you headcanon him with, whether you think he could actually have them/show symptoms of them or not? Ones that don’t have much or any canon evidence at all, but you headcanon him having?

Example: “There is little to no canon evidence of him struggling with disordered eating/some form of eating disorder, but I headcanon him as struggling with it.”

(Not my own opinion, just an example.)

[roots-symphony]

do you think the reason agatha’s trial felt weird is because she was the only one who did not actually buy into the mythos of the road since she knew the truth? like that was why no perspective change and all the other reasons why people thought it was a fake trial

[hibernating-stag]

God I still haven't gotten over the gut punch that was Millia saying "God, I hope not."

That ending is seared into my subconscious.

[galacticlamps]

actually ascension needs its own post since that's the one with the most details to speculate over and im starved for soho talk so i will talk to myself if need be

First the cover again, because I kinda can't get over it:

my only thing is that I had been hoping we might get Lizbeth on a cover again since she's never been on one of the boxsets before, despite being the 2nd person credited on all 4 of them (even if that's just alphabetical, still, she's the only one of the four main characters who never makes the cover)

But letting that go...

I know we already kinda knew the brief for this one but damn I didn't expect it to go quite this hard. Maybe that's just because the Parasite & Ashenden covers were (comparatively) similarish to each other and I was so pleased with Unbegotten's, and then got so used to it as the placeholder for Ascension while they kept postponing it, I wasn't expecting anything this colorful or detailed or with what I can't help but register as Fun New Outfits even though these are still like, pretty damn basic as far as costumes go. Still, it's a different vibe from everyone in suits and trenchcoats on every cover, technically. (Oh the woes of being an audio fan such that two characters owning sweaters actually does qualify as new information)

On top of just being visually delightful though, I know we knew religion was gonna be a fairly big part of this one, but I didn't actually expect to get quite this much of it - though I'm glad of it for a number of reasons. The BF twitter already made the ineffable joke so I don't have to, but also yeah I did very much spend all of season 2 episode 4 of good omens half convinced Samuel Barnett & Dervla Kirwan were about to pop up around any given corner (if you will go around being gay supernatural and horrible at your messy bureaucratic jobs in midcentury soho then I'm sorry, this is where my brain's gonna go) - so, fuel to that fire. But in terms of actual important things, at least one of my Soho wishes looks to be being granted because we have a Rev Edward Folgate on the cast list, which must mean we're finally meeting Norton's father, even if his mother & brother don't appear (which they could, technically, I've definitely seen BF not list all the doublings on their cast tabs before). Religion, domesticity, and the nuclear family are all things that absolutely fascinate me when it comes to Norton's character, so getting any amount of story involving his father & his church is something I've been actively hoping for for a long time now.

(I will say I'm a tiny bit bummed Saffron Coomber isn't on the cast list to play Mia again, but I kinda figured she wasn't going to be since Greg Austin's Armitage, who's making his first recurring appearance after originating in Unbegotten, was listed ever since the boxset was announced - presumably if she was also returning, that would've been handled in the same way. But since Unbegotten ended with Lizbeth and Mia going on a date, I still held out hope. Who knows though, maybe things did go well for them and Lizbeth just has a better work/life balance than Norton so she can date someone without them getting dragged into every scifi plot. I know that's not a very common accomplishment for any Torchwood agent, but a gal can hope)

At this point I know I'm completely in the realm of speculation & even wishful thinking, but I'm really really hoping we get some more clues as to Norton's overall timeline in this one, and I have a feeling that even if there's nothing as direct as dates given, the events of a plot like this one are going to heavily influence my personal interpretation of it.

To say that life & death are major themes for the soho crew feels wildly reductive, but even by Torchwood's standards and taking into account its origins as a piece of media with Jack Harkness & his newfound immortality at the heart of it, the living/dead status of this bunch has always been fantastically up in the air to me. Obviously Ghost Mission introduced Norton as kind of a ghost before revealing more obvious ghostly characters later on to which the title might have been referring, but his being from the past did beg the question of his survival into Torchwood's present era all the same, which Outbreak later alludes to much more directly, and his habit of showing up via hologram in multiple stories only further obfuscates any certainty we might have about where & when he definitely can be said to be alive and well. Then you've got Lizbeth and Gideon both being effectively 'brought back to life' via paradoxes that prevented them ever having died in the first place. Again, they are very very far from being the only Torcwhood characters this happens to (for a sprawling EU, it's really rather impressive how often & in how many different ways Torchwood as a whole manages to circle back to being about like. chaotic undead queers at the end of every day. though I suppose that consistency is part of why I keep falling in love with its different iterations again and again). That's without even getting into the question of Norton's dubious fate in God Among Us - and I say dubious because I know some people take that to be his ultimate death, but I personally think that reading something as vague as that as having any kind of finality rather goes against the spirit of this whole world/series, not just because I want him to live. (There are obviously other ways to make him survive/reappear, but I don't see this as a River Song scenario where we can safely assume one of his earlier-released adventures had to happen at the end of his personal timeline). But wherever God Among Us falls for him, he does very much meet God in it - or at least, a god, since the sentinel in Unbegotten is also described as a god of sorts, and even if he doesn't ultimately have the status of the god Jacqueline King is playing there, Unbegotten is still full to bursting with ghosts/undead/came back wrong/echo characters to continue underscoring that life/afterlife theme.

So all things considered, even allowing for the fact that we know Norton's twin hobbies are lying about himself and abusing time travel to suit his own ends/ever-shifting alliances, I find it difficult to believe we could get through a whole 6-part boxset about religion & death without something providing some kind of compelling evidence about where this adventure fits in among his other run-ins with apocalypses and gods and ghosts and dead-but-still-here characters/creatures, so I'm very much looking forward to any further exploration on that front.

And lastly, and least intellectually, I really want to know what the hell 20th-century Torchwood's obsession with Reginalds is. Reading through the cast list, I had to do two separate doubletakes over the character 'Sir Reginald Peebles' - firstly, because I had Reginald Rigsby on the brain, this being Soho (and the other Troughton brother being so active on BF's releases for this same month) - and secondly, because reading this in conjunction with the announcement for the July monthly adventure in which the new main Torchwood guy of the 20s is apparently called Sir Reginald Dellafield, there was a brief moment where I took that monthly release to be a tie-in with Ascension. I don't expect it to be, but damn. was it really so popular a name?

anyways, catch me thinking about those stained glass windows for the next couple months I guess (and knowing Torchwood Soho, for a long long time after it comes out as well lol)

[pinkcadillaccas]

Anyone else feeling the relentless march of time on this Saturday night

[tonycries]

Unmistakably Yours - G.S.

Synopsis. In which the strongest bends space and time - literally - after coming back from deatḣ, to do what he’s always wanted to do - you.

Pairing. Gojo Satoru x Reader

Content. MDNI, fem! reader, best friends to lovers, Satoru goes a little (very) INSANE, oral (fem receiving), fíngering, manga spoilers, use of jujutsu powers, unprotected, créampie, spitting, overstim, féral Satoru, heinous things, happy ending, pet names, swearing.

Word count. 4.5k

A/N. Yeahhh that poll was cooking up something devious heheh. Gege give me back my man.

Gojo Satoru was going to kill someone.

He was going to kill someone and it didn’t matter who. It didn’t matter how. It didn’t even matter if he had to haul his broken body - scarred and barely-healed - out of this stiff infirmary bed, because the great Gojo Satoru awoke and the world shook.

Because you weren’t here.

“Ah. The oh-so deadest one, I see you’re awake.” Satoru flinches at the sharp, exhausted drawl from his left. 

Slowly, he blinks away the haze in his aching eyes, desperately trying to adjust to the cold room. Shoko’s voice was too loud. The lights too bright. His waiting arms too empty - where were you? 

With a low hiss, Satoru’s body is moving before his mind, sitting up like a man possessed. Goosebumps prickle his skin as the thin blanket falls off his shoulders. Temples throbbing because the world was spinning and spinning and you-

“Calm down, Satoru.” Shoko sounds almost panicked now - as much as she could, anyway. Uselessly trying to push him back onto the mattress. “I don’t care if you’re the ‘strongest’. Sukuna did a number on you and you have to rest-”

“Where is she?”

---

It was the final nail on your coffin - that slight, steady rumble beneath your feet. So fleeting that you’d written it off as your weary brain, too goddamn tired from today. Heaving out a sigh, you rub your eyes in frustration, so fucking alone in this too-large penthouse. 

Fingers jittery, you rifle through your best friend’s closet for his box of blindfolds, because you knew he’d be complaining about the sensory overload at the infirmary if- when he woke up. Though, you think that was more an excuse for Shoko to send your wrecked self away than anything. 

Grabbing a few more than necessary, your heart lurches as you eye that dusty framed photo by his bedside. A much younger Satoru, Suguru, Shoko, and you - probably the last time any of you smiled so carelessly. 

One dead and the other just on the cusp of it.

He’ll be okay. He’ll be okay. He’ll be okay. He’s the strongest, right?

Swallowing heavily, you try to put your mind to something - anything - other than the memory of that battlefield and the blood. So much blood. Everywhere. 

God, you should’ve stayed. What if Satoru-

That was when you felt it. 

The tight, uncomfortable feeling of atoms standing at attention all around you. The air was so stagnant and heavy that it was almost hard to breathe. 

You don’t know how you realize what it is - but you don’t get the chance to wonder about it either. Because the thought has barely even crossed your mind before everything else is thrown at the window at those two words. 

Hoarse, and whispered, voice ever-so-slightly cracking at the end. One you recognized, one you knew you always would.

“My love?”

Satoru.

It was a miracle that you didn’t get whiplash from how fast you whirled around to face the doorway - and it was an even bigger miracle that you didn’t trip at how your legs were carrying you to that tall, familiar flash of white hair without a second thought. 

Hell, you don’t think you’ve ever run this fast in your life, and it still wasn’t quick enough when Satoru engulfed you in his arms. Letting out a soft sigh as he hugs you tight enough that it hurt, like he never wanted to let go. 

All familiar warmth and a rapid heartbeat that matched your own. 

A shiver runs down your spine at that scent of the infirmary, tinged with something so dangerously metallic, miles away from the usual hints of pine and candy. But you only pull Satoru closer - not even realizing the tears staining his snug t-shirt, nails digging into his sculpted back. 

“S-Satoru?” you murmur wetly, as if you still couldn’t believe it - even when you were in his strong arms. 

It killed you to pull away, and Satoru wasn’t any better, pulling you firmly to his heated body with a guttural grunt as soon as you showed any signs of shifting away. Grip almost bruising, fingers tight on your hips. But you didn’t mind, why would you? 

Because the strongest was nothing under your will - he always was. And it’s only once you break the embrace just a fraction of an inch that you confirm that this actually was Satoru - your Satoru. 

“You’re here.” you breathe out unsteadily, not knowing where to look first - his heaving chest, as if he’d run all the way here, or those faint scars along his exposed skin. Jagged, running down his pale skin like he was too impatient - too distracted - to let them heal properly. Satoru’s face was scarily blank, pretty lips set in a tight grimace like every second you weren’t locked in his arms killed him. 

He doesn’t answer - like he didn’t know himself. Nervously, you raise your eyes to meet his and-

Oh, Satoru, he was here. Alive.

Looking like he was ready to make sure that no one else was.

You just wondered where they’d pile all the casualties. Too many to bury at Jujutsu High if those tiny blue flickers of lightning at the corners of Satoru’s eyes were anything to go by. 

Gaze hooded, pupils blown, he didn’t look at you with that usual warmth. No, he looked at you like a man that had crawled back from death just to rip you apart. And you had half the mind to wonder whether this was some special grade curse that had just come disguised as your best friend. 

“Are you okay?” you try again, raising a hand to cup his cheek. “Toru?”

Oh, you might as well have just signed your own will, because no sooner are the words out of your mouth before Satoru’s jolting. Like the mere sound of that stupid little nickname from high school was enough to shock him to his very core. 

Electrify him just enough to finally look at you like it was the first time. Like he was seeing you after a thousand years. “My love.”

There it was again, that quiet, strained little mantra. 

Followed very closely by the deafening slam! of the door behind him, so hard that you spy one of the hinges rattling off. Startled, you look over Satoru’s broad shoulders just to catch a glimpse of the single, large handprint charred into the wood, slight steam wafting from his hand.

Shit. He’s lost it.

Almost like the strongest has forgotten his restraint - or didn’t care about it either way. Heated, you wondered what this boded for you. 

Will you be lucky number one on his kill list? You wonder, as Satoru presses his mouth right above your pulse. Racing. Dangerous. Feeling the rapid thump! thump! thump! under his lips.

Breathing you in, dragging his nose up, up, up- He mutters into your skin, “Y’can kill me if you don’t want this.” Will you go down - if there’s anyone left to remember, that is - as the casualty that surely and officially signaled the honored one’s descent into madness? Only the second best friend he had to kill?

Or, Satoru pulls away slowly from his little haven, breath ghosting your lips as he gasps out a shaky, “No God can take me away without doing this.” Will it be something else entirely?

And then he’s kissing you - and you’re kissing him. 

Because fuck, how could you not? This is Satoru, and this is all you’ve ever wanted since those late night convenience store runs in high school, hand-in-hand and teleporting away from a furious Yaga.

The same Satoru that had cockily winked at you goodbye before facing Sukuna - leaving you crying with nothing to hold onto but those cold, cold hands and wishes that you’d have just fucking kissed him before. Maybe even put aside your pride to just tell him.

But none of that mattered now, because Satoru was so desperate - drinking you in like you were the last breath of air on Earth. Like it hurt more to part with your lips than it was to be cleaved in half.

Such a mess of teeth and saliva, and you were addicted. Drunk off his sweet taste - like candy, almost, and those cheap mochi he always got from downtown - and the electricity pricking at you each time your skin grazed against his.

It almost hurt - but it hurt so good.

Gasping, you pull away for air - impossible with the way Satoru was like a madman, kissing your swollen lips again and again and-

“Toru!” you squeal, muffled through his lips. “Aren’t you-” His mouth drops into a soft oh! at the delicate strings of saliva snapping in the non-existent space between you two. Surging forward like he couldn’t help himself. “Battlefield- mmpf- now?”

With a pained grunt, Satoru finally halts, just a hair’s breadth from your lips. And if you were in any better state of mind, maybe you’d have noticed the brief flicker of blue lightning all over his body. The way the lights flicker. 

“Special curtain.” he pants against your open mouth, a muscled thigh shoving between your weakening legs. “Time barely passes in here.”

You don’t know what your head is reeling more from his words or his hands - hands that kill - caressing you like a lover everywhere. Unable to decide between your hips, to your ass, to your pretty pretty face. Kiss-bitten lips uttering, “Everyone’s waiting for you.”

“So?” Satoru lets out a humorless laugh. About an octave higher than usual, like he was at the end of his rope now. Eyes hazy and glowing, looking as if it took everything in him to not just tear off that uniform and take you right now. 

“But-”

“Shut up and let me ruin you, my love.”

Your back is hitting the mattress before you can even start to wonder what the fuck is happening. One second standing at the doorway and the other all sprawled out on Satoru’s bed.

Besides yourself, you blurt out, trying to make sense of the situation to both of you two. “Did- did you just teleport us?”

“Don’t know.” he answers. And Satoru sounded like he genuinely didn’t know, as bewildered as you were. Powers acting before him - way, way before he can think - as he fists your shirt in his hands. “Don’t care.”

And you half wondered whether Satoru was even aware of what he was doing as he pulls, down, down down. 

Rip!

It tears through the air - both the sound, and the way he’s just pulling your shirt to shreds. All depravity and no repentance as Satoru throws it behind God-knows-where. Buttons hitting the floor at a maddening little rhythm to which he was slowly losing his sanity. 

He was kissing you like he was angry - taking it out on your poor clothes. Because before you know it, he’s pulling your bra off. Fingers searing on your skin, skirt just tatters on the floor. 

“Waited too long.” he groans, leaving wet, open-mouthed kisses down your neck. “Always wanted to do this.” And once he started, it was like Satoru just couldn’t stop, rambling into the valley of your breasts, “Ever since I first saw you and oh-”

That was it - only one look at your panties, all flimsy and drenched - and you’re back to wondering what Satoru’s kill count would be. You shudder as his eyes widen, letting out a strangled gasp from some deep, primal part of himself. Voice so broken and starved as he muses, “-can’t believe I waited this long.”

Shit. You weren’t making it out alive.

Immediately, Satoru’s dropping further down the mattress, easily pushing your knees up all the way till they were at your breasts. 

And it was so unfair. 

Unhair how he was still fully clothed, while you were spread so shamefully. Unfair how he was sliding his underneath your panties up and down, grazing your swollen folds. Up and down, up and down up and- Pooling your sweet sweet juices on his fingertips before pulling, marveling at how sinfully soaked they were. 

And it was like something snapped - maybe his whatever restraint he had left, probably you by the end of this. Because just a split-second later, Satoru’s tearing right through your panties. Not even taking a second to breathe before burying his pretty face into your dripping cunt. 

Unfair how you were liking it so dangerously. Being so used. 

And Satoru knows - he thinks, with whatever rationality he has left intact - that he wants to admire your pretty lil’ cunt. To finally drink in what he’s been dreaming about for years all these lonely nights. But, no, that’s for later - for a different Satoru, one that didn’t feel like he was going to fucking die if he didn’t taste you right now. 

“Ah! Hngh- T-Toru-” you arch into his hot tongue, as he licks erratically up your folds, long, sloppy movements of his tongue all the way from your base to your swollen clit. Lapping at your juices like he couldn’t stop.

“Tha’s right.” words muffled into your cunt. Throwing your legs over his sculpted shoulders. “Gimme more, use me. Use me- fuck fuck fuck- yeah.”

He sounded as delirious as you were already, flinching with each word spat into your sensitive cunt. Drunk off your pussy and so messy, like he was well and fully intent on ruining you. 

And it’s all you can do to sob so needily as he swirls his tongue around your sensitive clit. Seemingly unable to decide between sucking on it harshly and dipping into your sloppy hole. In and out. Wanting everything. Anything. 

“Fuck. S’too deep. Sh-shit.”

“Oh yeah?” he’s grinning, a cruel, cold little grin. You can feel it as he rolls his tongue against your clit over and over. “S’not deep enough.”

You pathetically try to close your legs around his head in shock, as the tips of his long fingers spread open your pussy further, teasing your entrance. 

But who were you against the strongest? The one that got everything handed to him on a silver platter since birth? Except you - until now, that is.

Because Satoru’s swatting thighs back open like it was a mere inconvenience, and feel your cunt clench in- fear? Anticipation? as you realize how gently he was throwing you around like a ragdoll, in comparison to that door from earlier. 

“No.” he sounds absolutely wrecked, babbling around your throbbing clit. “Need this- need you.”

And then he’s plunging knuckle-deep in your plushy pussy, so greedily that your slick is trailing down his wrist. Drinking in your pretty gasps of his name as he roams for that one spot he knows will have you seeing stars - only the best for his girl, right? The only thing on his mind right now, like a predator starved.

You can only tug on his hair and buck wildly underneath him, inching Satoru closer to where he was desperately searching for. Close - so close. 

“Toru-” you moan, like a prayer. 

But it wasn’t fast enough. 

Not for Satoru, at least.

Even through the haze in your eyes, you could make out that brief flash of electric blue in-between your legs, eyes widening as ah-

That cheat. 

You wondered if he even knew he was using his powers right now. Or whether Satoru was too far gone at this point. Way too smug with the way he hits that one spot. Hard. 

Ah, you quiver as something so dark sparks in his eyes. Looking like a man starved, that had finally come across his favorite meal. Moving with frightening accuracy as he pumps his fingers in and out, hitting it each and every time. 

“Shit, ngh-” you let out a shrill moan, “It’s too good. You’re so fucking-” 

One hand was so messy toying with your dripping entrance - the other digging into your hips. Dragging your sloppy pussy senselessly all over his mouth. 

Hard enough that you were sure it’d leave marks for tomorrow. If you even made it that long, that is, if the tiny shocks of electricity at his fingertips told you anything. 

Desperate. Violent, even.

So it only makes sense that your orgasm was the same. “Fuck- m’cumming m’cumming, fuck fuck fuck-” You’re shaking as you cum, crying out Satoru’s name and delirious little moans that you’d otherwise be embarrassed of. 

And he doesn’t stop. Not when you’re blinking your vision back. Not when you’re shying away from his tongue, the stars behind your eyes too much with each flick of his tongue. 

“S’too much- too- fuck, sensitive, Toru.” you whine, big fat tears clinging to your lashes. 

Ah, there it was again. Just when Satoru was beginning to think that he might just be veering into a state of mind that could be considered sane - you have to call him that goddamn nickname again. And it’s only driving him wild. 

Well, he muses, fumbling with the hem of his t-shirt, it’s really on you then. 

You let out a fucked-out little whine as Satoru finally takes his shirt off, revealing such milky, toned skin. All sharp curves and dips like he was sculpted so meticulously, going down, down, down and- Your breath hitches at the large, pink scar standing out of his torso, so uneven and fresh that you feel a fresh wave of tears - different ones, this time. 

You take a steadying breath, eyes unmoving from the injury. “Satoru-”

“No.” Satoru’s tone is firm, so different from the metallic tinkling of his belt. He was moving now, shifting in between your legs to kiss those tears away. “Need this. Need you. Need you need you need you so bad-”

“But your…” you trail off. The words catch in your throat as he finally unbuckles his belt, pulling down his pants just enough that his throbbing cock springs out, hitting his sculpted abdomen. Red, and so so angry, soaked in precum. 

He was so…massive. Now, you expected your best friend to have a big dick, but this was ridiculous. He was so intimidatingly long, thick enough that you could feel the slick beading out of your sloppy hole already.

Yeah, you definitely weren’t making it out alive. 

Satoru sees it too, of course, because his cock twitches furiously. A low hiss leaving those pretty pink lips before he’s spitting on your quivering cunt. Once. Twice. 

And you know that if this shameless bastard could use six eyes to find your g-spot, then he could’ve done the same for this. But, no, he lets some of it miss, splattering against your inner thigh, smearing all over as Satoru thumbs in his saliva with your slick. 

God, he was treating you like some object. Wordlessly throwing your legs over his shoulders, dragging his weeping tip down your swollen folds. So fucking filthy. 

And then you feel like you’re been split apart - because Gojo Satoru was unforgiving. As was his aching cock. He’s barely even pressing through the first ring of muscle, and you already feel like he’s pushing all the way into your lungs. 

“T-Toru.” you yelp, glancing down at the way your pussy was stretched so lewdly around his thick cock. Quivering as he keeps pushing and pushing and- no mercy. Absolutely none at all. “Can feel you so deep inside ngh- I don’t think I can…” 

“No no no no no-” he’s panting into your open mouth. Fucking into your heavenly cunt in mindless, shallow little thrusts just to squeeze deeper inside. “Need this. Want this. Always did. God, fuck fuck fuck, you can do it-”

“But-”

God, Satoru can’t help but kiss you - to shut those cute lil’ whines up more than anything, he’s sure he’ll cum right there and right now if he didn’t. 

Because Satoru wasn’t any better. Body bowing into yours, eyes rolling to the back of his head, mouth falling into a delirious oh! as he finally bottoms out. Balls smacking your ass too hard, your pussy too tight, you too beautiful underneath him. 

Blindly, he reaches for the headboard - white-knuckling it so hard that it’s a wonder it doesn’t break. 

It does - and later you’ll find a pile of splinters behind the bed. It’s just that neither of you notice. Too high off the feeling of Satoru’s cock pushing inside you. You’re clawing at his back now, gasping for air. Letting him fold you in half to filthily lick away the tears pooling at your cheeks. 

“Shit- y’got this, my love. You gotta- ah- Breathe-” he can’t even speak properly, sharp tongue so heavy. Eyes glowing with such insanity as he rocks his hips harder into yours.

He was right - you needed to breathe. To finally wrap your head around the fact that this was Satoru - your best friend - the same one that binge-watches sappy rom-coms with you after every breakup. Every. Single. One. Somehow, you wouldn’t have it any other way. 

Both of you were barely-lucid at this point. And he was out of control now.

Funny, how in all his dreams when you were screaming his name - Satoru was always suave, methodical, playing with your pretty pussy like a fine instrument. Right now, he was anything but. Sloppy - like he didn’t have enough time, never would, even in this room where time slowed.

“Don’t you run away.” he grunts at the way you’re so adorably torn between running away from his cock and bucking for more more more- “Waited twelve fucking years for this. N’ m’gonna take it.”

You almost sob at the pressure as he laces his fingers on top of your head to slide you impossibly deeper. Down, down, down. “S’too good, Toru. Wan’ more-”

“More.” Satoru breathes, more to himself than anything. Eyes widening almost comically, a fucked-out smile spreading all over his face. “Y’want more even when you’re filled to-” He traces an invisible line halfway down your tummy. “Here?”

“Yes.” you gasp as he reaches down to toy with your throbbing clit, drawing tight, frenzied little circles. Balls smacking your ass so painfully, thumb pressing down right where his tip was hitting your cervix - as if he used six eyes to see. “Always wanted more. Always have, Toru.”

And you swear you could see something physically snap inside Satoru. Because his eyes glaze over, grin dropping instantly from his face. 

If you weren’t so cockdrunk maybe you’d have caught the way the bedroom lights flicker, the one down the hallway bursting. 

“Always, huh?” he’s muttering, grip on your body tightening like a vice. “Wanted more like me?” Rocking into you so sloppily, cock twitching so painfully as he speeds up. Fingers just as desperate - as depraved as his hips.

And this time, he doesn’t even have to use six eyes to find that one spot. Knowing your body well enough to hit it over and over until you were sobbing. “More more more more- fuckin’ take it then.”

At this point you didn’t know whether Satoru was always this ruthless in bed or you’d just broken him. It felt so good that it was almost scary. And your delirious mind wandered into the thought that maybe the bed would break - and your bones to follow. 

Well, they would have if Satoru hadn’t been using reversed cursed technique. But you didn’t need to know that just yet. 

“Satoru-” you squeal as he only gets more erratic.  “I’m…”

“Close?” Satoru’s grunting, smacking his lips against your own.

It’s laughable, really, that muffled question - because Satoru knew you were close. Losing his fucking mind, actually, at how you were squeezing so hard around him. Balls squeezing so painfully right now, but he wanted you to cum first - needed you to cum first.

“Yeah, so close. Wan’ cum- Ah! Please-”

“Then cum. Fucking cum, wan’ed this so bad.” he’s babbling deliriously. Little sparks of lightning visible even to your glassy eyes, fingers humming with a dangerous little energy that stimulated you so good. “Yeah, yeah yeah yeah fucking cum, wanna hngh-”

And then you are. So sudden and hard that you don’t even realize it at first. Just that you’re seeing stars behind your eyes, blood roaring in your ears. Rocking your hips into Satoru’s like such a slut. 

Oh, if heaven was really then the part of Satoru that can still form coherent thoughts thinks this just might be it. 

Because only the sight of you creaming all around his swollen cock and he’s cumming and cumming so hard that it hurts. Thick, hot ropes of cum that he can’t seem to stop. Doesn’t want to stop, and God he thinks he could cum until you beg and beg and beg it’s too much. Until you’re yelling for-

“Mercy!” you moan, head spinning with how fucking overfilled your pussy was. “Please, Toru-”

Satoru lets out a slight gasp, “Mercy?” Chuckling so cruelly at your dazed nod, “No mercy, my love. None at all.”

And God, it was so fucking hard to look at him too - eyes half-lidded and miles away, flushed and looking like he was anywhere but laid out on a hospital bed just a few minutes ago. In fact, Satoru looked like he was in heaven on Earth as he only milked his painfully hard cock on your snug pussy.

Pretty. Always so fucking pretty. 

And he kept whispering that, over and over in your ear as you both ride out your highs. Oh how he loved you.

Your eyes fly open, and Satoru knew he’d said that out loud. Shit. But, well, with the way you were immediately pulling him to collapse into your arms, he thinks he really doesn’t mind.

“Love you, love you. Love you so much. Always did, always wanted to love you- to fuck you.” You barely even notice him marking down your neck, sharp canines digging into the flesh like he wanted to break something. Hard enough that you distinctly wondered whether he was out for blood. “To ruin you.”

It was oozing out of you, both Satoru’s cum - dribbling down your legs in thick globs, pooling on the overpriced sheets below - and his power. Jolts of electricity running down all the way from your poor, abused cunt to your hazy mind. 

“So do it.” The air was crackling - crackling with intensity and the smell of jujutsu. It was in your veins, in your words as you whisper, “Ruin me. You’re the- ngh- only- one f’me, Toru. Always was.”

The lights go out. All of them - all across Tokyo, in fact. Shining so bright that it was blinding, until they burst. The last thing you see are his eyes - electrified with blue lightning, burning into your brain. 

And then it’s black. 

---

“I’ll be back before ya know it, my love.” he whispers against your forehead, cooing at the way you stir sleepily. “Gotta pest to take care of.”

Taking down that curtain wasn’t the hard part, the hard part was actually fucking regaining his senses enough to do so. 

And now, all cleaned up and fucked to sleep on his bed, you were looking so unbearably delectable that it made some part of Satoru just want to stay behind this curtain. To forget the waiting sorcerers on the battlefield. Saving the world be damned.

Well, no matter, Satoru had time. He was the strongest, right? After all, how could he give you the world if there was no world to give?

“N’ when I’m back, m’gonna kiss ya to death till you go out with me. Till everyone knows you’re unmistakably mine.”

A/N. GET IT - that unmistakable bit from the panel? 

Plagiarism not authorized.

[mostly-imagines]

Banished

jason todd x fem!reader

aka jason misses his girlfriend

warnings: extremely mild angst, he’s just mopey (he’s fine)

Jason sits slumped over the kitchen island, head lying in his crossed arms. His now soggy cereal disregarded after barely a few bites.

Dick’s been rummaging through the cabinets for the better part of twenty minutes while Tim has sat atop of the nook table shoving donuts in his mouth for the better part of thirty.

Damian trudges into the room, past them and onto the nook bench, taking out a knife and beginning to whittle away at a block of wood.

He glances at Jason with a scowl. “If you’re going to be so miserable, can’t you do it in your own home?”

Jason just grunts.

He wishes. You and Bruce had conspired to trap him at the mansion for the week so he could heal from injuries sustained during the last mission without risk of him suiting up and sneaking away from you in the middle of the night.

But it’s not even the fact that he’s basically being babysat that’s got him so disgruntled. He secretly wouldn’t really mind it at all if you were here too. But you were dead set that the manor was too far out of your way for work, so you’d stayed behind. A lose-lose for Jason.

“He’s just mad his girlfriend kicked him out,” Dick teases, swiping through the fridge.

Tim snorts from the doorway, “Me too. He’s a lot more depressing on his own.”

Jason keeps his head down as he blindly reaches for the spoon in his cereal and chucks it at Tim’s head.

Tim catches it without thought, continuing, “A lot more irritable, at least. Why isn’t she here?”

“She’s gotta work,” Dick says, scanning through the pantry.

Damian peeps his head up from his project. “But Todd has a rather large supply of less than legally obtained money, does he not?”

“Yeah, but she said she wants to pay her own rent, I think,” Dicks hums, finally giving up on his quest for a snack.

Damian pauses.

“So she wants to live in a tiny apartment?” He asks, a mixture of confused and horrified.

“Watch your mouth,” Jason mumbles.

“It was a genuine question!” Damian protests, face screwed up.

Jason finally lifts his head up, turning to his little brother with a raised brows. “And I’m genuinely going to break your nose.”

It’s an empty threat, maybe. But it was enough to shut Damian up anyways. Jason turns back to his cereal and swishes the bowl around.

Dick rests his arms on the counter across from Jason and speaks lowly. “You know, it is just a few days. She’s coming back.”

“Yeah, whatever.”

Jason was never one for showing his feelings—let alone talking about them.

He misses you, plain and simple. Dick could see that much clearly, though the longing looked unfamiliar on Jason.

Bruce lingers in the hallway, just past the island, listening.

He’ll admit (to himself) that he’s worried about Jason. It’s been three days and Jason has yet to show a crack in this demeanor. And while it’s not uncommon for him to stow himself away, there is something quite wrong with the way he hasn’t countered his brother’s jabs at him or teased them.

And while he could do without the blatant threats, he’s proud to hear his son defending his girlfriend, even over trivial things. It’s one of the few moments where he feels like he did right by him as a father.

And now here’s his son, caring about someone else more than he cares about himself. Someone who’s a good person, no less. It had been your idea to trick Jason into staying at the manor, you were scared that he would push his body past its limit when you couldn’t do anything to help.

Bruce knew you didn’t feel great about basically banishing him for the week but he could see that you just wanted what was best for Jason. He could see it so clearly. Maybe Bruce could never have been a perfect father, could never have given his son everything he needed despite having more money than he could ever use. Maybe he couldn’t help him, even now.

But you could.

Bruce peers around the corner, leaning up against the doorframe.

He watches Damian give up on carving at his block and start into the leg of the table.

He watches the bickering that broke out after Tim grab the last glazed donut, which was apparently the only thing Dick could possibly fathom eating.

And he watches Jason.

As Jason’s phone lights up on the counter next to him. He glances down at it with a frown before his face absolutely lights up.

He scrambles to pick the phone up and starts typing away. A quiet action that catches the attention of all of his brothers.

He types and types, waits for ten seconds for a response and types and types again—smile on his face.

The Waynes didn’t need to be the greatest detectives in the world to know who he was texting.

✨ reblog fics or face the block button ✨

[hairmetal666]

It's Wayne that goes with him when he buys the truck. He offers to go with him. Uses one of his few days off to do it.

On the way there, it strikes Steve that his own father would never do this with him. The man hadn't even bought the Beemer himself, just sent an assistant to take care of it. And here Wayne is, driving them to a used car dealership, humming along to some old country-western song on the radio.

It takes three dealerships for them to find it, but Wayne is patient, stoic, takes careful note of the cars that catch Steve's interest. He asks the salesman if he can pop the hood, peers at the engine, kicks the tires. He asks questions Steve would never think of, about adjustments to the odometer, history of repairs, if it was in any accidents.

Steve never considered wanting a truck, doesn't think it's his style. But he's walking the lot at the third dealership, and he sees it. It's a Chevy, blue and white, a few years old. It's in good condition, but was obviously used for work.

He walks towards it.

"You like this one?" Wayne asks. If he's surprised, he doesn't show it.

"Yeah, it's--yeah," Steve nods.

Wayne does his checks, asks his questions, gives a nod of approval.

It's the first car he takes on a test drive.

He barely has it on the road before he knows it's the one. It surprises him. He always thought he was his true self in the BMW, but now--the engine has a throaty grumble to it, can feel it rumbling through his foot on the pedal, and it's--it's--perfect.

"This it?" Wayne asks as they pull back into the lot.

"Yeah, yes. It's. Yeah."

"Well, let's get to hagglin."

Wayne is, of course, an expert haggler. By the end of it, he's got a couple thousand dollars knocked off the asking price, Steve more than within budget.

They drive back to Wayne's little house on the outskirts of Hawkins, the one the government gave him, the sun just disappearing behind the horizon.

Eddie stands on the small porch, wide smile on his face.

"Wow, Wayne," he says. He wraps an arm around his uncle's shoulders. "You really did a number on him."

"It's a solid vehicle, Ed."

"Never took you for a truck man, Harrington," Eddie teases.

"Can't you see how gorgeous she is?"

Eddie raises an eyebrow, his smile not faltering. "Wow, it's true love then."

"Looks like it. Wanna come for a ride?"

There's only a second where Eddie hesitates, but then he's running inside to grab shoes, tripping on his way to the truck.

---

It happened like this:

Eddie Munson died in the Upside Down in 1986.

He's reanimated by Vecna for the final battle, a puppet to do his master's bidding.

When they win, when Vecna is dead in a pile of dessicated vines, they can't find Eddie. Scour the Upside Down for him and come up empty. They have to assume he's dead, like everything else there, kept alive only by Vecna's power. None of them want to leave without him, but the world is destabilized, they can't stay, El has to close the gates.

That night, Steve pulls the battle vest from under his bed, sobs into the blood-soaked denim, the grief from the loss just as fresh as March of '86.

He and the kids, they go visit Wayne. It becomes a regular thing.

Two weeks after the end of Vecna, Wayne calls him. He's panicked, near hysterical, nothing like the man Steve's come to know.

He goes, fast as he can, to Wayne's house. All the lights are off, the front door ajar, and he runs, clattering into the living room.

Wayne is in the recliner, face pale and strained, and on the couch--on the couch--

Eddie Munson.

His hair's lank, his skin sallow, the light in his eyes dim, but it's him. Unquestionably.

Steve does the only thing he can think of, calls Hopper. He shows up a little while later with El and Will.

"I called Owens," Hopper says.

"Why would you do that?" Steve is angry.

"Look, kid, I get it. But none of us are equipped to deal with this."

He's right, so they wait.

It doesn't take the doctor, El, and Will long to figure that Eddie is Eddie, even though his heart beats a little slow and his skin's always cold and his blood is slightly the wrong color. He's still at least 75% human, and that's enough.

Only those six people know. It's dangerous to tell anyone else when the world still thinks Eddie Munson is a serial murderer. Owens asks for time to clear his name, and they have no choice but to agree.

After two days, Steve thinks he should give Eddie and Wayne space, but as he rises to go, Eddie's hand grips his wrist. "Stay?" He asks. Steve doesn't leave.

It's hard, keeping the secret from the rest of the kids, Robin. He wants to tell her, more than anything. About how they share a bed most nights, how he's memorizing the shape of Eddie's body in a way he shouldn't, how the gentle desire turns to profound longing--but Eddie's safety is the most important thing, so Steve keeps it to himself.

---

They go out in Steve's truck almost every night, always on backroads. It's the only way Eddie can leave the house.

It's Steve's favorite thing, the only time Eddie seems truly happy. They roll the windows down, turn the music up, and whip around deserted farm roads. Sometimes, Eddie will stick his head out the window, shout out into the night.

Steve is in love with him.

He has no idea if Eddie feels the same, figures it doesn't matter. He'll harbor this flame for the rest of his life without complaint because Eddie is alive.

He thinks he's done a good job at hiding his feelings, thinks he's able to avert his gaze, hide his blush, when Eddie comes out of his room in only his boxers, thinks Eddie hasn't noticed how Steve's eyes linger when they share joints lying in the bed of the truck.

Except tonight--tonight--they're driving back home, and Eddie, he's been quiet, distant, fidgety, and now he reaches out to turn down the radio, which has Steve's stomach in a knot.

"You--Steve, you've been so great. To me and Wayne, and--you're family, you know? To us, you're--but--"

And Steve thinks this is it, that Eddie noticed, that he's being let down easy, and he wants to throw up, cry, but Eddie's still talking.

"You have a life to live, right? You're--you're 23 and you're not stuck here like me, and I know Robin is ready to go and the kids are--they're going to college soon, and you shouldn't stay here for me, I'm--"

"What?" Steve says.

"What?" Eddie echoes.

"I don't want to leave," Steve says.

"But--"

"Where you are is where I want to be."

"I'm in love with you," Eddie says. Cover his face with his hands.

Steve pulls the truck to the shoulder. His hands are shaking.

"You love me?"

"I'm sorry." His apology is muffled. "I didn't mean--I know this fucks up--"

"Eddie." He says, soft. "Look at me?"

One deep brown eye peers up at him. "Eddie, I--I'm hopelessly in love with you."

Both eyes now, mouth a bright curve. "You mean it, Harrington?"

"Fuck, can't get enough of you, Munson."

"You know, if I thought for a second anything like was possible, I would've--fuck, I would've made a move ages ago. I would've--"

"Shut-up," he whispers against Eddie's mouth. "Kiss me."

---

And later, Robin will ask if he has someone, and he'll say yes, and she'll ask, soft, "is it him?" and he'll nod, and they'll both cry.

Later, a news report, Eddie Munson's body was recovered from the bottom of Sattler Quarry, bearing the same wounds as Vecna's other victims.

Later, Chief Powell will hold a press conference, say they're looking for a man named Henry Creel, wanted on suspicion of killing his mother and sister and the aggravated assault of his father with an MO that matches the 1986 killing spree.

Later, Steve will shave Eddie's head, Eddie crying softly as the hair tumbles to the bathroom floor. Steve will kiss the tears away, one by one, say, "I know it's hard to let go. But we'll move away, to a place where people say 'you look like that guy, that Eddie Munson,' and you'll say, 'I get that a lot,' and your hair will grow back, if you want it to."

Later, they'll invite everyone to Wayne's , everyone except Dustin, busy in Boston with an internship, and Eddie will be there to welcome them.

Later, he and Eddie will take the truck, drive up to Boston. And Eddie, he'll spy Dustin first, walks up to him and says, "Pretty metal tattoos, little dude," and they'll all cry until Dustin stops to yell at them for keeping the secret.

Later, Steve and Eddie will leave MIT--Dustin screeching that they have to call him every night promptly at 8pm still ringing in their ears-- in search of their future.

[moonchild1]

jeon jungkook fic rec list (Ⅺ)

hi everyone i am back and boy has there been some amazing fics posted while i was away it's awaken that spark in me again and this list is honestly packed, i went over like 60 fics for this one and i even added some of my ult. faves. the ones i have to mention again because they are just so amazing, trust me you will be going back for more over and over again too. you might notice some fics from ao3 and wattpad included as well they are hold a special place in my heart, they are masterpieces that need to be shared with you guys so please enjoy this new list and give all the authors mentioned all the love and respect they deserve seriously they work so hard on creating these beautiful fics and they deserve all the attention and gratitude we can offer them so please share your love through a like, comment and reblog them so they can feel the love and more people can find their masterlists and accounts because they have some really good fics there as well.

I just wanna send an honourable mention to every single writer i have added to this list without you i would not have so much happiness when i come on this app and you have filled my heart and countless others with so much joy and happiness we appreciate you more than you will ever know and you make being here 10 times better your stories help us through alot and puts smiles on our faces and we get to spend time with a community of people who love what we love and we get to interact because of your ideas and it creates such an amazing experience so thank you for everything that you do the worlds you create and the ideas you come up and for sharing it all with us i adore you so much and you are just the best so once again thank you for everything and i look forward to what so many of you have planned - kiki ♡

NO MINORS ALLOWED PLEASE DON'T INTERACT!

happy reading everyone i hope you enjoy this extra long list of my faves and please remember to be happy and keep on smiling and interact if you want i love hearing from you guys and if you want you can send me a few of your faves 🥹🖤✨

f - fluff s-smut a - angst

series

yuanfen by @azurefangirl AzureFangirll s a unrequited love slow burn brother's best friend arranged marriage dadjk widower jk (315k) ao3

⋆ Yuanfen (yuánfèn), "fateful coincidence," is a concept in Chinese and Vietnamese societies describing good and bad chances and potential relationships. Koi No Yokan (Japanese): the feeling upon first meeting someone that you will inevitably fall in love with them. You did not know what was stupider, falling head over heels for your older brother's best friend the day you saw him, or agreeing to marry him after his wife died. Either way, you're now stuck with Jungkook whom you've loved since before you hit puberty, who can't stand the sight of you. Will he ever feel the same way, or does he just see you as the replacement mother for his infant?

lines of fate by @kookiestarlight s a exes au zombie apocalypses tattooist jk

⋆ the last thing Jungkook ever imagined was an outbreak that turned the dead into the living. But even more unexpected is seeing you—an ex he’s known nothing about in the past four years—with a small child who bears a striking resemblance to himself. As Jungkook grapples with the shock and the city spirals into chaos, the two of you are thrust back together, forced to confront unresolved feelings, long-buried truths, and the horrors of the deadly virus taking over.

lost stars by @hueseok f a roommates e2l slow burn college au (33.2k)

⋆ the last person you’d expect to be there for you is your roommate, jeongguk, on the night you break up with your cheating boyfriend; because as far as you’re concerned, the both of you aren’t exactly friends, and he definitely shouldn’t be running to get you upon hearing you sob via phone call.so when he does, you begin thinking that maybe you’ve just been hard on him over the years, or perhaps he just liked pretending to be an annoying shit most of the time. either way, it becomes the beginning of an unexpected friendship finally blossoming.

a lovers kiss by @/hueseok f s a fwb i2l college au (55.6k)

⋆ a friends with benefits relationship never ends on a good note. unless, both parties are not dumb fucks who find themselves falling for each other along the way of their agreement, of course. and in yours and jeongguk’s case, you should have known better than to think the two of you would be an exception to the so-called curse of being friends with benefits with someone you already hold dear to you, since not even five months since it was agreed upon—the line between being only friends and being a little like lovers only continue to get hazier and hazier.

hell is empty by @aquagustd f s a ft.kth love triangle dadJK exJK CEO kth (164.4k)

⋆ life has a tendency to throw things your way when you least expect it, when you’re content, and the ominous presence knows exactly how to steer your existence back into the darkness.

to the stars by arckook (ao3) a zombie apocalypse (94.6k)

⋆ It was always you, and Jimin, and your best friend Jihyun. But fate, regardless of whether you believed in it or not, had other plans for you. Jimin told you once, "It's a tough road to the stars." Nowadays it was hard to believe the stars were somewhere you could reach.

moirai by norabean (ao3) f s a soulmates slow burn (95.2k)

⋆ On your 18th birthday a name appears on your wrist. The name of your soulmate. It’s a momentous day that everyone looks forward to, but you’ve always brushed aside; refusing to believe in a fickle mistress called destiny. But what happens when on the morning of your 18th birthday you wake to find the name of your mortal enemy? Jeon Jungkook.

from home by @yuzukult f s a e2l richkid jk fakedating au (89.5k)

⋆ a rich kid who gets cut off from family money meets an average post-grad girl who may be the key to getting him back on his parents’ good side.

and they were roommates by @hoseok666 f s a ft. kth e2l love triangle tsundere jk s2l (103.k+)

⋆ it all started with a rejection from your longtime crush, jeon jungkook. you decided to confess to him on your last day of high school. after a harsh rejection and a rough summer dealing with the heartbreak, you were starting anew once your freshman year of college came. you were going to be sharing an apartment with two other roommates that you don’t even know. what a surprise you’re going to be in for once you find out it’s the one and only: jeon jungkook and kim taehyung.

future hearts by @jungblue f s a ft. pjm punk jikook s2l band au f2l lost love (114.6k)

⋆ It was everything, from his tattoos, to his touches, to the way sweat rolled down his neck as he strummed into his guitar on stage; everything about him completely enthralled you. So why are you now, two and a half years later, on a train to Seoul, telling a complete stranger the recollection of how you became fated to forever have scars on all of your future hearts due to the happiness, but most of all the pain, that came along with falling in love with Jeon Jungkook.

mind games by @yerion f a tsundere jk roommates au (31.8k)

⋆ jungkook drives you to think strict criticism isn’t too bad, purely because you didn’t expect things to turn a bit steamier than intended. as the one and only female esports player, misery was at your fingertip when your skills suddenly deteriorated. however, the stoic leader of your team—jungkook, simply couldn’t sit back. he puts you back on track, yet no one told you sparks would fly; and the crazy fact that it’s inevitable

heartbeat by @xbaepsae s a ft myg unrequited love (24.9k)

⋆ “You fell in love with a boy who was in love with music, and you weren’t sure if he was capable of loving you the same way. This thought should’ve caused you to move away from him; but, if anything, it just drew you closer.“

one year, my love by @hayjeon f s a historical/royal au 100 days my prince kdrama (31k)

⋆ You forge a marriage contract with the strangely speaking man who suddenly stumbled into your town with memory loss, but little do you know that he’s actually the lost Crown Prince, and a lot can happen between a married man and woman in one year. 

the love prognosis by @awrkive f s a medical au roommates f2l (90.7k)

⋆ for as long as you can remember, you've always been a hopeless romantic. the girl who’s always dreamt of cheesy encounters with her soulmate, grand love declarations, and a cute little beach wedding to boot. but reality pretty much slaps you hard right on the face, because love, unfortunately, doesn’t come grand — it’s simple and it’s quiet, but it is quite painful, especially when the love that you’ve been seeking for all your adult life has just been right under your nose all this time.

ever a never after by @yoonia s ft. ksj enchanted au (51.8+k)

⋆ Some say fate can be a cruel thing. Yet you never knew how true it was until fate played a hand in your bad luck. Merely moments before your happily ever after, you are suddenly sent out to a weird place. A different world. You wonder if this is a test from fate to see if you are truly deserving of your happy ending, or if perhaps fate wants to show you something else. Something that fate wishes you to learn before you can finally move on to take the next step towards your happiness.

between takes by @jeonstudios f s a fluffer au porn star au (74.6k)

⋆ as a fluffer for a popular porn star, your focus is to keep him hard and performing on set. turns out he's not the only thing that's hard

Shatter With Me by @colormepurplex2 f s a surrogate au best friends husband (46.4k)

⋆ Your best friend, Jiyoon, and her husband, Jungkook, have faced years of hardship trying to start a family. In a last-ditch effort to have their dream life, they seek solace in surrogacy. Wanting to see your best friend smile, you offer to become the bright beacon at the end of the tunnel, giving them what they have always wanted. But what happens when you begin to shine your light on their darkness? Things aren’t always as they seem—happiness can be a façade, shattering under the lightest pressure.

Chasing Cars by @oddinary4bts f s a college au brother best friend forbidden love (218.5k)

⋆ when your brother goes to study on a semester abroad, your life collides with his best friend Jeon Jungkook, who's coincidentally your roommate. Will you survive the collision, or will you crumble into dust?

hold me close by @ahundredtimesover f s a brother best friend (41.8k)

⋆ When you're asked to look after your parents' house and meet them before they go on vacation, you, Jimin, and Jungkook take the trip to your hometown of Busan and relive memories of your youth. While your new relationship has you feeling like a lovesick teenager with all the affection that Jungkook shows you, you're still you - a professional trying to make it in the corporate world, and an eldest child trying not to disappoint her parents. And that turns out to be your undoing, as a little blunder causes a rift between you and Jungkook, resulting in a trip that you might as well have messed up… Not if your brother can help it, though

sugar high by @yeojaa f a idol au childhood best friends unrequited love (33.3k)

⋆ You thought you’d known real love and maybe you had - it just wasn’t with who you thought.

the law of attraction by @jexnkookie f s a lawyer jk girl of his dreams (26.9k)

⋆ Throughout his life, Jung Kook has only ever loved one girl. Despite her being out of his league and of an elite class that he wasn't born into, he fell hard, keeping his feelings a closely guarded secret. When they parted ways, and Jung Kook pursued his law career, he did so with the intent of moving on. But when she unexpectedly arrives back into his life, Jung Kook finds himself once again face to face with his own insecurities, and the girl of his dreams.

love bug by @here4kpopfics f s a established relationship (30.4k)

⋆ A collection of stories and drabbles with my comfort couple Jungkook and Love Bug as I affectionally call her. They were my first couple to write in over a decade and I hold them very close to my heart.

sh by @wwilloww f s a ot7 f2l (118k)

⋆ Six months of quarantine have kept you apart. Somehow the distance sparks something new in each of you: questions, unfinished conversations, threads once chased now left cold. So when your roommate invites you to come with him to a mysterious house in the mountains with your friends, how could you even think of saying no?

bloodlines entwined by @spideyjimin f s a s2l soulmates werewolf au royalty au (30.8+)

⋆ having a baby alone was supposed to be easy. but an accidental twist of fate pulled you into a hidden world of werewolves, and ancient bloodlines. navigating your already complicated life becomes even harder as you uncover your past; one tied to a legacy you never knew existed. and in the middle of this chaos stands jungkook, the werewolf king… and the father of your child.  

jump then fall (into you) by @writtenwhalien f s a bf2l fake dating (52k)

⋆ bringing Jungkook along as your date to your ex’s lavish cruise wedding seemed like a perfect idea at first — all of your family and close friends together, nothing can go wrong… then Jungkook’s ex shows up and all of a sudden you’re in a years long relationship with him. You don’t mind though, really, how hard can sharing a cabin and pretending to be deeply in love with your best friend really be?

not in that way by @girlygguk f s a ft. myg unrequited love bf2l (30k)

⋆ in which you're hopelessly in love with your best friend, min yoongi. meanwhile, your other best friend, jeon jungkook, is hopelessly in love with you.

live through this by @starshapedkookie f s a band au exes to frenemies to lovers (46.5k)

⋆ A record deal. The one thing Violet needed to become the next big rockstars. As the front-woman to the band, life couldn’t have been any easier for you. That is until a devastating life event changes everything for you, leaving you heartbroken and in a downward spiral you can’t get out of. With your biggest competitor, Whailen 52 on your heels, your bandmates worried about the future, and your ex Jeon Jungkook being your only solace; you weren’t sure if you were going to live through this to see your dreams come to fruition.

a story that we paint by @thedefinitionofbts f a ft.kth college au scifi au (25k)

⋆ in which the lines between virtual and reality are blurred.

crimson park by heartbeatan f s a e2l crime au(159.6k)

angel in the darkness by @icyhobi s a mafia au prostitution au

⋆ after a patient urgently pleads you to go and help a friend of his, you naively agree to it. little did you know, that you would get more than what you agreed to, when he leads you to a brothel, to help a dangerous prostitute named jeon jungkook.

one night stand by @buryhny f s a ceo au e2l (382k)

⋆ as if the unexpected twist of a one-night stand turning out to be your CEO boss wasn't surreal enough, the situation takes a more challenging turn when both of you discover that you're expecting his child.

the alpha omega series by @borathae f s a childhood best friends to enemies to lovers werewolf au (40.8k)

⋆ Jungkook is the son of the pack Alpha and therefore heir of the titel. You are an omega and utterly out of his league. This is the story of how, against all odds, you and he became true mates.

4-7-8 by @jiminrings a marriage au (73k+)

⋆ you’re secure when it comes to loving jungkook, knowing that your husband loves you beyond words. what you aren’t so secure about is his first love — someone who isn’t you. alternatively, jungkook’s married to you, but he still celebrates his anniversary with his ex out of sentimentality.

netflix & chill by @1kook f s blindate collge au (113.7+)

 ⋆ If you planned things right, you could rain down your raging displeasure on Jeon Jungkook right after the meal but before this proposed ‘Netflix and chilling,’ maybe dramatically throw your glass of wine at him, before storming out of his place and reporting him to the authorities (Namjoon) for his douchebag personality.

the bad blind date by ravsisrekt f s a idol au f2l (wattpad)

⋆ Being set up on a date is hard as it is. But being set up on a date where the boy you're with loves your best friend is even harder-and trust me, being bubbly, cute, and incredibly hilarious doesn't work on him either…but on the other members it certainly does.

sns by narcotichobi f s a idol au s2l (wattpad)

⋆ Jae is a twenty-one year old Korean-American university student whose life is just ordinary. Struggling through the confines of cultural differences between her lifestyle and ethnicity, Jae finds herself through social media outlets and the integration of k-pop into her American life. Jungkook is a twenty year old singer, dancer and producer of the Korean-Pop idol group, BTS (방탄소년단). He works over twelve hours a day and has almost every second of his life circulating around social media. Jungkook, with newly found dating privileges, is slow to trust another person with his personal life and thoughts. Follow Jae and Jungkook through a love-story heavily motivated by social media and press

40 weeks by magicalmochii f s a teeange pregnancy f2l (wattpad)

⋆ They didn't want to be virgins when they graduated. Two friends agree to let go of their innocence together, no strings attached. Life had other plans.

unconditionally by magicalmochii f s a parents au (wattpad) sequel to 40 weeks

⋆ They survived high school and overcame the obstacles that tried to break them apart. Together they adapt to college life and work, all while caring for their new baby. Now, two friends turned lovers prepare for their wedding. Life had other plans. The continuation of 40 Weeks. Bring tissues.

blood ink by pocketbangtan f s a gang au tattoo artist jk (wattpad)

⋆ "That's my tattoo, Y/N, on your body. You know exactly what that means."

one shot

wait for your love by @/spideyjimin f s a exes2lovers parents (17.3k)

⋆ sixteen years ago, your life was turned upside down when you surrendered to the temptation — none other than jungkook, the star basketball player on your school’s team. today, after all that time, you reunite under tragic circumstances; a car crash where he saves your life.

Inkling by @gguksgalaxy s a f2l tattoo artist jk (17.7k)

⋆Jungkook is your brother’s boyfriend’s co-worker, they own a tattoo and piercing parlour. In other words, he’s tall, gorgeous, has his passion literally etched into his skin, looks incredibly good in a man-bun, and is semi-unattainable for you. Why? Well…you’re not entirely sure but him ditching right after a very heated make-out session sure isn’t a good sign. His extremely poor mood the next week sure isn’t either, but the only way to fix it is to face the beast head-on. Right?

in this paradise by @ressjeon f s a s2l survivor au (16.3k)

⋆ in an attempt to escape what’s been planned for him, Jungkook hopped on a ship only to face a tragedy that he didn’t expect and then there’s you who somehow couldn’t believe to find company in this isolated land. was this fate or was this just a temporary chance of bliss as a challenge for you both?

sleepover by @personasintro f s best friends brother (10.4k)

⋆ Jungkook is your best friend’s little brother who invites you to have a sleepover at his place. Nothing can happen, right?

bottle up old love by @wintaerbaer f s a exes to lovers (4.6k)

⋆ Jungkook may have broken up with you a year ago, but that's not going to stop him from coming to your rescue when he sees you being cornered by a creep.

the devil’s change up by @/jungblue f s a coach au (41.3k)

⋆ Majoring in athletic training means you have mandatory observation hours to perform with every single sports team at your school throughout the year, and so far it’s been going pretty great. However, when regrets from your past cause your rotation with the baseball team to become a little rocky, there’s one star pitcher who says that he can make it all better. 

entertainer by @taegularities f s a s2l (32.4k)

⋆ Growing singer Jeon Jungkook is as charismatic as he is self-absored – that is, until he meets you. Caught in a web of secrets, he finds a riddle in you he urges to solve; even ready to turn the spotlight towards you until nothing remains… but regret.

habits of a clandestine nature by @alphabetboyluvr s a college au rich jk e2l (16k)

explorer by @/1kook f s alien au s2f2l (17.8k)

⋆ Jungkook does not want to impress the frankly tyrannical ways of his planet on you. He just wants to stay here and keep your couch warm for you, hold your hair back when you wash your face in the morning. 

million dollar darling by @kooktrash f s a e2f2l crazy rixh asians inspired (19.7k)

⋆ jeon jungkook is well aware of how privileged he is to have been born into the life he was given. it was glamorous and influential yet close-knit and suffocating, something he thought he wanted to escape from. a trip back home to the circle of wealth and snottiness for his best friend’s million dollar wedding has reminded him of all the reasons why he wanted to leave in the first place… and all the reasons he should stay — the main one being you, the spoiled rich girl he knew was utterly perfect for him.

little surfer girl by @ppersonna f s a summer love suferjk (9.8k)

⋆ every summer you watched jeon jungkook turn into a perfect, professional surfer. every summer, you wanted him more. this summer, you were determined to make him yours.

the whole of your heart by @lcksndkys f s a husband au band au (8k)

⋆ Save a drum, bang a drummer.

sketch by @moonscriptsx f s soulmate au artist jk (9.6k)

⋆ After sixteen years of dreaming about the same unknown beautiful girl, Jungkook finally gets to put a name to the face — and she's so much more than what he's dreamt of

strings attached (to my heart) by @jungkoode f s spiderkook college au (11.8k)

⋆ You were a journalist at Yonsei University when you started noticing the strange coincidences between your favorite bumbling freshman and Seoul's newest superhero. The way Spider-Man's voice cracks on 'noona' exactly like Jungkook's does. The way they both bring you the same snacks, have the same nervous energy, the same tendency to ramble when flustered. You tell yourself it's just a coincidence, because the alternative means admitting something you're absolutely not ready to deal with.

it was always you by @/hueseok f s a childhood best friends to lovers (13.2k)

⋆ for as long as you remember, you’ve always had the fattest crush on your childhood friend, jeon jungkook. it never blossomed into something more though, because that’s what happens when life naturally takes it course—you grow up, you move on, and you pretend that those feelings never existed in order to maintain the good friendship that remained between the two of you over the years.so when he visits you after work one day, asking you to marry him, you do everything you can to refuse, because the reason he’s asking you isn’t due to the fact that he finally realized that he loved you after all this time, but because he thinks he’s doing you a big favor.or at least, that’s what you think.

mio angelo by @/hueseok f s a mafia au established relationship (33.3k)

⋆ it’s no secret to the whole nation how powerful the jeon family was. the efforts of the highly respected don jungsoo was the reason why the name of their clan continues to be a name that people thought greatly of and sometimes even feared. despite your father working alongside with the don, you never truly understood what the family possessed to earn them such acclaim; that is until you got closer to one of his grandsons, jeon jeongguk, that you caught a glimpse of how much power they truly seized as you see it first hand and become a part of it yourself. inspired by the godfather and vincenzo

ultimatum by @parkmuse f s spiderkook (10.3k)

⋆ Your pervy, idiotic boyfriend just so happens to also be your friendly neighborhood Spider-man (in bed).

melomaniac by @jungkxook f s a band au f2l (13k)

⋆ you’re wholeheartedly, madly in love with jungkook and yet you shouldn’t be because he’s supposed to be your best friend and nothing more. worst part of it all is that you know he’s in love with you too.

Navigating Tides by @jjungkookislife f s a exes2lovers (18.9k)

⋆ A cruise is the last place you expect to see your ex-boyfriend, Jeon Jungkook. You broke up six months ago, and your best friends Jimin and Yoongi assured you your ex wouldn't even remember this cruise that you booked a year in advance. However, on your first night on board, you discover your ex isn't only on the cruise ship, but there are no rooms available for him to stay in other than yours.

will it fit? by @jeonsweetpea f s idiots2lovers roommate au (6.7K)

⋆ So what if your roommate caught you masturbating? At least he forgot about it the next day. But he can’t exactly forget the big dildo you left in your shared bathroom…

pull me down by @starryeyedkoo f a badboy gang college au (22.9k)

⋆ “Do you regret it?” “What?” “Falling in love with me? It feels like I only weigh you down.” “I’ll let you pull me down to the depths of hell if that’s what it means to love you.”

espresso by @joonberriess f s a boxer jk idol oc (14.6k)

⋆ a rowdy boxer and the pretty it-girl he bagged by being him. jungkook’s doing anything to prove he’s serious, even if it means making a fool outta himself.

changes in between by @/taegularities f s a roommates s2f2l (24.7k)

⋆ Becoming the roommate of Jeon Jungkook is the biggest change you’ve ever gotten thrown into - but little do you know that the addition of another man will bring even further turbulence into your (love) life.

not my fault by @/taegularities f s college au classmates 2 lovers (12.6k)

⋆ After sparking a sinful conversation on a dating app, you vow to yourself that you won’t give in to more the notorious college fuckboy Jeon Jungkook might have to offer. That is, until he rings your doorbell just one night later – and it’s truly not your fault that he’s so damn hard to resist.

the secret beneath our stars by @subvk s a college au f2l (13.1k)

⋆ Falling in love with Jeon Jungkook was everything you’ve ever dreamed of and more, but maybe it was exactly that: a dream so blissful and comforting that it was too good to be true, something that could all disappear when the night changes to day, and your eyes open again. Or, making a marriage pact with your best friend was supposed to instill a sense of hope for you, so why does this hurt you more than it should?

mature by @/jiminrings f a pining f2l (8k)

⋆ alternatively, crushing on jungkook who's in your friend group is, has, and will never be a good idea.

movie goers by @mi55delulu f s a e2f2l (16.4k)

⋆ starting off on the wrong foot with your new neighbor was not on the top of your bucket list, yet you’ve made an enemy of jeon jungkook in less than 24 hours. unlucky for you, he’s not backing down either.

hopless hearts by @cupofteaguk f idol au s2l (17k)

⋆ you never understood the gravity of your position as an intern working Kcon until you fall for one of your favorite idols, Jeon Jungkook—quite literally too.

dissonance by @/yuzukult f s a rockstar jk student oc (19.4k)

⋆ something that first seems out of reach becomes a reality for him. screaming adoring fans, billboards with him and his band plastered on it, and touring across the globe with venues sold out. he has everything… but all he’s missing is you.

this is how we break by @ahundredtimesover f s a exes au (20.6k)

⋆ There are things you prepared for coming back home and that includes seeing your ex-boyfriend, but helping him design his apartment isn’t one of them. From meetings over coffee and lunches with your friends, you both learn more about the time in-between, and what you find out leave you heartbroken, wondering if there’s enough of you left to try to get back what you’d lost.

↬looking for other jjk fics or the other members check out my library

coming soon....

[circe69]

simon ghost riley and pr!mal play fuck yeah

cw: unprotected p in v, rough!sex, predator/prey, dubcon-non, primal play obvi (girl run slower c’mon now)

uhhhh, he’s right behind me isn’t he? ~(>_<~)

“i’ll give you three fuckin’ seconds to run.”

shit.

you stumble back on the wet forest floor, leaves crumbling beneath your feet. simon stood 3 steps away from you, and all he wanted was to fuck you into the ground.

but a good hunter likes to play with his food first.

“one,” he starts as your breath comes out in distorted pants. you’re so excited, so scared, the adrenaline mixed with the intense lust is running through your blood like fire.

“two,” he takes a step towards you. you’re terrified but you want to egg him on. you want to make him angry. wanna make him punish you. you slowly peel off your sweatshirt, revealing your skin-tight tank top.

simon’s anger (and his cock) was begging him to take you right there. he smirked and shook his head, he couldn’t believe what a fucking. brat. you. were.

“three.”

you jumped into a sprint, running as fast as you could and lunging through trees. even though you were running faster than you thought was humanly possible, simon’s footsteps were still right on your tail.

he was swift and silent, and it wasn't until you turned a sharp corner to avoid hitting a tree that you felt two large forearms wrap around your middle.

your scream could've been heard from miles away, causing birds to flee from their nests. ghost flung you against the nearest tree stump and held you with one hand clenched onto your stomach as your feet dangled nearly a foot above the ground.

"why do you have to make everything so fucking difficult," he grunted out as he stripped your pants off with one hand.

you were still struggling to breath, "simon, no-"

"too late for no's, bitch."

you squealed as he tossed you onto the ground, a small tear coming from the corner of your eyes as you went slack jawed watching simon remove his shirt. he started laughing at the sight, "heh, just like you. just like you to dish it and not fuckin' take it. do you see this, y/n?" he grabbed you by a fistful of hair and shoved it down so you were eye level with his painfully hard dick. "you see it? this," he slammed a knee between your thighs, shoving it against your clit as you let out a small sob, "is what you did to me."

no matter what sound was coming out of your mouth, your pussy couldn't lie; if simon were to drag a finger through your slit, it would come back dripping.

"'m sorry, simon, sorry, sorr-"

the sound of his pistol cocking interrupted your pleas. he crawled over you and petted the top of your head, smoothing the stray hairs. “aww, you’re sorry? how sweet,” you felt the head of his gun hit your hip.

“pull my fucking cock out of my pants and if you take your eyes off ‘a mine, you’re dead.”

you scramble, with fat tears streaming out your eyes and down your jaw, as you unzip his cargo pants and pull out his hard length. you never looked away, and scary enough, neither did he.

only when you wrapped your palm around the base of him did he drop is head into the crook of your neck and groan, “fuck,” he whispered, before leaving an open-mouthed kiss under your jaw.

“you going soft on me?” you said quietly.

“if i was going soft, this pussy,” he shoved two fingers inside of you with no warning, and all you could hear was an embarrassingly loud squelch, proving just how much you wanted this, wanted him. “would sound a lot different.”

“no matter how sweet you are,” simon removed his fingers and replaced it with the head of his dick, forcing a gasp out of you,” n’matter how sick you think i am, you like being prey, you like being caught and gutted from the inside out, isn’ that right baby?”

there was no denying it, and even if you did, your pussy would suggest otherwise.

simon riley was right.

[niwaart]

Family without light

[#Part1 #part2 #Part3]

Jason's bike stopped in front of Damian's school, the school was almost empty at this time. Damian walked over to where Jason stopped and got on the bike after putting on his helmet. Jason noticed that Damian was depressed these months, he would be a fool if he did not notice the change in Damian, first his fights with Tim had stopped, his taking care of his animals had decreased, and his enthusiasm for fighting crime had disappeared. He knew why, it was all because of Y/N's departure, and he had to admit that her decision to divorce Bruce was a good choice... almost.

He rode his bike back to Wayne Manor in silence, Jason didn't make fun of Damian for this, he himself was suffering now after Y/N's departure and even before her departure... Before his death, his relationship with Y/N ​​was beautiful, wonderful, like a real family, he couldn't have asked for more, but after his death... everything changed, he still remembered that night when he returned to Gotham and sought revenge on Bruce and the Joker, when Batman was chasing him through the city's procedures and the identity of the Red Hood was still unknown Y/N was the first to discover his true identity, she was monitoring his movements through the bat computer while Batman was chasing him, and when she saw Red Hood's movements... and how familiar he was in every way she didn't hesitate for a moment to take the nearest car in front of her and drive to Batman and Red Hood's location. Alfred tried to stop her but couldn't, as soon as Y/N reached their location she ran to them. Batman tried to stop Y/N and push her away but Y/N shouted at Batman that Red Hood is her son… her son… Jason remembers that he froze in place when he saw Y/N and when he heard the word… my son… his mind was confused, he didn’t know what to do and from the sudden tension and pressure he raised his gun towards her and shot her… he doesn’t remember what happened after that… he doesn’t remember anything… he only remembers that Y/N gave him a look that he will never forget as long as he lives… a look full of pain and sadness… and disappointment… and from the strength of his fear and tension he fired another shot and then everything else turned into a blur… he ran as fast as he could away from the place… away from her…

Since that day his relationship with Y/N ​​changed, even after his relationship with Bruce improved, he didn't visit her or meet her... afraid of her reaction, afraid of seeing her hatred towards him in her eyes... Still... he was still trying to follow her... even if it was by chance... he wanted to improve his relationship with her.. like before... to be a mother and son again... he admits that he missed hugging her before going to sleep, and morning activities like yoga and chasing around the house... if he could go back.. he wants to stay in those moments that he cherished with all his heart... but he can't... he tried once to enter the house at a random time... just to meet Y/N even if it was by chance... but by mistake.. he overheard Y/N and Alfred arguing about him... which broke his heart and he surrendered that she would never forgive him.. Alfred told her to see Jason more, Jason became quieter and came to the house more often... Y/N's answer had ruined all his plans for reconciliation... Y/N said that this boy is not Jason... Not her son… Her son is dead and he’s not coming back. Jason remembers running as fast as he could out of the house, riding his bike as fast as he could, and hiding in one of his safe houses. He couldn’t stop the tears… He couldn’t hide his regret… Hide his feelings… Hide his frustration… He was sorry… He was sorry… He was ready to pay back… He was ready for Y/N to shoot him if she wanted… She could kill him if she wanted… He was ready to surrender… He just wanted her to forgive him… To be her son again… He wanted to tell her about his fears and nightmares that haunt him at night… He wanted to tell her about the pain he felt without her, he wanted to hold her before he fell asleep… Like a little child… Couldn’t he have that? Couldn’t he be her son again? What should he do? He was ready to do what she asked for until the end… He really missed her so much…

Jason stopped his bike in front of Wayne Manor. "Okay brat... We're here." Jason turned to Damian who took off his helmet and walked silently into the manor... Jason sighed sadly. He was sure Damian felt the same way... That he missed her... Jason wondered if Y/N still had any love for him... He didn't know.

As soon as Damian entered his room, he threw his bag and lay down on his bed... Why did she hate him? Was it because he was cruel? Or because he was so emotional? Or because he was cursing and belittling her? Or because he broke her hand because she tried to brush his hair? Or because he was comparing her to his mother Talia in front of everyone... ? Does she hate him now because of this? He's sorry... He's so sorry... He's ready to apologize... He's so sorry for all the stupid fights... He's sorry for every word he said... He's sorry for trying to be cruel... He's so sorry for all the threatening texts he sent... Maybe... Maybe if he apologized in front of her, she'd forgive him.... Right?

His tears were wetting his bed… His fist gripping the blanket tightly like a lifeline…He cried and screamed sadly into his pillow. She came today to school but not for him!! Not for him… But for two children he hadn’t noticed throughout his time studying here… Who are they to have Y/N’s love? Who are they to take Y/N away from him?!! Who are they to even dare to hug Y/N?!!… He wiped his tears and went to the bathroom to wash his face with cold water… He wouldn’t let two weak children have all of Y/N’s love. He walked out of his room and headed to Tim’s room… He didn’t care if he was going to beg… He wanted to know who these two children were…

Y/N’s love for him. Only him. And he wasn’t ready to share it with anyone.

@itsmadamehydra @sirenetheblogger @insomniaccorner @nommingonfood @supernaturalmarvelfan @moe-moes-stuff @stickyricewithmangosauce @emeraldcutie44 @randomlyappearingartist @type-ink

[heavysighing-dreamyeyes]

Priority One

You come first for Jason ~800 words

At his core, Jason Todd puts himself last. He's the first to jump in front of a bullet, first charge into a burning fire, first to drop dead center into a group of thugs.

It's not that he doesn't care about his safety, it's just that he deems his safety as lesser. He's stronger, sturdier, and if he's the one that goes down instead of someone else? That's a good thing.

He knows people would worry. People would miss him. But they'd move on the same way they did before. They would fill the gaps in the spaces he leaves, and there wouldn't be a need to pick the pieces off the floor because nothing would break at his loss.

At least, that used to be the truth. It was the truth until you nestled your way into his heart, and he somehow became a fixture in your life. He didn't mean to do it, didn't mean to make you fall in love with him, and he certainly didn't mean to fall in love with you.

But he did.

And now he makes sure you sleep on the inside on the bed, safe between the wall and him. He walks between you and the road, always on guard for swerving cars and shady civilians. He checks your apartment during patrol, though it's more for his peace of mind than yours.

Jason Todd still puts himself last, but the thought of you comes first, when he dives into the line of fire. If he doesn't come home, who's going to fix the leaky faucet or take out the trash when it gets full?

You could do it, he knows you could, but he doesn't want you to have to. So, he upgrades his armor when he would normally put it off. He's quicker to stop the blood dripping from his wounds. He's more aware, when he's shifting through the shadows of an enemy base.

He never worried about what he would leave behind. Not until you started to kiss his jaw before his nightly patrol, not until you started to reach for him every time he came home, beckoning him to your side and under the waiting, warm blankets.

He worries now. He makes plans, sets aside money, and makes his closest allies promise to keep an eye on you if he ever can't. He becomes your shield, whether you're aware of it or not, he has you covered.

You're his priority, and in becoming so, he's slowly becoming a priority, too. You're happier when he's okay, so he steadies his reckless tendencies. He dismantles the bomb in his helmet. He turns on his tracker for Oracle to keep an eye on.

For all the times he looks after himself, it's with you on his mind. He double checks his gear because he needs to pick up paper towels on the way home for you. He cleans his grappling hook because you asked him if he wanted to go out to dinner and a movie tomorrow.

He waits for backup before breaking up Penguin's latest smuggling ring because you recommended a book for him to read, and he only has a handful of chapters left to finish.

It's you, and you, and you again, that gives him a reason to want to make it to sunrise. It's you, that makes him really want to live.

He wants to see coast cities and tiny forest towns outside of whatever crime he's hunting down. He wants to travel and explore and try everything and anything– as long as it's with you.

He'd give up the world, give up everything he knows, as long as he can give you what you want. But all you ever ask, even if it's not in so many words, is for him to come home. So he does. Every night. Every day. Every time. Jason Todd finds his way back to you because your wants are his first concern.

He sheds his armor and kicks off his boots and leaves everything but the thought of you at your windowsill. He smiles when you murmur your sleepy greetings because he knows you think his smiles are pretty. He checks the locks and changes into the pajama set that matches with yours because you giggle every time you see it.

And all these things are so little yet so big all in one. They fill the cracks beneath his skin, and when he finally has you in his arms again, Jason Todd knows that nothing will be greater than this, than you.

There is no adversary, no injury or mission, that would have his gaze from straying from his singular goal; making it back to your arms to fill your days with all you deserve. With joy. With love. And for as long as you desire it, with him.

[catchastarorten]

hey lovely, i don’t know if you take requests but i absolutely love your works!! i wanted to see if you can do a jun ho fic x fem!reader where jun is in a coma after in ho shoot him on that island and reader has been visiting him every day since at the hospital. and one day he finally wakes ip and reader just takes care of him? just like a baby, food, kisses, cuddles. i feel like our man needs that :(

tyy if you would do this, have a great day or night 🩷🩷

Hello, anon! Here's your request :), I hope I did Jun-ho justice because you're absolutely right, the man needs some love and care, and he's gonna get it here. Hope you enjoy this — lots of love! <3

—Feels better with you.

Pairing: Hwang Jun-ho x lover!fem!reader

Summary: after everything Jun-ho went through, he was in a coma, you were there with him when he finally woke up. He needed you. And you took care of him while he was recovering.

Content: fluff, comfort, kisses, yearning, a little bit of angst, Jun-ho in a coma then waking up, English isn’t my first language, mistakes should be present, not proofread, sorry!

Word count: ~ 1.0k

Seeing him lying there, hooked up to machines, pale and fragile in a way you’d never seen before, broke something in you. This was the man who had once held you so tightly, who had whispered promises into your skin, who had loved you with a quiet intensity that made you feel untouchable. Now he looked so far away.

You visited him every day after hearing about how he'd been pulled from the ocean. He was in a coma.

You talked to him, your voice soft but steady, telling him about everything and nothing. You read to him, held his hand, brushed the hair from his forehead like you used to on those lazy mornings. And every day, you hoped he’d come back to you.

The day he woke up, it was like the world stopped. His eyes fluttered open, unfocused and heavy with exhaustion. Your heart leapt into your throat as you leaned closer, your hands trembling.

Waking up felt like surfacing from a dream that had gone on too long—foggy and disorienting, the kind of dream where Jun-ho wasn't sure if he was still alive or dead. His body was heavy, every muscle aching, but especially from the shot on his shoulder, the weight that it carried.

For a moment, Jun-ho couldn’t remember where he was or why his chest felt so tight, why his head throbbed with such a sharp ache.

But then he saw you.

You were leaning over him, your eyes wide, tears brimming as if you held them back for too long. And when you whispered his name, the sound cracked something deep inside him.

“Jun-ho?” your voice echoed.

He tried to speak, but his throat felt raw, his voice coming out like sandpaper as he rasped your name back. Just your name, like it was the only word he'd held onto all this time. “Y/n…”

And just like that, the weight of the world fell away. You were there, holding his face, your touch soft and grounding, your presence the only thing grounding him to reality. “I’m here,” you told him, your voice thick with relief. “I’m right here.”

The look in your eyes nearly undid him. He wanted to say so much, to explain why he left, to apologize for everything—for leaving without a word, for the pain he knew he’d caused you—but his body betrayed him, too weak to form the sentences in his head.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered instead, the words barely audible.

“Stop,” you shook your head, tears falling from your eyes. “You don’t have to explain anything right now,” you said gently, your voice a balm to his soul. “Just rest, okay? Please.”

He didn’t argue. He never could with you.

In the days that followed, Jun-ho spent more time watching you than anything else. He was too weak to do much else, and honestly, he didn’t mind. Every time he opened his eyes, you were there—staying with him, and he held your hand as if he couldn’t bear to let go.

You’d talk to him in that soft, steady voice of yours, telling him about the most ordinary things. It didn’t matter what you said. All he cared about was the sound of your voice, the way it wrapped around him like a blanket, comforting and warm. Like he was home again.

There were times, late at night, when you thought he was asleep, and he’d feel your fingers brushing against his, hear the quiet, shaky breaths you took as if trying to hold yourself together. Those moments broke him more than anything else.

He hated himself for leaving you. For disappearing the way he had, knowing how much it would hurt you. But the guilt wasn’t as strong as the relief he felt now, knowing that despite everything, you were still here. You hadn’t given up on him, and he loves you for it.

When he was finally strong enough to sit up on his own, you started bringing him food—simple things like soup or porridge. He’d watch you blow on each spoonful, your lips pursed slightly as you cooled the soup before holding it to his mouth.

He ate obediently, his eyes never leaving you, his gaze flickering to your lips like he was counting the moments until the bowl was empty and he could kiss you again. 

He wanted to kiss you so badly it hurt.

The first time he finally did, you were brushing your fingers through his hair. Without thinking, Jun-ho reached up and caught your hand, pressing a kiss to your palm, then your wrist, his eyes fluttering shut as if the touch alone was enough to heal him.

Your heart clenched as you leaned down to kiss him properly, your lips soft against his. It was slow, tentative. Your lips were warm, familiar, and he felt a shiver run through him as he let himself sink into it.

“I missed you,” he murmured against your lips, his voice low and raw with emotion.

“I missed you too,” you whispered back.

Jun-ho wanted to hold you properly, more than anything. To pull you into his arms and never let go. But the hospital bed wasn’t big enough for that, much to his silent frustration.

You let out a quiet laugh when he gave you a soft frown, but you gave him your arm instead, letting him curl up against you. He rested his head on your hand, his eyes focused on you as you gently ran your fingers through his hair.

The frown dissolved from his face, his eyes traced your features as if he was memorizing every little thing about you. His breathing slowed, and you knew he was at peace.

He needed this. All of it. And he needed you.