#I don’t think it sounds that traumatic when I write it out but it felt very traumatic

[algolagniaa]

going to private school isn’t my entire villain origin story bc lots of unrelated bad shit happened but it did fuck up my life bc before I went I had everyone in my life blowing smoke up my ass about how I was the smartest most incomparably brilliant person ever + going to write the next great American novel and I lived a very sheltered life where I actually was smarter and a better writer than anyone I’d ever met so I fully believed this. and I was also homeschooled and my education up to that point was pretty patchy and lackluster and also my mom had grown up poor and didn’t know what curriculums at private performing arts schools for rich kids were like so when I went there I didn’t know shit about fuck and was behind in every class except math + didn’t make any friends because I was SUPER weird like way weirder than now even + had to be there from 8am to 5pm every day not counting the 40 minutes it took to drive there and 40 minutes it took to drive back so the last thing I wanted to do when I got home was homework and so I didn’t do any of my homework ever and fell behind more. and I got Cs and my parents decided it was because I was lazy and rebellious (which was partly true) and they reacted by not including me in family time + not making me dinner anymore + never talking to me unless it was to insult me or yell at me + having conversations and yelling at me if I tried to join + having movie nights together and locking me out of the room + teaching my little sister it was okay to hit me + literally going on vacation and leaving me behind which I’m still mad about. if I can swing it I’m visiting the redwoods by myself before I leave California + lots of other shit in the same vein. and I was actually struggling but no one believed me and so I decided I was stupid which led to me dropping out of school + got obsessed with getting in a relationship so I could define my worth some other way (plus have someone to love me since my family obviously didn’t) which led me into some really bad relationships with people who were clearly beneath me culminating in getting together with Levi Loggins and feeling like I NEEDED to stay with them. and that’s why I cannot get along with my family to this day and why my ego is huge but delicate and why I have a chip on my shoulder about literally everything and why if I get a grade that’s less than 95% I go insane

[ametrictonofaudacity]

Hi! I love your blog so much. I was hoping you could write what yandere!batfam would do if the reader just barricaded themselves in a room and does everything to make sure batfam can't get in. I hope you have a great day and drink plenty of water.

Thank you! I’m glad you enjoy my blog, and I am absolutely going to do a snippet for this!

Warnings: (implied) hunger striking, captivity, themes of obsession, violence, and threats of restraints as well as physically restraining someone.

“You know that’s only going to hold us out for so long, right?”

It’s Jason. You don’t respond, keeping silent. It was just another trick, you knew, to get you to open the door.

Not that they only needed a door. You’d shoved the massive bookcase in front of the window, shoving your bed in front of it. Your desk, and the final bookshelf, had gone to block the door.

You had no doubt it wouldn’t hold them long. It just had to hold them long enough.

“Come on, kid, think about this. Open the door, and I’ll try and talk the old man down from taking the damn door off it’s hinges.”

You hiss softly in alarm, because you had thought Bruce was gone. You thought he was away, in Nepal, in a business trip. Otherwise there was no possible way you would have been able to pull this off, you knew.

“You didn’t know the old man was back? He got a call from Dickiebird, he’s on his way to the Manor as we speak, kid. You really want him to start breaking down the door? He will, you know it.”

You keep quiet, fingers buried in the soft carpet, and try to focus. Try to breath. Bruce being here changed things. Dick being here changed things.

“Who’s all in the Manor?”

You manage to croak out, and Jason pauses.

“Not sure I should be telling you that, kid. I’ll cut you a deal, though. Tell me why you’re pulling out the anti-siege tactics and I’ll tell you some names.”

You shake your head, before you remember that Jason couldn’t see you. That was fine.

“No deal.”

You weren’t going to be explaining to them that you felt suffocated, more often than not. That they were always there, constantly hovering, a hand on your shoulder or an arm linked around yours. That you had so little agency that you felt you were going insane, on a good day.

“Then guess you’re gonna be in the dark. Head up, though. Golden Boy’s pissed.”

That manages to rip the air from your lungs. Dick was scary as hell when he got angry, scary enough that out of all your siblings captors, his anger would immediately send you into a near frenzy. He got fucking mean when he was mad, and he knew how to use his words to cut to the bone.

“What and you aren’t?” You taunt, frantically trying to stop the way your heart thunders in your ears and the way your blood pulses in your veins.

“Oh no, I’m pissed. Pissed enough I’m keeping this door between the two of us, because I don’t want to traumatize ya.” It’s- it’s almost cheerful, the way he says it, so matter of fact, but the words are phrased in a way that you know they’re true. Every syllable is tense and clipped, not quite grit out and hidden behind the easygoing bluster.

“Yeah, well, I’m also pretty into keeping the door between us.” You snap, because you are impulsive and dumb and holy shit you did not think this through.

You hear the faintest sound from Jason, and when he speaks again, his voice is sharp, sharp enough you cringe back and try not to panic.

“I fucking bet, you brat. What exactly are you planning to get out of this, huh? Planning on going on a hunger strike or something?”

The door rattles in the frame, and you yelp, alarmed.

A sigh, and when Jason speaks again, it’s softer. Cajoling.

“Listen. Bruce and Golden Boy are gonna be here soon. We can do this two ways. You either open the door, apologize to me for being an absolute menace and driving me insane, or it gets busted down, and you leave the room anyways, except with a lot more yelling and a lot higher chance of Bruce not letting you out of his sight for months. Literally.”

You bite your lip, hands fisted in the rug.

“I’m not opening the door, Jason.”

“Fine. Don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

You hear his footsteps leave. For a second, you take a moment to breathe, air whistling between your teeth, the AC loud in the quiet room.

“Open the door.”

You jump, nearly leaping a foot in the air, and the startled sound dies in your chest, eyes wide.

Bruce. Bruce was on the other side of the door, right now, and he was pissed. Pissed enough that his voice had that gravelly, rough quality it got when he was being stern and already mad as hell but trying not to show it.

“No.”

Your voice sounds small, even to you. You try to ignore it.

The door rattles on it’s hinges. It seemed, with a locked door and several heavy oak dressers between you and him, he was determined to move both. It rattles again, this time louder, and you shriek in alarm when the desk creaks. How fucking hard was Bruce hitting it?

“(Y/N), unless you want me to break this door down, open the door.” Bruce sighs after he speaks, and then breathes in, like he was trying to calm himself down.

“I know you’re scared right now. But just open the door and come out, and we can talk about why you did this, okay? I’m sorry I frightened you.”

You feel tears prick at the side of your face, feel the anxiety and the nervousness and the fear. You want to shake your head.

You don’t say anything, and he sighs again.

This time, it’s not just the door that rattles. The desk shudders, straining against the weight thrown against it, and the shelf creaks, then sways.

You’re smart enough to back up and away before it comes crashing down. Not that you don’t doubt Bruce knew you were away from the shelf, or he never would have risked toppling the heavy thing.

When he ducks through the doorway, picking his way over the shattered desk and shelf, you back away, hands trembling. He pauses.

“(Y/N). Why don’t you come over here so we can clean the mess up, and we can talk about this in a bit? Just take a breath, okay? Are you hurt?”

You shake your head. It makes some of the anger drain from his features, that you weren’t hurt, but you don’t get any closer and his lips press into a thin line.

“(Y/N). Come here.”

It’s stern. It reminds you of the same voice he uses every time you try and escape or fight with your siblings. It makes your stomach twist.

Your eyes flick to the door, and Dick, who was standing not far from the door way, sharp blue eyes watching you for any movement.

You make your decision, swallow, and ease forward.

Warm arms wrap around you the second you’re in reach, pressing you against Bruce’s chest, and you feel a bit of the tension in his shoulders unwind, just barely.

“This isn’t happening again, (Y/N). Do you understand me? What if you had gotten hurt, when the shelf came down? What if you had gotten hurt when you were in here and couldn’t say anything?”

Bruce was pissed, and he grips you tightly, tightly enough that you squirm in his hold, which only makes him grip you tighter.

“I wouldn’t have gotten myself hurt! It’s practically an empty room half the time, what could I have hurt myself with?”

God, you hated it when your mouth ran faster than your thoughts.

“That’s not what matters.” Dick cuts in. “The issue is that you could’ve, and we couldn’t have done anything about it!”

He pissed, practically spitting out the words, and you can hear Bruce’s frown.

“Dick, you need to calm down.”

“No! This is the fifth time this month they’ve tried something, you have to do something, Bruce! It’s stressing everyone out!”

You open your mouth to argue, ready to defend yourself because you hadn’t asked for any of this, but Bruce speaks before you can.

“I will.”

And suddenly you are far more preoccupied with trying to prevent Bruce from picking you up, twisting and squirming to get away, but he catches you easily. He presses you against him, this time the action restraining, and lifts, taking your feet off the ground.

The entire trip through the Manor, you are twisting and pushing against him, trying to escape. You nearly get close, once, when he was adjusting his hold and you had snapped your teeth at him, but Dick had lurched froward for a moment and it had startled you so badly that you had frozen, giving him time to readjust.

You’re dumped on a medical cot, and when you see the straps on either side, it nearly takes the both of them to hold you down long enough to get them on. Bruce looks pained the entire time, as you kick and flail, and when they’re both done, your arms are strapped securely enough that yanking on them does nothing.

“Stop. You’re going to hurt yourself.” Bruce frowns, and then sighs, moving the cot. You’re moved with it, and you glare. “This is only temporary until we find a more permanent solution, (Y/N). Until we can trust you not to be a danger to yourself, alright? It won’t last long.”

Dick doesn’t look like he agrees.

You don’t either.

[tikosblogg]

The Scars We Bare….❤️

Summary: After a traumatic accident leaving your body scarred for life, Noah makes it his mission to remind you of your worth.

Warning: piv sex, unprotected sex(don’t do that), slight choking. Body worship?, mentions of blood, fighting. Let me know if I forgot anything.

A/N: This is a little heavier than I usually write about, but I thought it was so sweet. I’m sorry if it’s trash, I wrote this while watching Summer slam🤪

The energy inside our house was insane, the house pulsing with the music and the laughter of friends. the ambiance was alive—a perfect backdrop to celebrate the end of their successful tour. I had always been the glue that held this ragtag bunch together. Growing up alongside Noah, and the guys meant our lives were intertwined in a way that made this party feel like a reunion of sorts, no matter how long we’ve lived together or how often we saw each other while they are on the road.

As I mingled among partygoers, I felt an undeniable sense of pride for these guys who had worked so hard, now basking in the glow of their accomplishments. But tonight wasn’t just about them; it was about me too. I had hopes of taking my relationship with Brent to the next level.

Brent is the first relationship I’ve had since my accident 4 years ago. We have been seeing one another for about a month, and in my gut, I felt tonight could be the night we solidified what we both wanted. Nobody has seen my body since that traumatic day, except for Noah. My family lives out of state, so as soon as I was released from the hospital Noah moved me in here.

He was my rock during the whole ordeal and helped me heal. Our friendship is a special one, that I hold dearly in my heart. He bathed me, cooked for me, cleaned the cuts and incisions on my body everyday. He was the shoulder I cried on, about my insecurities of my forever changed body. Always reminding me that I was beautiful. He has helped more than I think he realizes.

Excusing myself from a lively conversation with Noah and Jolly, I slipped outside to check on Brent. The cool air hit my skin, refreshing yet a little uneasy. I dialed his number, only to be met with an annoyance I couldn’t quite place. "I've been here for the past 45 minutes," he huffed, the edge in his voice making me flinch.

My stomach twisted as he gave me his location. I ended the call, worry gnawing at the edges of my mind. What had gone wrong? He’s never sounded so annoyed with me. I shook it off and decided to find him, determined not to let it ruin our night.

When I finally spotted him, leaning against the wall of the house with his arms crossed and an unimpressed look on his face, my heart sank. Why did he look so displeased? I swept in for a hug, wrapping my arms around his body, hoping to draw out a little warmth. He hesitated for just a moment before returning the embrace, but the spark I had anticipated was absent.

"Hey! Glad you made it," I chirped, forcing a smile even as a twinge of frustration bubbled within me. He didn't reply, only allowed me to grab his hand and lead him inside.

As we entered, I could feel the vibrant energy shift slightly. The laughter and chatter continued, but the warmth of the party felt overshadowed by the tension emanating from Brent. I introduced him to the guys Noah, Jolly, Folio, and Nick—all of whom were mingling and laughing, filling the air with their unique energy. However, I noticed something peculiar: the way the guys eyed Brent, especially Noah. There was a hint of concern in his gaze, the kind that screamed, I’m onto you.

Ignoring the unspoken judgment from my friends, I pulled Brent closer, trying to ignite that spark between us. We stood there, surrounded by music and laughter, yet he seemed distant, his smile faltering as the guys began to chatter amongst themselves.

“Everything alright?” I whispered, leaning closer to him. I wanted an opening, a doorway into whatever was bothering him. But he merely shrugged, his gaze wandering, refusing to engage. I softly grasped Brent’s hand, politely excusing us from the group. I led him through the crowd of party goers, and up the stairs to my room.

As I closed the door behind us, the thumping bass of the party dwindled into a distant murmur, the laughter of friends fading away as I turned to Brent. The vibrant energy of the gathering felt worlds away, and the four walls of my bedroom suddenly wrapped around us like a protective barrier.

“Brent,” I started, my voice wavering slightly. “I’m really sorry if I overwhelmed you back there. I just wanted you to meet my friends. They’re like family to me.” I stepped closer, finding comfort in the small space between us. “I like how you’re different from everyone else,” I reassured him, reaching to cup his face. “I want you with me, Brent. I really like you, and I was hoping tonight could be something more.”

At last, he looked up, a smirk playing on his lips as he wasted no more time, and leaned in and captured my mouth with his. The kiss ignited something deep inside me; I melted into him, the world beyond my bedroom eclipsed in a frenzy of sensation. But then, as he pushed me down onto the bed, his body pressing into mine, I felt a rush of vulnerability sweep over me.

His lips were a warm trail, moving from my mouth and down the length of my neck. Nervousness coiled in my stomach, mingling with the thrill of it all. What if he hates the scars? But I shushed that voice; if Brent liked me, he would accept all of me, flaws and histories included.

When he finally pulled away, his eyes dark with desire, he removed his shirt, revealing his toned body. I felt my pulse quicken. The intimacy of the moment escalated as he reached for mine. But then, as the fabric glided off my skin, a sudden silence enveloped us. Brent froze, his expression shifting from desire to something unreadable as his eyes traced the long scar running down my chest, then mapping the smaller scars scattered along my ribs and stomach.

“Are you okay?” I paused, my heart pounding painfully against my rib cage as I reached up, uncertain and vulnerable.

The moment hung heavy in the air; he shook his head vehemently, climbing off me so quickly that the sudden loss of his warmth sent a chill racing down my spine. I sat up, confusion flooding my senses. “What’s wrong? Did I do something?”

Brent stood there, the remnants of our intimacy dissolving between us. He tugged his shirt back on, the fabric crumpling around his torso, and ran a hand through his hair, the gesture laced with frustration. “Why do you have scars all over you?” His voice was low, a mix of concern and discomfort.

As the words spilled from my lips, the weight of the memory resurfaced. “I was in a bad car crash four years ago. I had to have open heart surgery,” I explained, trying to keep my tone steady. I watched the color drain from his face, his brows knitting together in discomfort.

A long sigh escaped him, heavy and laden with an emotion I couldn’t quite decipher. “I’m sorry,” he muttered, his voice barely above a whisper. “But that’s...bad. I didn’t expect…” He trailed off, shaking his head again as if trying to clear it.

“It makes me feel… kind of squeamish to touch them” he admitted, his eyes glancing away, avoiding the testament of my past etched upon my skin.

My heart plummeted, the weight of rejection crashing down upon me like a tidal wave. I had let the hope and excitement build, only for it to crumble in an instant under the realization that my trauma had repelled him.

“I think we should just end it here. sorry,” he added, almost mechanically, before turning to leave the room. The sound of the party resumed its vibrancy, a stark reminder of the dissonance between our worlds.

I watched him walk out, feeling an emptiness settle into my chest. The door slammed behind him, and I sank back into the bed, wrapping my arms around myself as if trying to shield those scars from the world. Noah, My friends, my family—they had embraced me, scars and all. Why couldn’t Brent?

I lay there, staring at the ceiling, feeling the weight of his words pressing down on me. My thoughts spiraled, wondering if my scars were always going to be a barrier, a reminder of a past I couldn’t erase. The party continued downstairs, but all I felt was the silence of my room enveloping me, a somber echo of what had just transpired.

I finally stood from my bed, my body shaking with each sob leaving my mouth. I walked straight into my bathroom, insistent on washing his touch, and this night from my tattered body.

Noah stood with Jolly and Nick, their voices a distant murmur, but his attention had drifted. His eyes were locked on the staircase that you’d just walked up with Brent. There was something about Brent—a way he carried himself, a cocky swagger that made his skin crawl. He didn’t like the guy, not one bit.

Fifteen minutes later, Noah’s unease was proven justified. Brent stomped down the stairs, his expression unfazed and arrogant. He brushed past Noah and the others, heading straight for the kitchen. Noah tilted his head, a knot tightening in his stomach. Where were you? He silently decided to confront Brent.

As he stepped into the kitchen, Noah maneuvered himself silently, standing a few steps behind Brent’s shorter stature. He was leaning against the counter, deep in conversation with some random dude whose name Noah didn’t care to know. Eavesdropping came naturally to him; he would justify anything if it meant looking out for you.

His heart raced when Brent’s laughter cut through the air. “Yeah, I was about to get laid,” he sneered, “until I saw her mangled scars. who the fuck would want to touch that?”

The breath in Noah’s lungs turned hot and escaped his body, choking him as Brent's words sank in. His fists clenched tightly, and he felt the world around him shatter. He could almost hear your voice, the way you’d always brushed off your past with a smile, how brave you were in the face of your demons. But Brent—he had the audacity to belittle you. That was it. Brent had fucked up.

Suddenly, the current conversation shifted; the guy noticed Noah standing there, confusion flickering across his face. It alerted Brent, and he turned around, the mocking grin fading as he saw the fury etched on Noah’s features.

“What’s your problem, man?” Brent started, but Noah didn’t give him a chance to finish. With swift motion, Noah reared back and swung, his fist connecting hard with Brent’s face. The impact sent Brent flying backward, crashing against the counter, glass bottles tumbling to the ground in a cacophony of shattering chaos.

Loud gasps erupted from the partygoers outside the kitchen, a wave of shock sweeping through the crowd. Brent scrambled to his feet, wiping blood from his lip, rage igniting his eyes. But it was too late to back down. Noah launched himself at Brent, tackling him to the ground, a flurry of punches raining down on him, fueled by the anger and pain he felt for you.

“Get off me, you psycho!” Brent shouted, trying to push Noah away. The struggle was chaotic, a whirlwind of flailing limbs and outrage. Just as Noah readied another blow, Jolly charged in, pulling Noah back with surprising strength.

“Noah, stop!” Jolly shouted, his grip firm as he held Noah at bay. “What happened!”

Noah was seething, panting heavily as he glared down at Brent, who was trying to push himself back up, shaking with anger and disbelief. “Get the fuck out of my house,” Noah growled, his voice low and menacing.

Brent’s eyes widened, the cockiness draining from his face. He looked around, seeing the eyes of the few witnesses, the trepidation in Jolly’s grip, and the fire behind Noah’s glare.

With a rage still shimmering in his veins, Brent muttered something under his breath, stumbling out of the kitchen and pushing past a few confused guests. As the tension dissipated, the music seemed to swell once again, an unsettling backdrop to the upheaval that had just occurred.

Noah, freed from Jolly’s hold, took a moment to catch his breath, the adrenaline of the fight slowly beginning to wane, replaced by a deep concern for you. He didn’t care what anyone else thought of the scene he just created; all he could think of was you and how he could protect you from people like Brent. The real battle would be making sure you knew how much you were worth, scars and all.

The steam curled and twisted upwards like tendrils of a ghost, enveloping me in a cocoon of warmth and moisture, yet I felt anything but comforted. My sobs echoed against the bathroom tiles, reverberating with the music of the party that throbbed beneath me. Laughter and music pulsed through the floorboards, but they were alien sounds in this moment, distant and muffled, a reminder of a world I felt unfit to join.

With trembling hands, I wiped my tears away, attempting to compose myself. “Y/n?” A soft voice echoed through the bathroom, as my breath hitched. “I’m fine,” I called out weakly, trying to sound more convincing than I felt, but the tremor in my voice betrayed me. Just as I braced for another wave of tears, the shower door opened and Noah stepped in.

his clothes still on, clinging to him like a second skin. His arms wrapped around me, and I melted against him, the warmth radiating from his body bringing some semblance of solace. I could feel the steady beat of his heart through the fabric of his shirt. The gentle thump soothed me as I softly cried into his chest, his hand combing through my damp hair, as if he could weave away my pain with each passing stroke.

It took a moment to gather my composure, but when I finally pulled back to look at him, I noticed the water swirling around our feet, tinted a soft pink. Panic flared within me as I glanced down at his hands, noticing the cuts marring his knuckles. “Noah, what happened?” My heart raced at the thought of him getting hurt.

His response was almost too casual, a hint of bravado underneath the weight of his words. “I beat Brent’s fucking ass.” The smile that flickered onto my face was unexpected, born from a blend of relief and admiration. I laid my forehead against him, the warmth of his body a protective barrier against the world below.

Noah was gentle, taking the shampoo from the rack and lathering it into my hair, his fingertips pressing against my scalp in a way that felt simultaneously tender and powerful. I closed my eyes, surrendering to the comfort of his presence, letting him wash away not just the remnants of the night, but the anguish that had been clawing at my heart.

He grabbed my loofah, and bodywash, bathing me next. Sending me back 4 years ago, when he did this for me everyday. Once the water turned off, he wrapped a towel around me, the fabric covering me in warmth as he stripped off his wet clothes, every inch of my cheeks heating more at the sight. He returned, focused, practical, and somehow that made my heart swell. Lifting me effortlessly onto the counter, he took the cotton pad and my makeup remover, carefully cleaning away the smudged remnants of the night while stealing glances at me, gauging my reactions.

The simplicity of his gestures, the kindness radiating from each one, made my insides flutter. He was mending not just the mess on my face but the turmoil inside me too. When he disappeared momentarily and returned with one of his old t-shirts and a pair of my underwear, I felt a warmth. He pressed the towel into my skin, drying me off with an intense focus that made me feel seen, cherished.

He pulled the tshirt over my head, before slipping my underwear up my legs. I carefully lifted my hips from the counter, so he could pull them up over my hips. The deep scary feelings I’ve tried to bury for the past few years, slowly making their appearance.

Once I was dressed, he took my hairbrush and began to detangle my hair with the ease, each stroke a reminder of how he understood me, how he always knew how to take care of me when the world felt too heavy. I watched him in the mirror—his brow furrowed with concentration, his lips pressed together in determination.

“Thank you,” I whispered, my voice softer than the droplets of water still clinging to the tiles. He met my gaze, kindness dancing in his eyes.

“No need,” he replied with a lopsided grin. “I’ll always be here for you.” The thudding of my heart, beat wildly against my chest. Our eyes stuck in a heated stare down, waiting to see which of caved first. His hand slowly lifted to cup my cheek. His thumb softly rubbed against my cheek, as he leaned in the tiniest bit closer.

“Noah..” I breathed, my voice just above a whisper. The uncertainty that once filled his brown eyes, were now gone. Filled with a darkness, that I was more than ready to fall into. His lips finally connected to mine in a simple kiss. Almost as if testing the waters.

He pulled away for only a moment, before his other hand slob into my hair, pulling me in for another kiss. He didn’t hold back, as he squeezed himself between my thighs, attacking my lips with so much force. His tongue entered my mouth, as he groaned at the taste of me.

I whimpered against his lips, wanting, needing more of him. He pulled away again, resting his forehead against mine as we both panted. “I love you so fucking much y/n, and I’m tired of fighting it.” He shook his head, before pecking my lips again.

I smiled, wrapping my arms around his naked waist pulling him flush against me. “I love you too Noah.” I smiled softly up at him. He grabbed my thighs, wrapping them around him, before lifting me off the counter, and walking us over the threshold back into my room.

He softly dropped me onto the bed, as grabbed him hand pulling him on top of me. I grabbed the towel still wrapped around him, and pulled it loose. He smirked down at me, before reaching up and pushing my hair off my face. “Are you sure about this?”

My eyes flew back up to his before I nodded my head. “I’m positive Noah….please.” Without another word, he leaned down catching my lips into another kiss. As he kissed me, his hand trailed up my thigh, pushing it back and spreading me open.

His tongue slid in my mouth, as his fingers carefully moved my panties over before sinking two of them into me. I moaned against his mouth, as he pulled away smiling. “You sound so pretty baby.” His voice was low, and rough. I whimpered, as I softly bucked my hips into it.

After a few more thrusts he pulled his fingers out, sticking them in his mouth pulling them out with a groan. “And you taste even better.” He lifted himself off of me, grabbing the hem of my shirt.

He slowly pulled it off as I laid underneath him, a rush of warmth and trepidation surging through me. The lamp light in my room, casted a golden hue on everything in the room. It felt as if the world outside had ceased to exist—a serene bubble where only the two of us resided.

Even though Noah had seen my scars a million times before, an insidious wave of insecurity washed over me. As his gaze drifted over the pink lines that traced my skin, I couldn’t help but hold my breath.

A shaky exhale escaped my lips, a reflection of my nerves. Noah, always attuned to my feelings, noticed immediately. His eyes softened, filled with a understanding that spoke volumes. He leaned down, and before I could fully process what was happening, I felt the warmth of his tongue glide along the long scar that ran down my chest between my breasts. An unexpected jolt of pleasure coursed through me, mingled with vulnerability.

He continued his descent, his lips softly placing tender kisses upon each of my scars. With every touch, he seemed to dissolve the doubts that gnawed at the edges of my mind. I could feel each light brush of his lips, each gentle kiss, healing parts of me I thought were beyond repair.

“You are so beautiful,” he whispered against my skin, his voice barely above a breath. The words lingered in the air, wrapping around my heart like a soothing balm. It surprised me how true they felt, even after what happened tonight. He looked up, deep into my eyes, his sincerity gleaming like a beacon in the dim lighting.

My pulse raced, and from deep within me, the knots of self-doubt began to unravel. Noah had a way of making me feel seen, as if he could peer into my soul and appreciate every scar etched into it. Each imperfection, every faint line was an emblem of survival, milestones of resilience—but in that moment, they felt less like burdens and more like beautiful parts of my story.

He returned to my lips, kissing me softly, allowing the heat and intimacy of our connection to wash over us. I melted into him, giving in to the moment, and for the first time, I felt as if I could shed my insecurities, if only for a while.

He grabbed the sides of my underwear, pulling them off. He laid back onto me before kissing me hotly, and taking no time to slowly push into me. I gasped, digging my nails into his back at the burning stretch. He grabbed my jaw softly bringing my eyes to his. “Are you okay baby?”

I nodded, lifting my head to kiss his lips. I softly bit on his bottom lip, pulling on it softly. He grunted, as his hips roughly snapped against mine. “Please Noah…” I whined, pulling him into me. He lifted up, caging my head in between his arms. He stared down at me, as he pounded into me mercilessly.

“Fuck baby you feel so good” he groaned, above me. The pleasure on his face made me feral. I dug my heel into the mattress, using all my force to flip our bodies over. His eyes widened in shock, as huge grin formed on his lips. “Fuck baby, you gonna ride me?” He almost whimpered.

My pussy throbbed at his words. Having my big tatted mainly best friend whimpering underneath was not something I ever imagined, but am so fucking lucky to experience. I leaned down, trailing kisses down his throat while he groaned. I leaned back up, grabbing his dick, and hovering back over it.

We both let out low groans, as I sank back down. “Fuck Noah you’re so big.” I whined, slowly rocking my hips back forth. “Yeah?” He breathed, gripping my hips tightly. I nodded my head, placing my hands against his chest.

He groaned at my sluggish pace, as I smirked down at him, enjoying my teasing game. After a few minutes, he was done with my teasing. His hand shot up, wrapping around my throat. He pulled me down until our noses were touching, as a cocky smile made its way to his face.

“You really thought I was gonna let you take control?” He growled, brushing his lips against mine. “I-..” my sentence was cut short, as his hips fucked up into me hard and fast. My nails dug into his chest, gripping on for dear life.

His fingers tightened around my throat as he finally connected our lips into a sloppy kiss. Lips, tongues, and teeth clashing. He pushed me back, making me sit up straight on top of him. He reached up, shoving two fingers in my mouth, as I moaned around them, sucking on them hard.

He slowly slid them out, running them down my throat, down my chest and stopping to squeeze my tit. “C’mon baby. You gonna cum for me?” He panted, continuing his decent until his fingers reached my swollen clit.

I threw my head back with a moan, in love with how he was making me feel. I leaned back, placing my hands right above his knees behind me, as I continued riding him. “Fuuuuck…” I groaned as his fingers sped up.

I felt my orgasm rising with each thrust of his hips, and stroke of his fingers. “I’m gonna cum.” I whined, looking down at him. The sight was beautiful. His brows were furrowed, and his lips were parted, as he released ragged breaths.

“C’mon baby give it to me. Cum on my dick.” He groaned finally looking up at me. As soon as we made eye contact, my orgasm shook my body. “Good fucking girl.” He grunted, as he fucked me through it. I huffed, falling onto his chest as thrusted a few more times finally releasing into me with a groan.

We laid there for what felt like hours, catching our breaths just holding each other. He placed a kiss on top of my head, before gently pushing me off onto the bed beside him. He reached down grabbing the towel he wore earlier, and cleaned us off.

Once we were clean he grabbed my comforter, pulling it over us. He pulled me into his arms, as I snuggled deep into his chest. “I love you so much y/n. You’re the most beautiful person I have ever laid my eyes on. I will spend every minute proving that to you from now on. Please don’t let some dick head make you think differently.”

I felt my eyes well up with tears again, as I placed a gentle kiss to the middle of his chest. “I love you.”

[adverbally]

Together We’ll Break These Chains of Love

Written for the @steddieangstyaugust prompt “Miscommunication” | wc: 1,599 | rated: E | cw: restraints, sexual content, traumatic flashback, references to past torture | tags: kink negotiation gone wrong, aka steve is way too confident in his ability to bounce back from being held captive and tortured, light BDSM, praise kink | title from “Chains of Love” by Erasure

———

The handcuffs are cool as they lock around Steve’s wrists with a final-sounding click. He welcomes the chill, since the rest of him feels too hot with anticipation and excitement and want. If he focuses on the cold metal, he won’t think about the last time he was restrained like this, hands joined in front of him, beaten and bruised—

Eddie tugs on the short chain between the cuffs, testing their security. “Too tight?”

“No, they’re good.” It’s not a lie. The cuffs aren’t the problem. And actually, he’s handling this better than he thought he would.

“Good.” Eddie steps closer, delicately trails his fingers up from Steve’s wrists, along his arm, around his shoulder. It makes Steve shudder a little. “You’re so beautiful, being so good for me.” With a guiding hand on the back of Steve’s neck, he brings their lips together in a gentle kiss.

Steve quickly forgets the coldness of the handcuffs as a hot flush comes over him at Eddie’s praise. “Thank you,” he mumbles, looking at the messy floor of Eddie’s room. “Sir.”

Adding the honorific felt right. Eddie hadn’t mentioned what Steve should call him, but he thought there should be some distinction between his sweet, goofy boyfriend and the dominant personality he expected to see tonight.

Eddie raises his brows, looking pleasantly surprised. “And so polite, too.” His smile takes on a bit of an edge. “We’ll see how long you can mind your manners.”

He guides Steve to the bed, gentle pressure on his shoulders directing him to sit on the edge. Eddie sinks to his knees in front of him. “I have two rules for you tonight, sweetheart. First, I want you to keep your hands to yourself. That’s what the cuffs are for.” Eddie runs his hands up Steve’s thighs, ruffling the hair against the grain. “If you touch me without permission, there will be consequences. Do you understand?”

“Yes, sir.” Steve’s mouth is so dry it’s sticky, but he can already feel himself relaxing. He doesn’t have to think about what to do with his hands, doesn’t have to worry about being charming enough or experienced enough. All he has to do is follow the rules.

“The other rule is that you can’t come until I say so. I need you to tell me when you’re getting close and ask politely so you can get your reward.”

Steve’s stomach flips. That part had been his idea when they brainstormed this last week. What had Eddie called it, a scene? Like they were writing a script and putting on a play? As silly as it sounds, Steve likes being able to anticipate what Eddie will ask of him, likes knowing exactly what he needs to do to be good. It’s a safety net he never knew he was missing.

“Yes, sir.”

Eddie reaches for the waistband of Steve’s boxers. “Do you want to practice first?” Hooking his long fingers under the fabric, he eases them down Steve’s hips, wiggling him slightly to get them out from under him and tugging them off once they’re free. “Why don’t you show me how politely you can ask to be touched?”

Steve isn’t sure he can speak at all, not when Eddie is looking up at him through his lashes, his dark eyes shining in the lamplight, his tongue darting out to wet his lips. His jaw works uselessly for a moment before he croaks, “Will you please touch me, sir?”

“Good boy,” Eddie praises, dipping his head to mouth at Steve’s inner thighs. Between wet kisses, he scrapes his teeth across the sensitive skin. Long fingers wrap around Steve’s knees to spread his legs further apart and make more room for Eddie.

It’s an exquisite tease. Steve knows Eddie is doing this on purpose, trying to make him be more specific with his language, testing his patience. He can do what Eddie wants. “Please, will you suck my cock?”

Eddie grins, his mouth already looking red and wet. “Of course, baby. Thank you for asking so nicely.”

Maybe it shouldn’t be such a surprise that Eddie swallows him right down, but it is. Usually he takes his time, playing with Steve’s balls, licking up the sides of his cock like it’s an ice cream cone, tongue lapping at his slit to taste him straight from the source. Instead, he engulfs him almost completely, all the way to the back of his throat and most of the way down Steve’s shaft.

“Fuck,” Steve wheezes, fighting to keep his whole body from jackknifing at the intense sensation. The cuffs dig into his wrists as he instinctually tries to separate them and bury them in the sheets on either side of him.

The little noise Eddie makes is amused, but more importantly it vibrates through Steve’s cock.

Steve clenches his jaw so hard his hearing gets weird, the wet noises of Eddie’s mouth and their heavy breathing sounding muffled. God, this is harder than he thought it would be. He forces his hands to stay up in front of his chest, almost in a prayer position, so he won’t reach out for Eddie. He would normally have his fingers threaded in Eddie’s hair by now, just grounding himself until Eddie encourages him to pull. It’s like muscle memory.

Eddie pulls away with a wet pop. “You’re being so good for me, Stevie.”

“Thank you, sir.” He’s proud to keep his voice so even, especially when Eddie sucks him down again mid-sentence.

His abs hurt from bracing himself, his whole body tense as he reminds himself not to move. His feet remain planted so he doesn’t accidentally kick Eddie. His hips don’t jerk upwards so he doesn’t choke Eddie. His hands… Oh, his hands are trembling, resisting the handcuffs even as he pointedly does not touch. And when Eddie uses a forearm to hold his lower body in place, he’s suddenly–

back in the depths of Starcourt Mall, in the Russian lab, restrained at the thighs and upper arms and wrists, his whole body hurting from the beating they gave him but he’ll take more pain as long as they don’t touch Robin, feeling her warmth at his back as the warmth of the truth serum bubbles like champagne in his veins, then someone is grabbing his hand and he doesn’t like the tool they’re holding and he can’t get away–

“Steve!” Eddie sounds frantic, like this isn’t the first time he’s called Steve’s name. He’s holding one of Steve’s hands, though the other one isn’t far away either, and he doesn’t have any torture devices that Steve can see but the panic swelling in him isn’t governed by such logic.

“Let me go!” Steve jerks his hands away from Eddie, tries to wiggle away.

Eddie looks like he’s about to cry, eyes wide and wet and horrified. “Let me unlock the cuffs, baby, we’ll get you out.”

Steve hadn’t even noticed that Eddie was holding the key, quick to end the scene as soon as he noticed Steve freaking out. He blinks down at him, and this is certainly goofy boyfriend Eddie and not dominant Eddie, and he suddenly feels ashamed of his reaction. Eddie wouldn’t hurt him in any situation, not unless he asked him to, and here Steve was, acting like Eddie wanted to rip his fingernail off instead of checking in with him.

Eddie takes Steve’s distraction as an opportunity to unlock the handcuffs. His movements are quick and efficient. Maybe Steve will be vaguely jealous about that later. But for now, Eddie is pulling the metal away from his wrists and massaging at the red, chafed skin there. “I’m sorry, Stevie, I shouldn’t have–”

“No, I should’ve told you when we planned this.” Steve is quick to take the blame. “I thought I could handle it and I couldn’t and I put you in a situation where you were scared for me because I lied to you–”

“Shh, it’s okay.” From anyone else it might sound condescending, but Eddie’s voice is so soothing and Steve knows he’s genuinely trying to comfort him. A little bit of tension seeps out of him, followed by a little bit more when Eddie brushes Steve’s hair back from his face and kisses his forehead. “Right, you’re okay?” He looks at Steve intently.

Other than the slight awkwardness of being naked while Eddie is still fully dressed, Steve feels fine once the cuffs are off him. “I’m okay. You’re okay?”

Eddie smiles at him, a little ruefully. “I’m okay. I think we’re done for tonight, though.”

“With the bondage stuff, yeah,” Steve agrees, “but the night might still be young enough for hot cocoa and bad movies. After I shower,” he grimaces.

“The Munson hot chocolate recipe will not be constrained by mortal constructs such as time,” he intones as he gets to his feet. “So it’ll be ready as soon as you’re out of the shower.” He offers a hand to help Steve stand too. “You sure you’re good? I can go with you.”

Steve leans in for a tender kiss. “Nah, go make my cocoa.” Another peck. “Love you.”

“Love you too. Go get clean.”

Steve will let the hot water wash away any remaining wrongness from the evening. He’ll curl up on the couch next to Eddie in his softest pajamas, with a fresh mug of hot cocoa with marshmallows. He’ll listen to Eddie’s running commentary on whatever they’re watching, feeling his voice resonate where his head rests against his chest. It sounds like heaven.

Everything else can wait until tomorrow.

[moonybug444]

(sorry for my bad english!) hii! I found your account and i want to tell you that your stories are, like, a GREAT comfort, the few you have are, it sounds weird but, in my opinion reading stories (or writing) about abusive relationships is an escape route to avoid falling into those relationships in real life, I mean, i read them and i get the adrenaline because of reading it instead of living them dhfjkshfsk so yes, they are also very, very well written <:

can i ask for a story where Connie is a little older thanreader, and constantly manipulates her with the excuse that he knows better and reader believes him, because, for a long time, he was the only older figure she had, something like that, I don't know. , bonus if reader cries hysterically in his arms (his fault, of course, he slapped her or something)

i really agree with your take on the whole writing about traumatic relationships because that’s how i feel. i’ve been thru so so much and i know it’s different but this is most definitely how i cope, im glad someone else can relate to me especially during these times i’ve felt so alone💗 you english is beautiful by the way, thank you 😊

tw: grooming - reader was 17 when she meant 24 year old connie / mental abuse / physical abuse - from connie and from readers dad / very mean and manipulative? connie / unestablished relationships / not proofread

such a baby

——————————————————————————————————

“really thought you were over that stupid shit y’know, (name)?” he looks down at you, sitting on the floor at the foot of the bed and spits, “you’re still just a fucking kid.”

he hates it when you cry. you know he does, he knows he does, so you don’t know why it feels like him making it happen is always his main goal.

you sit there silently looking up at him as he scrolls on his phone. after a couple minutes he puts it down and looks down at you.

“you’re gonna have to find a place to go.” your eyes widen all the more and you feel your heart beat quicken. it scares you when he says stuff like that. find a place to stay? where could you possibly go? you feel like you’ve been with connie so long, he’s taken care of you for so long…

“w-what?” you get up suddenly, trying to ease your way into his lap. you’re get even more nervous even harder when he meanly pushes you away, you pretty eyes water.

“c-connie..! hic wh-what— how will i—?” you can’t even finish your sentence you’re so shaken. you really can’t help it, you can’t imagine any life without connie. how could you? he’s the one that took you in, he’s the one that knows exactly what to do when you don’t, he tells you what to do when you’re just about to make the wrong choice. he’s shown you what love is when nobody else could.

while you’re breaking down crying you can tell connie’s losing his patience by the second, he’s getting up waving his hands all type of ways getting all in your face, yelling all types of nonsense.

“dammit (name), shut the fuck up, y’know i hate that crybaby shit, go fix yourself before i do it for you” when you don’t shut up he doesn’t give you a second warning, just slaps you clean across your face. you damn near fly across the room from the impact, connie’s just so much stronger than you.

“—oww ..!” your body shakes as you try to lift yourself up, your crying even harder now. “y-you’re a liar…! you said—you said hic you were d-done hitting me—!”

he stomps over to you, eyes wide and mad while he starts dragging you by your little arm to the front door, “who the fuck do you think your talking to?! i don’t owe you shit you know that, little girl?!”

connie goes to open the front door, “i’m fucking tired, (name) i’ll sleep like a fucking baby without your fucking crying tonight—”

when you don’t stop he freaks out a little more. he hates when you don’t listen.

“think i fucking won’t?” he gets louder, “think i won’t put you out this fucking house, right now?! i don’t give a fuck what time it is—!”

connie drags you back to your shared bedroom and starts ripping your clothes out wherever he can find them and putting them in so random bags, while you cry and hyperventilate. he doesn’t give one fuck, to him you deserve this shit. you’re always running your mouth.

“who got you all this shit, huh?!” he moves on to the vanity and starts packing all your cute little jewelry, breaking some in the process.

he stops for a second and just looks down at you. veins popping out of his neck as he screams, with the bag he’s stuffing all your belonging in tightly gripped in his hand and that mean look of sternness in his eyes, you realize just how how much older connie really is. just how scary he is. with him being 7 years older than you and all, you’ve always put connie on the high horse, always seen it as a flex. but you don’t think you’ve ever really seen it until now. how truly scary he can be.

“you wanna go back, (name)?” he takes a deep breath. “you wanna go back to that shit everyday? living in that fucking house, getting treated like some fucking shit?”

you sob when he finally lets go of your now bruised arm. he goes to sit on the bed.

you were 17 and connie had just turned 24. it was late out when you ran away from home. you were sick of it. your dad was terrible to you, all the yelling and screaming and the bruises—you couldn’t take it anymore. connie was one of your friends older cousin, you had meant him at her birthday party and you think you fell in love. he just seemed so…mature. at the end of the night when he saw you all alone, he went up to you and asked if you were alright. turns out your dad was pissed so he didn’t pick you up. connie couldn’t be more excited to hear that shit. cute little shy teenager, and she’s got daddy issues? he hit the jackpot. he ended up taking you home and giving you his number, in case you ever, “needed anything.”

you’d call connie whenever, no matter what. he always knew exactly what to say.

one night your dad blacked your eye and you called connie. connie showed up 8 minutes later and came barging in, beating the shit out of your dad. that was the last night you heard from your dad and the last night you ever weren’t by connie’s side. you’ve been living with him ever since. you’ll never forget that first night he held you in his bed. he whispered about how everything would be ok and how much he’d take care of you. and you believed it.

it’s been only 2 years since then and connie’s still that ever so cool senior that you look up to. you love connie to death and you don’t think you ever won’t. he knows you’re completely dependent on him now too, he thinks he'll always use it to his advantage.

“you’re such a baby.” you look up at him and he nearly melts, he wants to fucking ruin you. you eyes are all glossy and swollen from crying, your lips are stilly wobbly from the wailing, and your tears—don’t even get him started on the fucking tears.

connie thinks about how perfect you are.. you’re already as naive as you could possibly be, but the age gap just puts it more in his favor.

you look in his eyes to see if that gaze is still there…you know, the loving one even after everything, and it is.

“i love you….” you whisper it like it’s a curse, anxious for his answer.

connie smiles and kisses your forehead watching you light right back up just from the small gesture.

“i know you do.”

[tipsynight0]

Ghosts in the code

Paring - ben drowned x female reader

Synopsis - reader dies on a mission, in ben's grief he makes her in the digtal realm to cope.

Trigger warnings: death, shooting, guns, blood, grief, i think that's all but its super sad so be warned??

Word count - 2.1K

Author’s note - so I woke up at 7:45am and decided to finally write this damn story, I had made it in the draft but never completed it. I thought, huh they’ve had too much fluff and to much Jeff the killer. Soo I hope you guys like being emotionally traumatized this early in the morning <3

It was supposed to be an easy mission. Jack was off to find his next meal, and (Y/N) just had to make a target disappear—another loose end tied up. She could’ve handled it alone, but Jack insisted on tagging along. And Ben, always the overprotective one, had been unusually tense, practically forcing her to let him come. That last mission had shaken him. He hadn’t been able to let go of how close she’d come to dying.

"Jesus Christ, Ben, I’ll be fine," (Y/N) snapped, stuffing long sleeves into her bag, her irritation spilling over.

Ben hovered near her, eyes clouded with worry that he couldn’t hide, no matter how hard he tried. He wasn’t his usual laid-back self—not this time. "You almost got yourself killed last time, (Y/N). This isn't something to brush off," he muttered, his voice low and laced with concern.

She rolled her eyes, zipping up her bag. "I know. But I can handle this. I don’t need you breathing down my neck." She sighed, softening a bit as she saw the tension in his face. "I’ll be back in no time. I love you, okay?"

But Ben didn’t respond. He just stared at her for a long moment, his face hard, jaw clenched. Without a word, he turned and walked out of the room. The door shut softly behind him, but it felt like a wall slamming down between them.

(Y/N) exhaled, the weight of his silence settling on her. She hadn’t meant to fight with him before leaving, but it always seemed to end like this when it came to her missions. Shrugging it off, she grabbed her bag and headed out with Jack.

The house was old, creaky, the kind that seemed to breathe with the wind. The floorboards groaned beneath her boots as she crept down the dimly lit hallway, gripping her knife tightly. The air was thick with tension, heavy with the kind of silence that made every noise echo louder than it should. She was looking for a blue door. Inside, a scared twenty-year-old kid was hiding, a witness who’d seen too much—a fleeting glimpse of the mansion’s dark secrets.

It was routine. She’d done this a thousand times before, but something felt off. Her skin prickled with unease as she approached the door, the silence pressing down on her like a weight. Then, a scream—low, guttural—pierced the air. The door flew open with a crash, and she froze.

The kid stood there, trembling, his wild eyes locked onto hers. In his hands was a shotgun, shaking as violently as he was. Fear twisted his features, but before she could react, he pulled the trigger.

The blast was deafening. In that moment, time seemed to slow, her world narrowing to the sound of the explosion and the searing pain that followed. It hit her square in the chest, a force so strong it knocked her off her feet, her body crashing into the floor.

Her back slammed against the hardwood with a sickening thud, but it was the burning that consumed her. The heat spread through her chest like wildfire, every nerve screaming in agony. She gasped, choking on the blood that filled her lungs, her breath coming in shallow, ragged bursts. The room spun, her vision blurring as the pain became unbearable.

All she could think about was Ben. His stupid, overprotective warnings. He had been right. He had been fucking right, and she never told him. He didn’t even say “I love you” back.

Tears welled in her eyes as she coughed, blood sputtering from her lips. The taste of iron coated her mouth as her hands clawed at the floor, trying to grasp onto something—anything. But she was slipping, fast. Her vision grew darker, the ringing in her ears louder, drowning out everything else. Ben’s face flickered in her mind, that crooked smile, the way he laughed when he beat her at video games, the warmth in his touch when he wasn’t being so damn stubborn.

A final breath rattled in her chest, and everything went black.

Jack pushed through the wet forest, his steps heavy and labored, (Y/N)'s limp body cradled in his arms. His hands were slick with blood, her blood, the smell thick in the cold air. He moved as quickly as he could, but her weight, combined with the dread gnawing at his gut, slowed him down. He knew—he could feel it—that this wasn’t just another injury. This was different. Worse. The kind of wound you didn’t walk away from.

Her pulse was barely there, faint and fluttering, like it was already halfway to giving up. Her skin had turned ghostly pale, and the blood, it just wouldn’t stop. It soaked into his clothes, warm and sticky, every step leaving a trail of red behind them. The mansion wasn’t far, but it felt like miles, and with every step, Jack’s fear grew.

He burst through the mansion doors, frantic, his voice hoarse as he shouted for help.

Jeff and Ben were on the couch, immersed in a game of Mario Kart. Ben, still brooding from their earlier fight, didn’t even look up. His anger kept him rooted to his seat, eyes fixed on the screen.

But Jeff’s gaze drifted to the hallway, to the trail of blood that smeared the floorboards. The sight made him drop his controller, his face twisting in confusion and horror as he followed the crimson path to where Jack stood, soaked in it.

"Ben…" Jeff’s voice was tight, like he already knew what was coming. Ben ignored him at first, too wrapped up in his frustration to care. But when he finally turned, his blood ran cold.

(Y/N) lay cradled in Jack’s arms, her shirt torn open, exposing the gruesome mess of her chest. Buckshot wounds peppered her torso, blood oozing from every gash. Her chest barely rose, barely fell, and her face—oh god, her face. She was so pale. Too pale.

Ben stumbled forward, his legs weak beneath him, until he collapsed at her side. "No. No, no, no, no, no!" His voice cracked, raw with panic and disbelief. He reached for her hand—her hand that had once been so warm, so full of life. Now, it was cold, stiffening with every passing second. His fingers curled around hers, squeezing, as if he could force life back into her with sheer will.

"Jack, what the fuck happened?! You had one job, one fucking job! You were supposed to keep her safe!" His voice rose, laced with fury and heartbreak. But there was no answer. Jack stood frozen, guilt etched in every line of his face.

Ben’s anger melted into desperation as he cupped her face, brushing her blood-matted hair back, pressing frantic kisses to her forehead, her cheeks, her lips—anywhere he could. "Please, don’t do this," he whispered, his voice shaking. "I’m sorry. I’m sorry for everything. I love you, just—please. Don’t leave me. Don’t leave me, (Y/N)."

But her chest had stopped moving. Her pulse had gone. (Y/N) was gone.

She died wrapped in Ben’s arms that night, her body slack against him as the life drained from her. He held her tighter than he ever had, as if he could somehow hold her soul in his embrace, keep her from slipping away. But there was nothing left to hold onto. Jeff and Toby had to pull him off her, restrain him as he screamed her name, his voice raw and broken. He fought against them, desperate to stay with her, but they carried her body out. The Operator spoke of capturing her soul, of preserving her somehow, but the words were meaningless to Ben. Ben had spent countless days and sleepless nights locked away in his dimly lit room, the walls closing in around him as the weight of his grief pressed heavily on his chest. The world outside felt like a distant memory, a place where laughter echoed and sunlight broke through the darkness—a world that no longer existed for him. Instead, he found himself drowning in a sea of despair, surrounded by his computer screens, each one a window to a digital realm that was both a refuge and a prison.

He scoured the internet obsessively, combing through files, piecing together fragments of code like a mad scientist trying to resurrect the dead. Hours turned into days as he meticulously recorded long sessions of every proxy’s voice—voices that had once brought him comfort now echoed with haunting reminders of what he had lost. He captured every laugh, every snarky remark, every heartfelt confession, determined to weave them into the fabric of his creation. It had to be perfect. It had to feel real.

The others in the mansion watched him with a mix of concern and resignation. They agreed to his demands, knowing he was lost in his pain, hoping that his obsession might bring him some semblance of peace. But Ben wasn’t looking for peace; he was searching for a way to bring (Y/N) back. He wanted to trap her essence in this digital world, to create a sanctuary where she would never leave him again.

The night finally came when he felt ready. With trembling hands, he slipped the cartridge into the console, his heart racing as the screen flickered to life, illuminating the room with a soft glow. The title appeared, its letters swirling in hues of blue and green, memories end. He pressed play, and the familiar loading screen unfolded before him, sending him spiraling into the depths of his creation.

As he traversed the digital halls of the mansion, a sense of anticipation mixed with dread washed over him. Every pixel, every shadow had been crafted with care, echoing the real place they had shared so many moments. It was both exhilarating and gut-wrenching to see her face again—her features rendered flawlessly, as if she were just a breath away.

Then, he entered his bedroom, and there she was, standing in the center of the room, bathed in the soft glow of the digital light. His heart raced, a wild mixture of hope and anguish surging through him as her voice filled the air. “Ben, I have to go on my mission today. Don’t be mad, please.”

The sound of her voice pierced through the haze of his grief, and he felt a fresh wave of tears stinging his eyes. It was her—his (Y/N)—and yet, she wasn’t really there. This was a simulacrum, a mere imitation of the vibrant person he loved. He plastered on a smile, forcing himself to believe in the illusion, even as his heart ached with the reality of her absence.

“Of course, I could never be angry with you,” he said, his voice catching in his throat as he stepped closer. He reached out, gently brushing a strand of her hair behind her ear, the familiar motion bringing a warmth to his chest that he had thought lost forever. But as his fingers met her cool, pixelated skin, a rush of sorrow flooded him.

This wasn’t real. She wasn’t real. She was just a ghost, a whisper of what had once been. The weight of his actions crashed over him like a tidal wave; he had trapped her in a prison of his making, and for all his effort, he was still utterly alone.

“Ben, are you okay?” she asked, her eyes wide with concern—so genuine, so achingly familiar. But he could only nod, fighting to hold back the tears that threatened to spill over. “I’ll be back soon,” she continued, that same playful smile he had loved so much lighting up her face.

And yet, the more she spoke, the more he felt the chasm of loss stretching between them. Each word was a reminder that no matter how perfect this world was, it could never replace the warmth of her laughter, the touch of her hand, the way she had always known how to pull him out of the darkness.

“Just be careful,” he whispered, his voice breaking, a crack in the facade he had built. She smiled at him, and for a fleeting moment, the ache of his heart softened. But as he gazed into her eyes, he realized the painful truth no matter how many times he played this game, no matter how much he crafted her voice and presence, it would never fill the void left by her absence.

[lazycats-stuff]

Okay hear me out, reader x batfamily okay? The reader is 2nd youngest (like 14) and recently during a mission, they got sent to alternate reality where they’re a bad guy, and witnessed themself kill the batfamily? Obviously you don’t have to write out that part if it makes you uncomfortable, but any ways. Once they return they distant themselves from the family beacuse they’re scared they’re going to hurt the family and turn out like the other evil them? The batfamily has enough of this after a while and corners them and kinda pressures them into telling what’s going on with them, and the reader kinda breaks down and says what they saw and that they’re scared they’re going to hurt their family. The batfam comforts them and tells them that, their nothing like their evil self? Somethin like thattt

Oh yeah... My poor reader is going to be traumatized.

Summary: (Y/N) gets thrown into a an alternate dimension. He didn't expect to be evil.

Warnings: murders, major characters death, but not really, alternate universe, angst and fluff,

(Y/N) had a bad feeling about all of this. He was back in Gotham, his home city. But there was something that is off. His family encountered Klarion and that's when the fighting started.

The fight was a blur for (Y/N), but he remembered that Klarion threw him into a portal. After an uncomfortable travel, he landed on top of a building, near GCPD.

And something is so off. It's too quiet for (Y/N). Now he felt like Bruce, knowing how the city felt. Was he turning into Bruce? (Y/N) shuddered a little bit, not wanting to be Bruce.

It isn't a necessarily bad thing, but still... One thing is for certain.

This is not his Gotham. Nope.

" What is going on here? " (Y/N) asked himself, trying to calibrate his comms. When he couldn't find their channel for their own comms, now he knew.

This is an alternate universe. Of course Klarion would throw him into an alternate universe or reality. Now there is a new question that he needed to answer.

What has happened with his family?

Were they still the same? Did somebody go insane? Did somebody turn into a villain? (Y/N) shook his head.

Nope. He won't think like that. He is going to hope that his family is fine. But where should he go first? GCPD? Should he find Gordon? Or his father?

What about the rouges? You know, Two Face, Penguin... Is there still Joker here? He hoped that there isn't. He didn't have any will power to deal with him.

Well, James Gordon is going to be his best choice. And besides, there is a bat signal up in the dark sky. He started moving, eager to move and get back home quickly.

Should he go to the Justice League HQ? You know, to find doctor Fate?

If Bruce was here they would have a plan set in place already and 5 different strategies how to approach this entire thing.

He landed quietly on the roof of the building, dusting his cape off. Gordon saw him and pointed a gun at him.

" What are you doing here? " Gordon asked, voice full of anger. What the hell has happened? (Y/N) stayed calm as ever.

" Okay, I'm assuming I'm not liked here. " (Y/N) said, trying to figure out what is happening.

" What the hell are you on about?! We hate you. " Gordon said and (Y/N) didn't know how to feel.

" Can I ask what happened? " (Y/N) prompted.

" Why are you wearing a suit? Are you working with Batman? After everything you have done?! "

Okay... He is a villain then. Oh no. Oh God.

" What if I tell you I'm not from here? I'm from another universe. " (Y/N) said bluntly and Gordon looked at him in shock.

" What? "

" Yup. I know how it sounds, but back in my universe, I'm a good guy and Batman's kid. " (Y/N) tried to explain and Gordon lowered his gun.

" Oh God. " Gordon said, rubbing his face.

" Now that we have gone over this, can you explain to me what the hell happened? I want to know why you pointed a gun at me. " (Y/N) said, moving closer to Gordon.

" You are a villain. You would make Joker jealous. " Gordon said and (Y/N) couldn't keep his reaction in anymore.

" What? What do you mean would? " (Y/N) asked, tilting his head.

" Joker is dead here. I made sure he burned. Then you, well, the other version, if that's even correct term, stepped onto the Gotham scene. You made a lot of waves and Batman is probably working overtime in order to bring you to Blackgate. " Gordon said, rubbing his forehead.

" I want to ask what I've done, but honestly I don't want to know. " (Y/N) said, looking at the city skyline.

" How screwed is Gotham? " (Y/N) asked, looking down at the Wayne Enterprises, the highest point in Gotham.

" Very. With you in it, even more than usual. " Gordon explained and (Y/N) couldn't help but sigh.

" Oh God. "

Gordon was going to say something more, but a broadcast from the building nearby. It was him. With his family on their knees, masks off. What the fuck?

Oh God. This a public execution. (Y/N) paled. No, nononono- A shot after shot rang out and (Y/N) couldn't keep his tears in anymore. He covered his mouth with his hand, sniffling quietly.

What has he done? Oh God, what has he done? Gordon was silent, forcing himself to stay calm with a stoic look on his face.

(Y/N) fell down on his knees, forcing himself to breathe. Just breathe. He looked up and jumped back.

" Doctor Fate? " (Y/N) asked quietly, trying to get up.

" I'm here to help you get back home. Your father contacted me, telling what Klarion did to you. "

(Y/N) nodded, standing up. He felt so lightheaded.

" Gordon? " (Y/N) said, taking a deep breath, trying to compose himself.

" Yes? "

" Honor them. Please honor them. Don't let him win. " (Y/N) requested and Gordon nodded, eyes glassy.

" Thank you Gordon. " (Y/N) said, before allowing Doctor Fate to send him back to the same universe.

(Y/N) shuddered as he was back in his universe, falling down to his knees again. He noticed that he was in the Batcave and while he is relieved to be back home, he couldn't look Bruce in the eyes. Nor his brothers.

He brushed past everyone, making a run for the locker rooms. He basically ripped the suit of off him and made a run again for his room. His brothers shouted for him, but (Y/N) didn't hear it.

He locked his room and got under the covers. Nope. He is not leaving this room for the life of him. Not happening. Patrol and any other missions are going to be out of the question.

How can he work with them when he can't even look them in the eyes?

Bruce really wanted to know what happened, but Doctor Fate didn't have an answer. Bruce knew that he would need to talk to (Y/N), but that is not going to be easy when (Y/N) refuses to be anywhere near them.

Bruce could see that the others were worried. (Y/N) has never tried to distance himself from them.

" What do we do B? " Dick asked, crossing his arms.

" We have to talk to him. "

" You know, he was taking his suit off as if it burned him. " Damian chimed in, looking down at his crossed arms. Bruce sighed quietly, waving four of his sons forward. All of them shared a hug.

" We will find a way to talk to him. We will find out what has happened to him. " Bruce said, squeezing his sons a bit tighter. After he let them go, they were all a little bit emotional. Even Damian. Damian and (Y/N) are close and it hurt him when he ran passed everyone.

He knew that (Y/N) becomes withdrawn when he is upset or angry, but they confided in one another.

" We will find a way boys. We will find a way... " Bruce said, closing his eyes for a moment.

It has been a week since (Y/N) came back and the situation is alarming. (Y/N) closed himself in a room and didn't allow anyone to enter besides Alfred.

Alfred was trying to figure out what was happening with him, but (Y/N) closed himself off. He made so many walls, so many defenses on and Alfred wondered what could have traumatized his adopted grandson this much.

Bruce and everyone else knew that they had to take this head on and make an intervention. No one wanted to see (Y/N) spiral, but he is on a good way to spiral completely out of control.

They made sure that (Y/N) had left the room. They watched him to pinpoint the time when he would be in the kitchen. After they saw (Y/N) in the kitchen they all steeped in, blocking all the exit points.

" (Y/N), " Bruce started, trying not break as he took in the appearance of his son. His eyes were bloodshot and he looked so tired. So emotionally drained. " We are worried for you. We wanted to give you some time to come to us, but you are spiraling and I won't let you go down that path. " Bruce said, heart clenching at the panic in (Y/N)'s eyes.

" Talk to us please. " Bruce pleaded with (Y/N). He knew that (Y/N) was looking for a way out, but he couldn't let him out.

(Y/N) shook his head. Bruce isn't going to yell.

" (Y/N), please. You can tell us. We are here for you. You can confide in us. " Damian pleaded and (Y/N) started crying. Bruce was mortified as he watched his son break.

" I don't want to hurt you! I don't want to become like him! I don't want to! " (Y/N) cried out and Bruce quickly stepped closer to his son, allowing him to wrap himself around him and (Y/N) refused to let go.

" Tell us what happened. " Damian said, moving closer.

And (Y/N) did. Everyone was horrified at the story and they all hugged him.

" You are nothing like him. " Jason started.

" You won't turn into him. " Dick added.

" That version sounds like an asshole. " Tim said.

" I'm going to end him. " Damian chimed in, hugging his brother.

(Y/N) chuckled quietly as he was being squished. Even Alfred joined, giving him support too.

" Now, how about you eat something and then go to sleep? You look like you are going to pass out at any moment. " Dick said and Alfred led him to a table.

[all-alone-he-turns-to-stone]

10 Seconds to Remember

Soldier Boy Masterlist

Summary: When Payback gave him to the Russian like he was only a lab rat to be tortured and tested on, it wasn’t the worst they did. They also killed the love of his life right in front of his eyes. Now that he’s back, Soldier Boy is more than ready for revenge. Everything goes according to plan until he meets you again.

Pairing: Soldier Boy x GN!Reader

Word Count: 4137

Warning: lots of angst, slight graphic violence, feels, memory loss

Rating: everyone

A/n: So it’s been a while, i’ve been so busy!! With Comiccon coming and my panel to write and plan, and work being hell... Anyway, this was requested by an anon, I don’t know if they are still around cause it’s been more than a year, but here you go!

It’d been a couple of weeks since he was freed, but it still felt like he was there.

Only weeks since he was freed from his personal hell, left Russia and joined The Boys.

And they had a deal. He would kill Homelander for them if they helped him find his old team that betrayed him. They put him there in the first place, they gave him to the Russians like some sort of rat they could experience on. But that wasn’t the worst Payback did.

He could still hear them. The screams. They were haunting his nights, they haunted him when he was frozen for so many years in that box, and now that he was awake… It was even worse.

He couldn’t even remember who those screams belonged to. He remembered the pain he felt when he saw it happen. He remembered the red filling his sight when the hands destroyed the only person he ever loved. He remembered the bones breaking like fragile branches.

He remembered now. The screams were his as he was forced to watch you be tortured.

You couldn’t possibly speak when it happened, not with all the blood flowing through your mouth as Black Noir hit you in the guts. You couldn’t even make a sound when Crimson Countess broke your bones one by one. All you could do was look at him and hope he wouldn't get the same faith.

It was with the last remaining forces that you did it. As life slowly got ripped apart from you, your lips parted and formed silent words. 

Close your eyes, count to ten.

That was before he was sent to Russia. His team killed you before they attacked him and placed a mask over his mouth that sent him into a deep sleep. He always thought it was to anger him that they killed you first. Because even he, Soldier Boy, was unable to think correctly under a strong wave of rage. And it worked.

Turned out, seeing the love of his life getting brutally killed in front of him was traumatizing enough to leave a mark.

Weeks had gone by and so far, Soldier Boy had managed to get revenge on the Countess and the TNT Twins. He thought it would relieve some of his pain, to kill those who took away his love and betrayed him. But the more he slaughtered and let himself go to his rage, the more anger was added inside of him. Like a boiling tornado, it kept expanding inside of his chest, burning painfully. And when it exploded…

It destroyed everything around him.

Finding Mindstorm was harder and longer than planned, so of course, Soldier Boy was getting frustrated. It was not going like he wanted. There was no time to lose there, he thought Butcher and the other nerd could help him for fuck sake. Stuck in too much anger, he decided it was enough and left the house he was supposed to stay in to wander into the city.

There were not many clothes he could wear out without attracting attention, so he had to borrow some from the bearded guy. Even then, everything ran small, so he was left with only one choice… It wasn’t too bad, but still, Soldier Boy cringed more than once at the Hawaiian shirt he had to wear as he walked through the quiet roads of the city. He was still complaining about it when he suddenly stopped dead in tracks. 

Stuck in the middle of the road, he stayed motionless. Some people complained he was blocking the path, but he didn’t move. Something here… seemed familiar. A scent, a feeling, the sight of something from the corner of his eyes…

Soldier Boy blinked. Once, twice, then closed his eyes and pressed his fingers on his lids hard enough to see colors appearing. He counted to 10 and breathed slowly. And when he opened them, it was like he was back in time.

People were walking around him, all wearing more formal clothes. Old, beautiful cars were parked on either side of the road. And to his right, a shop. There was a big bay window up front so he could easily see inside. It was filled with even older things, books, mostly. And in the middle of all that history and paper, there was you.

Soldier Boy blinked again, getting back to the present. Impatient people were complaining to him. Ugly cars took all the place on the damaged road. It wasn’t the same anymore, not after all the years he lost. Time had ruined everything, ate the vegetation, destroyed life itself. But when he turned his head to look at where you used to work…

His breath caught in his throat. It had to be a dream. Soldier Boy turned his body completely towards the shop, and without him controlling his limbs, walked inside. The bell chimed when he opened the door, announcing a new customer.

And with the brightest smile, the person behind the counter welcomed him.

“Hello! Welcome. Please, take a look around. I’m here if you have any questions!”

If he wasn’t so steady and strong, Ben would have fallen to his knees. He could feel his legs shaking as he walked closer to the counter where you were.

It was like time had no reach to the shop. It was the same as what he remembered. The outside was ruined by time and human choices, but the inside…

It felt warm. Cozy. Comfortable. The smell of old paper reigned there, it was almost overwhelming, but he knew it didn’t bother you. There were so many books on the shelves, piled on the tables and stacked in boxes that it was impossible to count them all. Behind the glass at the entrance, old newspaper, comic books, furniture and typewriters. Even the cash register was old school.

And then, there was you.

“Y/n…?”

If he had doubts this was real, Soldier Boy had the confirmation when you turned your head to the sound of your name. And when he saw what you were wearing around your neck, the last doubt left his mind.

“Yes? How do you know my name?”

Pain.

Simply.

His visions got blurred, his head spinning.

Hope pressed down heavily in his guts when you said those words. Gravity pushed down on his whole body, he felt crushed under it, like every single one of his bones were breaking, unable to support him anymore.

And inside of him, his heart was shattering in a thousand pieces.

You clearly didn’t remember him… If it was really you.

He had so many questions, so many thoughts running through his head. Doubts. He wanted to scream at you to tell the truth. What was going on? What happened? How was this possible? 

Was it really you?

But nothing.

His mouth opened, but only silence could be heard. It was the first time Soldier Boy felt inevitably weak. He felt desperately human. Ben felt powerless.

“Can I help you?” You worried, walking around the counter to stop right next to him. Green eyes followed your movements to finally dive into your gaze. God, he always loved your eyes. They were so pretty and filled with raw emotions, you could never hide how you were truly feeling. And right now, your brows slightly raised as you kept staring at him told him how worried and anxious you were. But it was when you gently placed your hand on his shoulder that he truly broke.

“You don’t remember me?” He asked and hated how his voice shook with every word he uttered.

Worry turned into confusion in your eyes. “Sorry… I get a lot of customers, even though recently I have quite a really good memory.” You shrugged and smiled. The way your lips curled up, trying to cheer him up, comfort him, it sent another painful memory in Ben’s guts. “I don’t think I saw you before. What’s your name?”

Ben slowly took a step back, even if all he wanted was to get impossibly closer to you. Take you in his arms and squeeze you until you remember him. It had to be you. There was no doubt in his mind. At first, he thought that maybe you were one of Y/n’s grandchildren and just happened to look exactly like the one he lost. But there were too many similarities. How you styled your hair was the same. The way you spoke. The little moles were even at the same spots. And your eyes. They couldn’t lie. You were an open book.

And there was the pendant around your neck.

“Ben,” he said simply. If he thought hearing his name would bring back some sense into you, another sharp pain pierced his chest when you only nodded and politely smiled. “It’s Ben, don’t you remember? Ben, Soldier Boy!” 

It had to happen one way or another. There were simply too many emotions running through him, it was bound to spiral out of control. Pain caused sadness and in sadness, Soldier Boy always turned to anger. That was the reason he avoided anything that could remind him of you. So of course, when no matter what he did, you still couldn’t remember him, he turned to anger. 

This was all a set up. And he was out of patience.

Two steps and he was right in front of you, both his hands on your shoulders. His voice raised when he spoke the next words, shaking you under his strong hold. Asking questions one after the other that would make everyone looking at the scene think he was losing his mind. 

It took only one sound from you to stop him. As quickly as anger exploded inside of him, the fire died. The smallest whimper of pain reached his ears and he was back behind the wheel. 

He was hurting you.

“Fuck, shit,” he muttered, taking a step back, immediately releasing you. Your head was down, your gaze avoiding his. But even if you were not looking at him, he knew, he could feel the pain and the tears running down your cheeks like the water was on his skin. “Hey, hey, Y/n, please, don’t cry, I- I’m sorry,” he tried to get closer again, he couldn’t let you cry, he couldn’t support it, but the moment he tried to approach you, you flinched.

“Please, leave…”

Your voice was barely a whisper. Shaking. Scared. You were so scared. Of him.

His heart broke even more. Never before did he hurt you. He could kill thousands of people in the war. Torture the enemy for information. But see you in pain? See you cry? Be the reason behind your tears?

“It’s okay, Y/n, please. It’s okay. Close your eyes.”

It got out on its own. He didn’t know why, but it felt like the right thing to say. The last thing you told him, not even with words, before you died. 

It was always a comfort for him somehow, when he felt like it was the end… When he felt like he was losing control. He closed his eyes and counted.

“What?”

He thought you wouldn’t listen to him anymore, not after what he did. But to his surprise, you were receptive to his words.

“Close your eyes. Count to 10.”

When Ben did this, it always had the same effect. When he opened his eyes after counting to 10, he remembered. Remembered your words, your face, how to breathe, and immediately felt better. Calmer. Even back in Russia, even after the torture, if he closed his eyes and counted to 10, hell seemed a bit more bearable.

Ben didn’t think you would do it. But you did, closed your eyes and counted to 10 slowly, taking a deep breath to every number you murmured.

When you opened your eyes, it was like an entirely different person was in front of him. You had the same bright beautiful eyes, but now, they were shining with something new. Something different. Something he hoped he would see the moment he saw you in the shop.

“Oh my god…”

You recognized him.

“Ben!”

It didn’t even take a second for you to jump in his arms and hug him like tomorrow would never come. You held him tight, close to you, your feet not even touching the floor, and Ben held you as tight as possible. The embrace was strong, but he controlled his strength. He refused to hurt you again.

“Thank God,” Ben muttered, half laughing half crying. It was the one and only time he would ever allow himself to cry. No tears were shed when he lost you, or all those years he got tortured. But now that he had you again, he could let himself go to his emotions. “I thought I lost you.”

“I thought I lost you too, I-” Even if all he wanted was to keep you close to him, you stepped back to look at him. Both hands on his cheeks, you detailed his features. “You haven’t changed, haven’t aged-”

“You neither,” Ben frowned as he caressed your face as well. “Y/n… You have to tell me, is it really you? This isn’t a dream or a trick, right?” Just thinking about it had his hands clenched and you could feel him tense.

“It’s…” You smiled, tears flowing down your cheeks as well. “Quite the long story actually, I uhm…” Looking around, noticing there was no customer inside, you quickly walked to the door to lock it and turn the sign to closed. Then, you walked back to Ben, took his hand and dragged him to the back of the store to the break room where there was a couch. 

Ben sat down next to you, not letting go of your hand. “I have all the time in the world,” he said. He had to know. Now. “I thought you were dead, Y/n…”

You sighed. “I was.” Ben tensed once again so you placed your other hand on his. “They killed me. Or thought I was dead. But I wasn’t. It was Black Noir’s idea.” Like a movie was playing behind your lids, you closed your eyes and started shaking slightly. “58 minutes later, when everyone was gone, including you, he brought me to Vought to the last floor. Begged Stan Edgar to do something. Though… Black Noir wasn’t talking, something was wrong with his face. It was burnt and bleeding.” Opening your eyes, you looked at him and smiled again. “Looks like you got him good…”

“How…” Ben sniffled and tilted his head, frowning. He knew that part, he lived it. He remembered it. But with that much detail? “How do you remember so clearly…”

He watched you reach out to your necklace and held it tightly. The rest was harder to say, he could feel it. “They gave me Compound V.” You stopped for a couple of seconds to let the words go through his brain and glanced to watch his reaction. Ben was not moving, like he had doubts that was how you made it without aging. He wasn’t surprised and was waiting for you to continue. “It saved me, but I was in a coma for 10 years. When I woke up, they did a bunch of tests on me and concluded that besides not aging, I had no powers so they let me go.” At that, you chuckled sarcastically. “They were wrong.”

Ben nodded, encouraging you to continue. You removed your necklace and placed it in the palm of his hand. 

“This is…” He started as you incited him to open the pendant. A picture of you in black and white on the left side was smiling at him. On the right side, a picture of him with his suit and helmet on.

“I wandered a lot, went almost everywhere. I couldn’t stay too long at one place after all, it's kind of weird to see your neighbor not aging. But in the end, I… Finished my journey back here.” You looked at the place with a sad smile. “It was familiar, and I felt safe, so I stayed. I started to read more and more and ended up noticing something… Weird. I could clearly remember everything that I read, heard or saw. I had the perfect memory. Could learn languages in one sitting. Don’t know how to cook? No problem. Give me 20 minutes. My brain has an insane facility to learn anything… That was the power Compound V gave me.”

“But if you have a good memory, why didn’t you remember me?”

Everything you said so far made sense. The way you remembered everything so clearly. Why you haven't aged. The necklace he gave you back then, necklace you still had. But there were still so many questions left…

Sadness filled up your eyes even more and you sighed. “I have a super memory, but I have a normal brain capacity… I started forgetting more and more memories of my past. I thought it was normal, but I was only in denial. The morning I woke up and forgot you was the day I knew something was wrong.” You offered him a sad smile. “I could never forget my love…” You took back the pendant and closed it. “I went to Vought and they declared it was not their problem. Side effects of a superpower are not unknown after all, and there was nothing to do. The memories I made everyday would end up burying the oldest ones I have. After that day, I decided to wear the necklace all the time and write in a journal what I did during those days. But then, I forgot I had a journal. And I forgot you.”

Ben clenched his jaw and closed his eyes. His hatred for Vought only grew then. They gave you those powers, and when you asked for help, they shrugged it off, not our problem? Anger was building up inside of him, he could feel his insides heating up painfully, rage was overtaking him. But then, a soft touch. Warmth on his skin. Calm voice speaking words.

“Open your eyes,” you asked and he obeyed immediately. Green eyes got lost in yours as he remembered that the last thing you told him was to close his eyes. Like somehow, everything had come full circle. “You’re there now. If you stay, I won’t ever forget you.” A bright smile was now on your lips, it was so warm, all he wanted to do was snuggle against you and live through your smile. “And I sure won’t forget that ugly Hawaiian shirt,” you laughed.

God, he missed your laugh.

Ben wanted to say yes. God, he was about to say yes, stay with you here forever, but you mentioned the shirt he was wearing. Butcher’s. And the whole reason for his presence came back to him.

“I have something to do before,” he said, taking your hands in his to kiss it softly. 

Panic quickly rose on your face. “Wait, no, please, stay?” You seemed pressed, like time was running out.

“It’ll be quick, I promise. I’ll be back before you notice I'm gone.” Ben smiled to reassure you and then got back on his feet. He could do it. Finish what he started, kill the remaining member of his team and then Homelander, and be back here before dinner. He could do it. 

Soldier Boy was so sure of himself when he said his goodbye, kissing you softly on the lips, that he didn’t notice the sheer terror on your face. But it was too late, he was already gone. 

-

Only 3 days had passed.

It was so short.

It happened so fast.

When he came back to the headquarters, they had found Mindstorm’s location. The fight was not easy, the skinny guy tried to save him, but at the end, Soldier Boy had his head. Then, it was Black Noir. The moment he entered the Seven’s tower, he knew something had happened. 

Black Noir was already dead.

Too bad.

Then, there was Homelander. That turned out to be harder than planned, but with Butcher’s new power and Maeve’s help, they did it. They exploded a whole floor in the process, but they got him.

Homelander was no more.

A lot happened in those three days, but for him, it happened so fast it was like he left for 3 hours. 

Once everything was settled, Soldier Boy ran back to your store. He didn’t even bother changing, he bursted through the door in full uniform, ignoring everyone staring at him and asking him for pictures and autographs. 

Scanning through the shop, he searched for you. You were not behind the counter, so he checked in every corner of the book store. Then, he headed to the back, the place where you told him everything that had happened to you. 

“Y/n!” 

As he opened the door, he knew you would be there. Turning your head towards him, you smiled.

“Y/n, I’m back, like I promised. I’m there. I did it.”

Your smile grew bigger on your lips, your eyes shining with so much light, it felt warm inside of him again.

He felt alive.

“Oh my god, is it really true?”

Soldier Boy nodded, a smile as bright as yours on his lips. “Yeah! Like I said.”

“Is it really you, you’re Soldier Boy!”

Wait.

Wait no.

No.

His smile stayed on. But inside, he was screaming.

“No, I mean yes,” he stepped closer to you, watching your face filled with joy. But even if everything told him the real reason why you were so in awe and happy to see him, he refused to believe it. “Y/n… I…Close your eyes.”

Giggling, you put your book on the couch, stood up and did as he said.

“Count to ten.”

Please.

It had to work.

Counting out loud, your smile stayed on.

“Now, open your eyes.”

It worked last time. It worked. You remembered him after all these years. Even if your memory was very bad right now, that your power was eating your past, it'd only been 3 days. 

Your beautiful eyes met his sad gaze again.

He knew without you saying a word.

There was no glint. No shine. Nothing except the excitement of meeting a hero… for the first time. And around your neck, the pendant was missing.

You even forgot to put it on.

“So, do I win something?” 

The earth itself couldn’t support his weight and he had to sit down. Ben sat down on the couch, placing his face against his hands. Trying to hide. Trying to go back in time. Now, he could see it. Could remember it. The panic you had when he told you he was leaving. You were scared, scared to forget him. 

Ben looked down. Defeated. His hands gripped his hair hard and he cursed himself. Why did he leave? Why?! Now it was too late!

As he stared at the floor, something caught his eyes. Reaching down, he cupped the object in his palm and stared.

The pendant.

“Is everything okay?”

Your voice was the same.

You were the same.

The one he lost.

The one that forgot him.

And now, it was too late.

“I saw you on TV, you’re the new leader of the Seven, right? It must be so hard working for Vought.”

Even if you didn’t remember him, you were still so kind. Considerate. You had a hero in front of you and were more concerned about his well being than a fucking picture or an autograph.

“Yeah. Working for Vought is not easy,” he replied, staring absentmindedly at the necklace.

You sat down next to him. “I’m sorry you feel that way. Having a job you don’t like really sucks. I hope that, as the new leader, you’ll be able to find yourself a reason to keep going. And maybe help a lot of people, who knows?”

To that, Soldier Boy could only nod.

“I am the new leader, yeah. And changes need to be done.”

Just like that, the hero got up and left. Something slipped from his gloved hand and fell on the floor. As you picked it up, you tried to catch up to him, but he was already gone. “Damn it,” you muttered and looked at the pendant. Curious, you opened it and looked at the two pictures inside of it. You slowly caressed the picture to the left. “It was probably very important to him… Someone he really loved.”

You kept the pendant and placed it around your neck. Maybe one day, the hero would come back and you could give it back to him.

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[jarofstyles]

Reaper 5

Reaper is a dark story with dark and mature subject matter. 18+ NSFW

the wait is over, we think you’ll be please with this <3

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wc: 9.9k

warnings: surprisingly soft?, smut hehe, knife play?, degradation x praise kink, they're obsessed with each other, begging and edging, possessive reaper

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It would have been Deja Vu had the roles not been reversed.

A few hours later Y/N found herself awake to an empty bed and the sound of ceramic clanking. It could only mean one thing.

Lazily, she made her way out of bed, rubbing the sleep from her eyes to get to the kitchen where she knew she’d find Harry. It was endearing really, the sight of him trying to make some French toast from scratch. Granted, the kitchen looked like a war zone, but the plate of strawberries and cream filling was calling to her.

“Hello, chef.” She teased, dipping her finger into the cream to get a taste. “Do you need a hand? I don’t trust you with this, I can’t lie.” Bunny couldn’t help but laugh when he caught sight of the Spider-Man band-aid on his finger.

“Your faith in me is heartwarming, really.” He deadpanned, looking over to her with a faux glare. There was real stress on his face, though. He hadn’t thought French toast was going to be difficult, but the egg ratio and accidentally dumping half the container of cinnamon in and having to start over, cutting his finger on the strawberries? It was more complicated than he had anticipated.

“No. I want t’make you breakfast. You had a shit night and I don’t want you stressing any more than you’ve got to.” He felt a bit embarrassed to be caught in the chaotic act, but more so, he wanted to do this for her.

That itself was something that he was coming to terms with. He wanted to allow himself closer to her and show more of the softness he had reserved but he also… didn’t want to push it. She was going through some traumatic shit and throwing feelings and all that wouldn’t probably help. So he would do what he could like this without expressing the things he was thinking.

“Okay, in that case, let me direct you a bit, don’t be so stressed the difficult part is over.” She said, noticing he had already dipped the bread and placed it in the hot buttered pan.

“When did you wake up?” She asked sweetly, plopping herself on one of the high chairs by the counter. Watching him cook felt like a treat within itself. He had taken the day off to spend with her and treat her, she was going to soak up every second.

The only problem was the tension that was only growing thicker. Falling asleep in his arms felt different, it was a comfort she realized she hadn’t felt in a while. If ever.

“You cook like this for all your girls, Harry?” She wanted to tease but she had a feeling she knew the answer. It made her feel special knowing she was likely the only one to see him like this.

“I woke up about an hour ago and let you sleep. But I don’t let the girls here.” He said quietly, listening to the sizzle of the toast on the pan. He wasn’t sure why exactly he felt such a need to let her know quickly that he didn’t let women or men he hooked up with here, but he did.

She was special. She was, as cliche as it was to say, very different from the rest of them. She meant something. It wasn’t one night of rough and lust, it was someone he cherished as a human since day one.

That’s why she was allowed in his place. A vulnerability he didn’t share with many at all. Privacy was one of the most important things to him and he trusted Bunny not to do anything to disrupt that.

“I also don’t cook. Obviously.” He shot her a look, flipping the French toast to see it a bit burnt. “I keep doing this. It either takes forever and then I turn it up and it burns.”

“Don’t turn it up silly,” Bunny let out a giggle at his frustration. “Low and slow till it crisps and then set it to high for a bit. Wait till the egg sets first, otherwise, it will be mushy in the middle but burnt on the outside.”

Her little tip was meant to help, he seemed to understand her explanation and adjusted his cooking method accordingly.

“Have I been good then?” She wanted him to confirm her thoughts because she really had been on her best behavior since their last intimate moment in the kitchen. He promised if she was good he would give it to her. She felt like she deserved it after what she’d been through.

She didn’t want to push him though, especially when he was being so sweet.

“Of course.” He said it as if it was obvious, his fingers scratching his stubble as he turned to her with a serious look on his face. “You’ve listened. It isn’t in your nature to but I know that about you. You’re a little rebel but you’ve been listening and keeping yourself safe. S’all I can ask of you.”

Harry was extremely impressed with her behavior considering it was definitely her nature to act out for attention and do the opposite she was told to do.

Her face lit up at his praise, finding herself wanting more of it. Especially in his raspy voice that hasn’t been used much yet, his low-accented words making her hungry for more than just breakfast.

“You’re the only girl I’d let in here. You aren’t one to tell secrets.”

Considering the number of weapons he had and the incriminating phone calls, he had a lot of sensitive shit around that no one else could be trusted with.

“Has it been a while?” Y/N felt like she needed to ask. Sure he didn’t bring girls around, but he definitely had had some hookups recently. Just how recent was what she wanted to know.

It wasn’t so much jealousy as much as it was curiosity. Harry was a man with drive and sex was likely a big part of his life, she didn’t want to get in the way of him and his outlet. If anything she wanted to be the outlet.

It had been a while since she had a proper hook-up, one where she was left satisfied. Her not so secret ex-boyfriend had moved to another state around the same time Sterling went nomad.

“Know I’ve been giving you a hard time with it, think maybe I should fix that…”

Harry paused his movements, turning from the stovetop to look at her with a raised brow. She didn’t correct herself. If anything, she met his eyes with ease.

So it had been on purpose. The touching and skirts and the things she probably saw his eyes lingering on. He should have known, but he also was trying to just simply pass it off as a wishful thought. It was easier to deny his wants that way.

“And what do you mean by that?” He asked, crossing his arms spatula in hand.

Her eyes went to his arms and felt herself heat. When he had that stance, that defiant brow, it did something to her. He was in charge, asking questions, and quite frankly? She fucking loved it.

“You didn’t answer my question.” She countered, looking back at him with her brow raised. Allowing herself to crack a small cheeky smile, she noticed his shoulders soften slightly.

Bunny didn’t want to be too upfront with her intentions, but she figured the more they talked about it the quicker they could come to an agreement. If she was going to stay here any longer she would need some type of sexual release.

He had told her she couldn’t touch herself and frankly that was the hardest part. Y/N was perverted, she liked the things that were a bit filthy and taboo, maybe that’s why she attracted the freak in the first place? Regardless, she wanted to make sure he knew she wanted him to make a move.

“I mean….” He looked her over, trying to gauge just how serious she was. It seemed that she was, his shirt hanging from her shoulder, her body leaned against the counter as she watched his every move.

“Been since before you’ve got here. Probably 2 months since then so… a bit.” He could be a downright whore, sure, but lately, it had been too busy and too unappealing. The one night stands were alright but he found himself using the gym to get frustrations out more than anything.

“Why are you asking?” He turned momentarily to flip the next piece on and also take a breath. She was probably one of the only ones who was able to unnerve him. “Haven’t been fucking around while you’re here if that’s what you’re worried about. M’an asshole, but not that big of one.”

“No, I’m not worried about that. I would know if you’re doing that, you’re good at hiding a lot of things but that’s not one of them.” She said with a soft smile, watching the way his back tensed with his movements.

It would be easy to tell if he was getting satisfied elsewhere, for starters he wouldn’t be looking at her like he wanted to eat her and he wouldn’t be so wound up. At least that’s what she gathered from their encounter.

“I’m asking because you promised if I was good you’d help me.” Bunny wished she would have waited for him to turn around before saying it, but it was easier to get it out when his back was to her. “Unless you changed your mind of course…”

Harry did promise that.

He’d simply assumed that perhaps with all of the stuff going on… continuing the cat and mouse game they’d done for a bit wasn’t the most appropriate thing. But he also wasn’t one to try and dampen someone’s fun.

“That something you want?” He questioned, serious tone catching her off guard. She had expected him to just go along and tease her back but… he seemed caught up.

“M’not saying no. I know I’d like to, and I’m sure as fuck not someone to leave a lady unsatisfied but you’re going through some heavy shit, love.” He was coming from a place of concern. “Is this something that will make it better or worse? M’not exactly gentle.”

She shifted in her seat, feeling a bit exposed now that he was properly asking her if she wanted it. It was easier to play it off when teasing, but now she was confronted she sensed herself getting shy.

“I just want to take my mind off of all of it…” She let out a sigh, looking down at her hands. Sex had always been an outlet she was fond of, though it seemed her partners never realized just how important it was. A good connection and some touch could do wonders for her.

“Said I couldn’t touch on my own so I haven’t, it’s just proving to be difficult so I wanted to ask if you changed your mind.” It had been over a week even though he told her one would be enough. His hesitation made her think he was rethinking it all. She wanted to give him a way out.

“I won’t be offended… I just don’t normally go this long without it, especially when I’m going through something— I could really use it is all.”

Harry didn’t want to make her feel held back. Nor did he want to miss out. He could see her retreating a bit into herself and he didn’t like it at all, turning off the stove as he crossed the kitchen and looked down at her from across the counter, quietly making up his mind.

She wanted it, sure, but he didn’t want her to regret it. On the other hand… he wanted her, too. She was saying she needed it and he wasn’t a man who could say no to her in these types of things. What Bunny wants, Bunny gets. She just didn’t know it yet.

“What if I let you touch yourself?” He murmured, the tension in the room building. “You’d have to do it in front of me. And then… maybe I’ll do something for you. If you can manage to be good for me while you do so.”

Her eyes were pinned to his the moment he finished his sentence, her attention fully on him. Sure, it wasn’t exactly what she wanted but it sounded even more exciting than what she had in mind.

“I can do that.” She agreed, feeling the excitement bubble up in her stomach. How soon would this be? Could even do it after breakfast… during? No, she was getting ahead of herself. Whenever he let her.

All she had to do was listen for a little bit longer. It couldn’t hurt.

Harry seemed comfortable with this idea, maybe it would be convincing for him to see just how good she could feel. How he made her feel.

Harry was a fan of edging, some might say. A big one. He nodded, the excitement and anticipation filling up his body as he turned to plate their food.

The tension was palpable in the room now. She could feel it, he could feel it, and Harry wasn’t shy about letting his gaze stick on her as he ate. She was a bit shyer, looking down with heated cheeks as she tried to eat the food.

It wasn’t bad- a bit overdone, maybe- but she was hungry for something much different. His eyes on her had her skin feeling prickles of excitement, her toes curling into her socks as she remembered his voice when he had let her go down on him.

The idea of his gravely, dark voice commanding her to pleasure herself was something she had been very hopeful for, and now it was going to come true. He had essentially edged her for days and days now, and she was so wet just at the thought that her panties were becoming a bit uncomfortable.

“Finish that.” He snapped her out of her lusty trance, the smirk on his face letting her know that he knew exactly where her mind was at.

She quickly finished the last few bites of her French toast, setting her fork and knife on the plate before lifting her arms over her head for a long stretch.

Her shirt was lifting a bit, exposing her lace underwear and a bit of her tummy. She thought he would appreciate the preview of what he’d be seeing in a bit. The thought had her feeling even slicker, his gaze was so intense she could feel it piercing through her.

“It was delicious, thank you so much.” She cooed, hopping off of the stool to place both of their plates in the sink. But not before giving Harry a kiss on the cheek.

Harry knew she was testing the waters, swaying her hips a little bit as she walked. It wasn’t her normal movement and he was well aware of how she was trying to entice him.

Little did she fucking know, he was already enticed. Wanting. There was no need. He would give her what she wanted, with time.

“Now we can do what you want.” He stood up and crackled his knuckles, looking at her wide eyed stance. His body was thrumming with need and he wanted to see her, for real. See her melt for him. Even without his touch, at first.

His finger lightly tipped her chin up, pressing a chaste kiss to her still slightly sticky lips before pulling back. “Go into the bedroom and set up how you usually would. Don’t touch without me there.”

Bunny tugged her bottom lip between her teeth as if to savor the feeling of his plush lips against her own. She was so excited, resisting the urge to actually jump up at the thought. It’s been a while since she could properly connect to her femininity.

She opened the door and quickly went to the bathroom to freshen up before he arrived. Nothing much, just a quick look over and pep talk before making her way to the bed.

She’d kept the lights low, natural daylight defused by the curtain harry had hanging. Table lamps on adding a warm glow to the room overall. She also kept the tshirt on, thinking that it would come in handy in the process.

The smell of him on it was enough to keep her senses stimulated, to truly show him how much she needed him.

Harry had stalled, cleaning up the dishes and trying to gather his wits as he knew she was going to be in bed waiting for him. This time, however, it was a very different type of wait.

He cleared his throat, walking down to the room to see her sprawled out in the middle of the bed, hair haloed around the pillows, and the shirt was drawn up slightly to expose the panties she wore.

He took a deep breath, letting his eyes openly scan her in and admire every single detail that he could. The beautiful girl, she was in here for him. Him alone. He was going to make her love every moment, but he was going to draw it out of her.

“Didn’t touch, did you?” He smiled when she shook her head, feet approaching the end of the bed. “Good fuckin’ girl. That’s what you are, hm?” Leaning down in a flash, he took both ankles and yanked her closer to him.

Bunny yelped in surprise but it melted into a giggle. That was one way to get her heart pumping. He looked incredible, standing there with his powerful body. Hands that had the power to take lives caressed her skin lightly before letting them fall back to the bed.

She wanted to kiss him, she wanted to kiss him badly. It was all she had been thinking about for hours, days even. It had been the only thing keeping her mind off of everything else. His touch? She didn’t want him to stop.

Bunny wanted to be a good girl, figured the best way to approach was to ask nicely. No bratty energy today.

“Can I please have a kiss?” She asked so innocently, it was sincere. She just wanted to be close to him again. Y/N knew he was about to tease her for all she was worth, but a little kiss couldn’t hurt. As much as he was willing to give.

“Would really like one before we start, if that’s okay…”

He softened slightly, visibly smiling as he looked down at her. “Sweet little baby wants a kiss?” He murmured, looking down at her soft gaze, hope in her eyes that he couldn’t crush. 

“Only because you asked so nicely.” He lent a knee on the bed, slowly hovering over her with his hand resting above her head. Her eager mouth met his, hand curling into the hair at the nape of his neck to try and coax a little longer of a kiss from him. He hummed against her mouth, swiping his tongue against hers for a mere moment before pulling back. 

She whined in her throat at the loss of him as he stood back up, but didn’t attempt to follow him. She wanted to be good for him, to get his dirty praises and promises of more. If she did what he asked, maybe he would finish her off. The idea alone almost made her salivate. 

“There we go.” He curled his hand over her knee, urging her legs open. “You were saying… you’ve been feeling needy lately? That’s how I heard it, anyways.” He feigned a casual tone. “Been driving you crazy you couldn’t just slip your fingers into your panties and touch yourself the way you’ve been wanting. But you were good, and I think you can now.” His tone made her shiver, feeling a pleasurable heat from his eyes. 

“Why don’t you show me?”

She couldn’t help but feel a little nervous in that moment. Sure, she wanted this and was looking forward to it, it was still Harry and he made her feel like no one else could. She couldn’t be more excited to bring her hand down over her panties, slowly starting to tease herself to get prepared.

“Is this how you’d do it?” Y/N asked after a beat, letting him take in her actions before breaking the silence. “Always thought you’d enjoy teasing me…” She could feel the heat spreading through her panties, pressing down just over her clit to feel a jolt of pleasure.

Taking her other hand, she moved it up her stomach, slowly exposing the skin beneath the tshirt. She wasn’t wearing a bra, but she thought she’d tease him as well by keeping it bunched up exposing just a little glimpse of what she was positive he wanted to see.

His eyes were glued to her, watching her hands every move.

For a bit now, he had been trying his absolute best to keep his eyes to himself and while he had indulged in cuddles and kisses, he hadn’t let himself get too sexual about her since she had pushed him over the edge s bit ago- and now he was finally releasing that part of him. A part that wanted to ruin her.

“Mm. I would.” He whispered. “I do love a tease… edging.” Her fingers pressed over her clit again, making her exhale shakily. The shirt was ridden up and exposing her bottom half now, the lace hiding her just enough to keep his curiosity.

“They’re soaked.” The light-colored lace was a darker shade from how she had soaked through them, a stroke to the ego and to his cock. “You’ve really been worked up, sweet girl? That much?” He tilted his head, clicking his tongue. “Shame. But you were good and didn’t cheat. I’m proud of you. I know it’s probably hard for a little slut like you to keep your hands off.”

Testing the limits. Remembering what she liked last time, he knew that would be good with her.

It was so backhanded like he was mocking her in the most lustful voice he could. She loved it.

She was eating it up, the way she mewled at his praise. All Y/N could do was nod, letting her hand squeeze at her breast to release some more tension. It had been a while since she’s had the time to herself just to touch herself and love on her own body.

It was something she hadn’t realized she missed until it was gone. Her body was so responsive to every touch, her breath becoming shaky at the painfully slow pace she had set for herself.

“I wanted to… so bad, I was waiting for you to do something.” Bunny slipped one of her fingers underneath, gasping at how soaked she really was. It surprised her, he wasn’t kidding. “You make me so wet… all the time.”

Harry nodded, pinching his bottom lip between his fingers as he watched intently at the hand underneath her panties. That was cruel, but he had been cruel in making her wait. “I wanted to be a gentleman for once. To take your situation into account but… I don’t think you quite like gentlemen, do you Bunny?” He shook his head at the thought.

“No, you were waiting for me to get you on your knees on this bed and take you from behind. Dropped to your knees in my kitchen so easily, begged for my cock in your mouth... I can’t say I’m surprised, honestly.” He reached into the pocket of his sweats,  pulling out a pocket knife he had armed himself with since waking up. Paranoid? Maybe. But now it had a use.

“Kept you waiting and now you can’t take it anymore. Had to ask me. Maybe it’s a little cruel, but I loved it. Loved seeing you a little embarrassed but so wet that you can’t take it anymore. You did good, didn’t touch just like I told you.” He twirled the knife in his fingers, the dark smile making her shiver as she pressed her fingers against herself a bit harder.

“Now I think it’s time for you to show me exactly what you wanted to do this whole time.” He lent down, grabbing the waistband of the panties and sliced through it. “Hiding that cunt from me isn’t going to get us anywhere. I want to see it.”

It was so hot.

Everything about it screamed dangerous and possession, but she didn’t care. The girl was on cloud 9, maybe even higher when she saw the look in his eyes. He’d been waiting to see her too, it made her cunt clench. Looking to be filled.

Her fingers glided through her folds with ease, circling her clit to get it nice and wet. She was sensitive, figuring out the speed at which she wanted to go. Nice and slow to let him take in every part or move a bit quicker and show him how ready she was. Needy.

“Wanna be good for you.” She admitted, “you make it fun.” And she wasn’t lying either. Y/N loved how he built tension, how every move was perfectly calculated to make her want to scream.

“I think you like being a little mean, hmm?”

“I’m not a nice man, pretty girl.” He retorted, but his pleased eyes were taking in her movements.

Finally, bare for him to see, he observed her fully as he watched her wet digits play with herself. She was beautiful in every single place, it seemed, and he was pleased with how tempting she was between her legs. A huge temptation, really, with his hands itching to touch and his mouth wanting to taste.

He would, too. But he wanted to wait.

“I can be nice to you, sure. You’re my sweet little Bunny. But you like when I’m mean. Like when I call you names. Bet you like me mean to you in here too.” He licked his bottom lip, rubbing at his chin. “Spank your ass sore. Make you wait to cum. Or even more, make you cum over and over until you’re over sensitive and begging me to stop. Treat you like my beautiful little fuck doll. Never had one of those before. Always just have a one and done. Maybe it’d be nice to properly own a pussy this time around.”

Obviously, he liked her for more than that, but he could see her change in demeanor- how she had made a mess on her fingers and rubbed a bit harder at his words. “Does my pretty baby like that idea? Want t’be my little fuckdoll?” His fingers brushed her knee again, teasing her with his touch.

“Yes please!” It was all she could have wanted really. Sure it’s not everyone's idea of romance, but she loved the idea of being his to use as he pleased. Of course that only worked because she fully trusted him with her life. He was probably the one person she trusted the most at the moment.

“I’ll be so good, I promise!” She had momentum going now, her fingers making tight circles around her clit. The pressure was just right and his words were making it so easy to just let go.

Harry could feel his hands twitch, her eagerness making it that much harder to keep himself under control. He was enjoying his view far too much, watching her unravel and crave him.

“I’m sure you will be darling, but your cunt needs some proper stretching before you take me. Can you show me how much you can take?” Would she be ready for his fingers?

She nodded, feeling herself clench around nothing at the idea of taking his cock. Of course, she had been thinking about it for ages but to see him in front of her, taunting him about it? She was feeling it in her bones.

She slowly slid a finger inside of her, the noise of pleasured relief exhaled from her mouth. She was tight and hot and so wet she couldn’t remember a time she had been this slippery.

Harry could see it from where he stood, her finger glistening as she pulled it back out and slid it back in. His cock was solid, throbbing in his pants as he waited and watched.

Was he torturing himself by not just going for it? Maybe. But the gratification he felt now was unmatched. “There we go. Got one in there. Why don’t you give yourself another, baby?” He murmured, rubbing himself through his pants. “My cock’s much bigger than your little fingers. You’re gonna need to take a few.”

With a gasp she managed to fit another finger in, giving herself a few more slow pumps to make sure she wasn’t going to hurt herself. The stretch felt amazing, but it would feel even better if it was his cock.

Her eyes had closed being so caught up in the moment that she moaned at the sight of him palming himself. Images of his velvety hard cock came to her mind, that night that had been replaying on a loop in her mind.

“Harry…” She let out a whine, not saying anything else because she didn’t dare to complain. It’s just that she wanted more. More touching, more kissing, more of him. It felt so good, fucking herself with her fingers thinking about the man standing above her.

“I really want to cum. Really, really.” She felt like she was going to burst, but what she was doing wasn’t enough. It felt like she was teasing herself, her body wasn’t satisfied unless it was him.

“Aw, you do?” He smiled. “Y’want to cum all over those pretty little fingers? Bet it feels so good, doesn’t it?” He taunted, leaning over her slightly as she fucked herself. The sound was audible, her fingers making a squelching sound as they moved in and out of her.

“Stop.” He commanded. Y/N’s face was stricken, a whine leaving her lips but she did as he asked, slowing her fingers down. The loss of orgasm was visible on her face and she almost looked like she wanted to cry- but he would make it worth her while.

“There we go. Listening to me so well. Those orgasms are mine.” He smiled darkly, kneeling one leg on the bed and spreading her legs back after she attempted to close them around her hand. A possess trill went through his spine. This was his.

“I’ve been debating here if I should lick you until you’re shaking, or if I should finally give you my cock. I’m torn.” He feigned a confused look on his face. “Pretty baby like you might not be able to take my cock. Could only take two of your fingers…” He shook his head, looking at where they were still buried. “But I have a feeling that you’re going to want my cum. You’re on something, hm?” He pulled her hand from her, exposing her cunt to the open air. “As much as M’sure breeding you would be fun… don’t think that’s something either of us need at the moment.”

“Yes!” She breathed, silently thanking herself for sticking to her routine just so she could have moments like this. Was it risky still? Yeah, but worst came to worst they’d figure it out. They were up against much worse already.

Y/N was so eager she felt a bit embarrassed, but could you blame her? She’s had a crush on him for years and finally, she was getting a taste of what she had wanted.

If she had to choose between his cock and his mouth, it was a difficult choice. Both were incredibly good in their own ways, but she just wanted him to pick. She was so desperate for him, she was positive it wouldn’t even last that long.

“I wanna feel you, please take this off.” She pleaded, tugging at the tshirt slouching on his shoulder.

Harry wasn’t in the position to say no to a request like that. Not when she had just agreed to let him inside of her if he wanted. His mouth was begging for it, wanting to taste her sweetness, but he knew he had been holding back a long damn time from letting himself have her.

She deserved a proper reward, and he wasn’t going to last long enough to get his mouth on her and hear her sweet little moans and whimpers.

Her hands immediately found his bare skin, warming his body up with her touch. She was incredibly needy and that was partially his fault, but it didn’t mean he didn’t love the hell out of her desperation.

“You like what you feel, pretty? What you’ve been wanting to touch?”

Overwhelmed by the feeling she nodded, a simple hum of mhm leaving her lips. He was incredibly toned, tattoos contrasting against his skin, some scars as well.

She couldn’t keep her hands off, running them over his sides and his front before finally settling on his back. Her nails gently dug into the skin, trying not to pull him towards her too much. She wanted to seem patient even though she was far from it.

“You look so good…” He really did. His hair fell in front of his face, muscles tensed to show off their shape. It was so effortless for him, she swore he was sculpted by the gods.

“I’m so lucky.”

The genuine awe on her face made him soften in his face a little bit. The sweetness she had never faded, regardless of the filthy and brattiness. It made him internally purr.

Harry couldn’t help himself from leaning down and pressing a searing kiss to her lips, a token of his appreciation for her sweet words. He was luckier than she was, but he didn’t want to ruin the moment.

She was thinking she was lucky to be able to touch him but didn’t have a damn clue about how many words and thoughts filtered through his head every time he looked at her. “Such a good Fuckin’ girl. Being so sweet for me. Got any other pretty words for me?”

“So many…” A hand reached from behind him to tuck his hair behind his ear, settling on his cheek with fingers just against his jaw.

“Can’t give them all away at once, can I?” She smiled at him cheekily, stealing a quick kiss from his lips. Y/N stared at him expectantly, waiting for him to react.

“You’re very handsome, I really want you.” She breathed, eyes staring into his in a state of bliss. They hadn’t done much but her heart was filled with content. Just being with him in this moment, she wasn’t thinking about anything but him.

Harry didn’t let any of his other partners touch him this type of way, so it caught him off guard with how much he enjoyed it. The girl had a chokehold on him without even trying, a leg up in a way that he hasn’t been anticipating.

“Yeah? Y’think so?” He hummed, watching her eager nod. “Thank you, sweet thing. Don’t know how you can be so sweet yet so filthy at the same time.”

He removed himself from hovering over her, running his hands over her bare stomach and letting his fingertips drag over the skin. “Pretty girl. Such smooth skin. I’d say it’s a shame that I’m going to cover it in marks and mess it all up, but I don’t feel bad at all.” He didn’t feel a sliver of regret. Removing his hands, he popped his button open on his own pants.

“Keep playing with yourself for me. Rub that little clit but don’t let yourself cum. Can a dumb little puppy like you do that?” He crooned, his other hand stroking her bent knee. “Or is it too hard?”

Y/N let her fingers continue to rub over her clit at a slow pace, trying her best to keep her ever growing pleasure at bay. She let her knee relax into his hold, humming out in approval. The roughness of his skin made his touch even more electric, aching to feel his fingertips across the plain of her thigh.

“Use your words, pretty girl.” Harry squeezed her skin just lightly, “let me hear it.”

The breathiness of her tone, the desire in her cadences, Harry wanted to hear all of it. He wasn’t sure when he was going to be able to experience her like this again, so he wanted to take his time.

“Yes I can, sir.” She didn’t hesitate this time, “I can do it.” She didn’t dare beg for it but her whimpers said everything she couldn’t voice out loud. He was taking his good old time getting undressed, enjoying the view of her squirming beneath him.

The heat that was between her legs was begging to be released. The way he looked at her with the obvious hunger behind his eyes, that it was all because of her sent a chill up her spine.

If anyone else talked to her in that condescending tone, she would bristle. But with Harry? It lit her up. Soaked her. Her cunt was weeping, begging for his attention. Being degraded by him did something to her that she hadn’t realized would get her this worked up.

He could see her eyes on his hands as he stood off the bed, letting his jeans fall down to the floor. His palm covered his cock, squeezing to relieve himself a little. “You look so beautiful laid out like that. Was a bit mean to you, making you lay every night without relieving yourself… but I think that you’ll be thanking me later. I’m going to make sure you forget I even made you wait.”

“What are you going to do to me, sir?” She asked, her lashes fluttering against her cheeks. It was so easy to seduce him, so effortless, he brought the temptress right out of her.

Her fingers sped up their movements over her clit, daring to dip a finger inside just like she would. Her focus was on his eyes, watching as his darted around her body taking her in. Bunny had never felt so exposed, but she could see his desire. His eyes were drunk on her.

“Want to know what you like…” So she could tease him with it later of course. Testing his self-control always seemed to get him, he loved testing his limits. “Let me into your mind a little.”

“What are you going to do to me, sir?” She asked, her lashes fluttering against her cheeks. It was so easy to seduce him, so effortless, he brought the temptress right out of her.

Her fingers sped up their movements over her clit, daring to dip a finger inside just like she would. Her focus was on his eyes, watching as his darted around her body taking her in. Bunny had never felt so exposed, but she could see his desire. His eyes were drunk on her.

“Want to know what you like…” So she could tease him with it later of course. Testing his self-control always seemed to get him, he loved testing his limits. “Let me into your mind a little.”

“What are you going to do to me, sir?” She asked, her lashes fluttering against her cheeks. It was so easy to seduce him, so effortless, he brought the temptress right out of her.

Her fingers sped up their movements over her clit, daring to dip a finger inside just like she would. Her focus was on his eyes, watching as his darted around her body taking her in. Bunny had never felt so exposed, but she could see his desire. His eyes were drunk on her.

“Want to know what you like…” So she could tease him with it later of course. Testing his self control always seemed to get him, he loved testing his limits. “Let me into your mind a little.”

The little smirk on his face would be annoying from anyone else, but from Harry? His cockiness, the smug look had her dripping. How did he manage to do that? Her fingers curled inside of her, a little furrow forming between her brows as she bucked her hips slightly into her hand. “Please?”

Harry loved hearing her beg. That much was evident as he stepped between her legs, stroking himself slowly. The pace of his hand was almost a tease, letting his tip brush her a little bit. Her body shuddered, her other hand clenching the blankets hard as she lifted her hips to try and chase the feeling.

“You really are gagging for it.” He murmured, free fingers wrapping around her wrist and pulling her hand from her cunt. Leaning down, he led the wet digits to his lip. They wrapped around them, a pleased hum leaving his lips in a vibration against her. His tongue flicked between the fingers, licking up every single bit of wetness he could. The sweetness of her cunt was unmatched.

“Tell me you want my cock, and I’ll give it to you. Say… you want me to fuck you.”

A whimper fell from her lips, body squirming beneath him at the delay. She wanted him to touch her, licking her fingers wasn’t enough. Bunny could still feel the weight of his tip on her throbbing clit, catching his eyes so she knew how much she meant it when she asked.

“Please sir, I want your cock so bad, please fuck me! Please!” It was as if she was begging him to show her some mercy. She just wanted him all over. The second he gave in, she knew she’d feel relief. Sex for Bunny had always brought this side out of her, willing to do anything to get to her high. It wasn’t that hard to submit when Harry was the one demanding obedience.

“Please…” She whimpered again, her legs twitching to squeeze shut but were stopped by his thighs. “Been waiting so long, just wanna feel you… don’t wanna think.”

That had seemed to be what broke him. He had finally gotten what he wanted, finally was able to give her what she needed. Spreading her back on the bed, he knelt back on the soft mattress and lifted her knees to spread her out properly. Her wet fingers were dropped but quickly caught his wrist, desperate for contact with him.

A wolfish grin lit up his face making him look a little bit evil, and for some reason, it turned her on more than it should. Harry was a dangerous man, he was ruthless and he killed people- hell, his nickname was Reaper for fucks sake. And yet, here he was. He was going to belong to her, come hell and back.

The dragging of his cock over her slit made her whine, impatient as ever to get him in but her impatience was shortly cut when he began to press into her.

“It’s okay my Bunny,” Harry cooed, easing himself inside her. It was clear from the start it’d be a tight fit, but he was surprised at how easily he’d slipped in. “Like a glove.” He purred, voicing his thoughts out loud.

Bunny’s moans were a mix of pleasure and pain, her turning eyes darker than ever. She’d never felt someone so deep. The slight burn from the stretch was immediate, but the feeling of being full of him was enough to have her back arching.

Harry stilled once he had her fully wrapped around his length. He could feel her throbbing, her slick against his balls, he swore he could stay inside of her forever. With a low growl, the grip on her wrists tightened, head falling to mouth over her breast.

“Mine…” He mumbled against her skin, barely audible. “Fuck-“ Harry felt feral with her. Everything about it called to his core, all he could do was think about pleasing her. His mouth left a sheen over her skin, trails of his spit marking all the parts he owned.

“Harry, please!” Bunny felt like she would lose it, the tension had bubbled over. She couldn’t wait any longer, he needed to move.

His dark eyes rose up and looked at her with a green she hadn’t seen before. A part of him she had never been exposed to. And to be honest- a part of him he hadn’t experienced.

Pure need and possession, feeling like he was where he belonged. Snug inside of her, marking her with his mouth, keeping her where he wanted her. She was everything he had wanted and more.

“Love that beg.” He smirked against her skin, kissing up her sternum and to her neck as he slowly pulled out a few inches before sliding back in.

As much as he wanted to simply pound into her, the savoring of her body felt even more fulfilling. Her shuddery breaths, flexing hands as he felt her squirm underneath him, he was feeling the full effect.

He repeated the action, pushing as deep in as he could until his balls rested snug against her ass, his mouth hovering over hers. “This is where you belong. Wrapped around me, under me, with my cock as deep as it can get.”

It was true, she thought. It had never felt like this before. Sure she’s had great sex, but sex never felt so… raw. She was no longer afraid of seeming too eager, he had fully unraveled her.

“Ah! More!” She breathed, “More, please! More.” It was like he couldn’t get close enough. Her legs found their way around his waist, using her heel to push him further into her. “My hands— let me touch you.”

It was a simple request that Harry couldn’t deny. He had forgotten he was holding her wrists together, far too focused on the feeling of her velvety cunt. His lips nipped a bit of her skin as his hand pulled away, placing both of his hands beside her head.

“So greedy, why don’t you let me play?” Harry was only teasing, he himself was barely holding it together and that was new. He was always able to control himself, but once again it seemed he couldn’t when it came to her. His hips immediately pulled back, setting a pace he felt would satisfy her.

Steady. Deep. Constant.

She was a wreck. Truly, utterly lost in how good it was feeling, his thrusts timed just right to give it to her again just when she was about to ask him for more.

“F-fuck.” She whimpered, trailing her nails down his back. It was evidently something he liked, a groan leaving his throat as she marked him, the skin turning red underneath her nails. “S’good, so good. You’re so big.” She rambled, clutching herself to him.

“Yeah? That’s what I like to hear. Knew you’d take me perfectly. Had my doubts at first… tiny little cunt but… as soon as I got in I knew. It was made f’me.”

It felt so good being stretched, being under him. His eyes ate her up, watching every movement of her face as he adjusted just a bit to try and find the right place. The right spot that would have her shaking.

“How long have y’wanted this, pretty girl? Hm? How long have you been dreaming about my cock?”

She couldn’t lie in this state. He knew that.

Bunny had only been waiting for the right moment, it seemed that moment is now.

“Since I was 17.” She moaned at the tension, he could feel himself pause for a second as proceeded with the words she was saying. “4 years, you were— ah!” Harry couldn’t help himself. He sped up, the carnal need inside him had won.

“I wanted you to sneak into my room…” It reminded her of the many times she walked past him in tiny shorts to catch his attention. Getting a glass of water before bed, a signature move. “So you could fuck me just like this.”

The fantasies with him were never-ending, she swore she’d imagined him in every state possible. Nothing compared to this.

No one could really blame her. The teenage crush grew into a full blown infatuation with the man as she got older. As cliche as it sounded, his gruffness to everyone but her, how gentle he usually was, how he was genuinely kind to her while he openly told other people to fuck off? It made her feel special. Appreciated.

Of course, she had a thing for him. Just a bit older, tattoos, a protective streak a mile long just for her. She wanted to thank him- just like this.

“Fuck. Don’t say that.” He said hoarsely, gripping the sheets hard as he drove in harder, looking down at her glossy eyes. “Don’t fucking… say that.”

Her 19th birthday when she had crawled in his lap, claiming to want warmth. All the hugs she didn’t want to let go of. How irritated she was with girls who tried to flirt with him. It made sense- but it also made him crazy.

“You’re fucking filthy. You’ve always been… a little slut.” He moved to grip her throat. “You even hear yourself? You wanted me to fuck you? Take your cherry right next to your brother's room? You filthy little whore.” But he loved it. God, it only made it seem even more right.

The both of them fucked in the head when it came to kink, wanting shit they shouldn’t. He wouldn’t have touched her until he was able to, but knowing she was in her room… “sitting in that bed with those pink walls, playing with this cunt? S’that what you did? Waiting for me to come in and be the first one to take it?”

He wished he had been the one to take it. A possessive snarl left his chest. “Doesn’t matter. This cunt is still mine.”

She couldn’t help but smile, happy to be laying there with his hand around her throat. He wasn’t applying pressure, just holding her there so she could look at him.

“Yours. It’s yours.” She breathed, “Wanted it so bad, you weren’t even trying to hide yourself from me.” Bunny prayed for the summer days when he and Sterling would work on their bikes in the garage, shirtless of course. How he’d take his time drinking his water, letting it drip down his chest a bit. The way he’d smile at her when he licked his lips clean.

He seemed to quicken his pace at her words, her body moving with the power of his thrusts. How could he have gone this long without giving in? Everything he had been wanting was always right within his reach.

“Please don’t stop! Please!” He had found the spot he’d been searching for, watching her eyes roll back in pure bliss as her begging continued. “Feels so good, please never stop! Fuck!”

“Never going to stop. You’re in so much trouble.”

He was fucked. This has started just to keep her safe, the faux dating, all of it. And it was unraveling at the seams. He wasn’t a fool- he knew that this was going to change it. There was no way in the world that he would be able to go without this again.

It felt so perfect that it would be a crime to deny either of them the pleasure their sex brought. It wasn’t just sex. That was something he would dissect later though.

He felt her tremble underneath him, her breathing heavy as she clawed at the wrist holding her throat. She wanted his stability, her body jolting as shocks of pleasure went up her spine.

“Tell me you won’t take anyone else. Tell me you only want my cock.” He growled. “I’m the only one who can give it to you this good.”

“You. Only you.” She meant it as well. Bunny couldn’t remember a time when he wasn’t in the picture. She’d grown so much in the time since she met him, so much had changed, but he hadn’t. He kept her safe.

Her senses were heightened, her body feeling sensitive to every touch of their skin. It was searing hot, the way he was kissing her skin only added to her arousal. She was so close she could feel the threads of tension starting to snap deep in her stomach.

“Wanna cum for you, all over you, want you to feel how good you make me feel…” Her voice was hoarse from all the moaning and whining, panting with the pace he had set. There was no stopping him now that he had her, it felt how it was supposed to.

“Yes pretty, cum all over my cock.” Harry cooed, pressing kisses over her face. “Show me how good you are, let me see how beautiful you are when you’re creaming my cock.”

It was like her body was tied to him. His request was granted, unable to hold back as soon as she had permission.

“H-Harry-“ she couldn’t talk, his name falling into a moan as she let go around him. Cunt fluttering and clenching over his prick, legs tightening around his waist as he fucked into her and stimulated her spot just right, making her cum all around him.

“Fucks sake- fuck, you’re mine.” He squeezed the sides of her throat as he kissed her hard, letting himself unload into him. Spots of pleasure danced behind his eyes as he let go, the flood of hot cum shooting into her eagerly.

It had been a long time coming but he didn’t regret the wait. It was fucking perfect.

It was too hard to describe the feeling in her body. Blissful relaxation, the comfort of his body on top of hers, the warmth that came from him as he placed delicate kisses over her skin.

His hips were still moving, though his pace was slow. It was as if he was milking every moment.

“So fucking perfect, you know that?” He breathed against her, “always been mine.” Harry wouldn’t let it go. It still didn’t feel entirely real, but as his hips kept with their movements and he heard small whimpers escape her lips he knew he should have acted sooner.

“Does it feel nice, baby? Want me to keep going?” Harry’s voice was soft, “Wanna give me another one?”  The squeeze she gave him in return proved him correct. Without another word, he rested his forehead against her shoulder, continuing his sharp and shallow thrusts from within her. He smiled at the sound of her heart picking up again, her breathing returning to its shaky state.

“So close, aren’t you? Horny little thing.” He murmured, pressing another kiss to her collarbone. “Come on let go… wanna lick you clean.”

It was unreal to her. Being showered in affection, feeling him as close as he could possibly get. He had cum inside of her, the mess he was making with these thrusts trying to push as much in as it still leaked out with every pull- it had her eyes watering.

It was almost too much. The pleasure made her whimper, a weak noise leaving her mouth each time he thrust inside of her, but she was a slut for a bit of overstimulation.

Harry was eating up each noise, each movement of her cunt. She took everything he gave him and it was obvious to him now that he had met his match. Each move he made, she followed like a mirror.

“Yours, yours, yours… fuck, Harry.” She ran her hands down his back, feeling the swells of his shoulders and memorizing their hot skin pressed against each other. “M’gonna…. Right there, bite me. Please fucking bite right there.” She needed a bite of pain to go over the edge. It would do it immediately.

His eyes glazed over, a low growl coming from him as he bit into her skin. He hadn’t expected it from her, but he figured he should drop all exceptions when it came to Bunny and sex.

Everything he thought he knew was crumbling before him, but he wouldn’t have it any other way. Her body was twitching against his, a second orgasm flowing through her in shock waves. Her pretty little moans were pushing him further, licking over the area he had bitten to soothe the burn.

“I’ve got you, you’re okay… doing so good for me sweetheart.” His voice was low and breathless, pulling back from her skin to take a look at her. She looked so relaxed, melting into his touch, eyes struggling to stay open. “Talk to me bunny…”

Her eyes were blurry. Everything felt hot and floaty and she melted right into the bed, leaning into his hand as he stroked her cheek with care. This sort of touch paired with two orgasms had her feeling like she wasn’t in her own body.

“Hi.” She slurred, eyes closing as a blissed-out little smile rose on her lips. “Feel so…” she trailed off, a drunken giggle leaving her lips as she felt his fingers press the hair away from her face, sighing contently as her shaky legs curled around his waist.

He had tried to pull out but she whined sadly, tightening her thighs with a sensitive gasp. “No. No- stay.”

She whispered tiredly. “Don’t. Want you in. Waited… so long.”

Harry couldn’t help but obey, trying his best not to move. The heat of her cunt was welcoming, though the clenches as the walls tried to continue to keep him in and milk him for everything he was worth made it hard. He was tired but… he was obsessed with this feeling.

“Shh. S’okay.” He kissed her cheek. “Still got to clean you up, but I’ll stay here for a minute. You okay?” Her cheeks felt hot under him, her weak hand lifting to hold him there.

“Mhm…. So fuckin’ good.”

There was nothing in her mind but him. The way it should always be. She was nervous that if she closed her eyes for too long she’d wake up and it would all have been a dream. The soft kisses he left over her skin were telling her otherwise.

“Really want to lick you clean, you know?” Harry couldn’t help himself, he was high on her. Seeing the way she reacted to him triggered something new within him, was it possible that he was capable of love?

“We’ll save it for another time though…” He chuckled at her whining, happy to see she was eager and up for it. He knew better, the tension that would build up from here would make it all worth it.

Harry glanced up at the clock on his bedside table and relaxed when he saw it was just around 4 pm. Plenty of time for them to clean up, eat, and snuggle some more.

“Why did we never do this before?” Bunny asked curiously, knowing now she wasn’t alone in her desires.

“Because I would have been slaughtered by your brother. And you’re too good for me.” He said simply. That much he knew.

She was sweet and kind and wasn’t supposed to be connected to this mess. Even looking down at her, he felt slightly guilty for pulling her into this. It would never be the same for her again now that she was exposed to this lifestyle. To his temper. And even then, he hoped she wouldn’t have to see him in his true rage.

“M’not good for you. But you’re mine anyways.” He rubbed his nose against hers, pressing a chaste kiss to her lips. He was selfish and he could admit that. He should have let her go when this was all over if he was a good guy. It was nice that he wasn’t. “The moment you let me inside of you sealed the deal. I was gonna be nice, gonna let you be happy without me but I don’t think I can.”

[whore4brielle]

TOJI FUCKING HIS WIFES CAREGIVER. ❃

Let’s just say you liked your job. You’ve seen people from all over the world before migrating back to your small hometown and you’ve helped people in the comfort of their own homes. a daily occurrence.

Megumi’s mother was one of those people.

She was traumatized after the birth of her son. Megumi fushiguro. And it was normal for women to be depressed after giving birth. At first it wasn’t the kind of thing you would deal with. But you had no problem fitting her into your schedule. You went to Mr’s fushiguro’s house every two weeks. And it had been like that for the past two months. You would help her relax. Even give her her medications and make sure she had a full meal, including helping out with megumi as well. Those two months were nice. It was just you and Mrs fushiguro. Until her husband started to show up frequently.

“Oh this is my husband toji” she would say, clearly ecstatic to see the man after all this time. You wondered where he had been, it didn’t really matter though as soon has you saw his figure. He was an attractive male. A nice suit coated his waist along with a nice pair of fitted pants. “How’s my wife doing” he would say looking up at you, you stood on the other side of the bed. Megumi in the center of the room in his play pen. Tv playing cartoons. You looked up at the man for the first time making eye contact. He just smiled has you nodded your head.

“She’s doing fine” you would say. It felt that the start of your little problem was already beginning. The way you would look at toji everytime he was around. Knowing it was wrong to think about him in that aspect. Of course while still dealing with his wife and child. You had to remind yourself that he was married. You just looked at the small ring on Mr’s fushiguro’s finger to remind yourself. You thought the thoughts were gone after not seeing toji anymore. He didn’t come around for the past month. And your last few weeks there. No sign of him. You weren’t the one waiting. Mr’s fushiguro was waiting. She started getting more comfortable talking about her husband in your last few weeks at the estate. How much she missed him and small things like his favorite foods.

“You can’t tell anyone okay” she would say directing her attention towards You has you fed megumi, she raised from the bed looking at you. You swore not to tell anyone and she would jokingly tell you that her husband toji was an assassin. She would go on to tell you about all his made up travels. Making him sound more cooler as she over exaggerated certain stories. Baby megumi who sat in your lap super excited has he listened to the nonsense. You just laughed as she made stupid “pew pew” sounds with her mouth.

That was the first time you had ever felt a large amount of guilt for looking at toji the way you did when he was home. How you thought about him after your shifts. Or when you were organizing something nearby.

❃ It was your first time back at the estate since your last few months there. You were here to regularly check on Mr’s s fushiguro like always. Knocking on the door before revealing toji, her husband.

“Is your wife here sir?” You would say.

“No she’s at work.” He would reply.

“Mmm i see.. so she decided to go back.. great”. You knew it was the right choice for her. Jotting it down in your small hand writing on the chart you held. You raised your head looking at the man again. Then peeping into the door seeing no signs of megumi anywhere.

“Oh and megumi.. how is he?” You would say.

“He’s good. He’s with his babysitter right now. I have work in a few?”

“Oh.” You would say. Everyone seemed to be living their lives. Mr’s fushiguro didn’t need you anymore. You still peeped a glance at toji has he smiled at you. The man always smiled at you. The reason unknown.

“You’re welcomed to stay.”

“Oh no I don’t think that’s appropriate” you became flustered at your words. Before the man standing in the doorway chuckled.

“I have a few minutes to spare before work, we can have tea. Let this be a reward for putting my wife back on her feet.”

You smiled as you couldn’t pass it up. Walking into the door. Brushing by toji has you felt the chills of the large home once again. The white short dress you wore and the silver necklace on your neck has your accessory . The outfit making you look slightly professional.

You were sitting at the kitchen aisle has toji prepared the tea he promised for the two of you. Handing you the black mug has you tasted the tea. The soothing feeling immediately warming you up has you swallowed the liquid. Him watching you has your mind wandered off to somewhere different. Knowing the look was a sinful look. And the gesture. Maybe all of this was wrong in someway.

Your gaze traveled down noticing the visible ring on tojis finger. You placed the mug back on the table. “How long have you and Mr’s fushiguro been married?” You decided to ask knowing she never actually told you. “Since college. Pretty much. Since forever.”. “Is she your first love?” You would ask has you saw the glint in tojis eyes.

“Yes she is.” He smiled. Has You nodded.

Even though toji was married and you already knew that. Your heart was still being ripped out of your chest. You were only 24. Never experiencing the fate of love. And even if you did, you were way too young to be capable of getting married or even staying committed to the idea of a relationship. Being committed to your job was all you really had.

“You ever been inlove y/n.”

You looked up meeting tojis gaze. You replying with a simple no. Before avoiding his gaze again. Taking a sip of your tea in the process. Him, standing on the other side of the aisle. Smiling has you felt embarrassment take it’s toll over you.

“That’s why I feel that you and Mr’s fushiguro are special.” You sitting your mug back on the plad surface.

“Oh really?” He would say before stirring the liquid inside the mug with a small spoon.

“Mhm” nodding has he looked at you.

“At first I thought you didn’t really like me that much? I’m glad that wasn’t the case has time went on. It felt like.. you were always staring at me whenever I was around.”

“What do you mean?” You would say. The response catching you off guard. Thinking toji never noticed you this whole entire time. It makes things even worser for you knowing you could lose your job if your specific situation went public.

“Oh so now you decide to act clueless?”

You sighed. Turning your head to avoid tojis eyes once again. You were at a lost for words. Deciding to stay silent.

“So should I let your job know then. That you’re looking at a married husband during work hours.”

You looked back at him, gasping. “Don’t tell my job” you would say “please… I’ll do anything okay.”

“Relax pretty girl. I know what you can do” that shit eating grin on his face.

And then your mind started to wander if all of this was actually wrong. You knew what you had to do to keep your job. You knew the whole entire time.

❃ silent moans echoed through the estate. Until you could feel toji hitting your cervix repeatedly on the small counter of the kitchen. The front door just a millisecond away from where the two of you where. He grabbed onto your waist pulling your closer towards him has you uttered out the words “break” you looking up at the door making sure the door knob didn’t unexpectedly turn.

You were so scared. The adrenaline rush getting to you has toji sped up his pace at your words. “Mmm you like fucking on a married man.. I can sense it”. You couldn’t even form one sentence after those words. Your mouth agape has you started to feel everything around you get even more silent. The corruption of smacking noises sent you over the edge. And you were gonna cum sooner than you expected.

“What’s wrong pretty girl” toji teased you for your akward silence. The face you were making revealed your dirty secret. And you didn’t even have to say anything before toji rubbed at your clit. A failed attempt to smack his hand away made you cum. Louder moans filled the kitchen area has toji cupped your mouth with his hand. “I know baby, keep it down” his words practically background noise has your eyes closed.

The small ring laying on the blank area beside you.

[willothewispwisteriadawn]

Do you think there was a plan for Josh and Sam to have a romance in Until Dawn? I feel like it was implied that they at least have feelings for each other by Josh's "joke" about helping Sam with the bath/specific mention of her being there and Sam's comment at the end of the game, but if so i wonder why they didn't give more lore or moments between them. I mean the big obvious reason is that Josh was playing his elaborate prank on the others and he was obviously not in a good mental state and just lost his sisters and would be gone the majority of the game. But idk i just wish we could have had more knowledge about them or scenes with them. Josh gives the vibe that he talks more game than he has. I believe when he truly likes someone he is quite smitten and sometimes surprises himself with the things he may blurt out. Honestly, i don't think Sam didn't want to "take advantage" of Josh considering the events going on so she was being very careful and considering her feelings but this traumatic event was bringing them together *cough what Josh said Chris and Ash needed* so it was getting hard to deny those feelings.

Oh I like this question! I’ve mentioned it before, but Josh x Sam is my favorite ship.

I don’t think there’s much evidence they were originally intended to be a couple or that the devs see it that way. Even so, I definitely got the impression that Josh cared for Sam more deeply than anyone but Chris. His stats show that Sam is 3-way tied for second with Ashley and Jess, and Sam’s have most people equal (Mike and Jess are lower), but there’s a lot of lore connecting Josh and Sam.

Josh comes across as kind of girl-crazy to me, because of his comments towards Sam, Jess, and Ashley. But there are several things that jumped out to me about him and Sam:

There’s dialogue where Josh tells Sam that he’s happy everyone could make it to the lodge. Then he emphasizes the fact that he’s happy Sam could make it.

Sam says in her interviews that Josh had told her that he felt a special bond with her. Josh had claimed that Sam understood him more than anyone and that they had a connection.

Josh talks a ton about finding her pretty. Again, he does this to other girls, but there’s quite a lot of it during Sam’s psycho chase.

There are some little gestures and statements the characters make that I find sweet too. If Sam is nervous to explore the sound in the basement by herself, she’ll hold onto Josh’s arm when they look together. When Josh and Sam get chased by Chris in the monk costume, Josh will hold out his arm to prevent “the masked monk” from getting to Sam. Sam, if she finds the psycho lair, can tell Josh she thinks he’s crying for help which is very empathetic and caring, considering what he put her through.

Finally, I did write an analysis for Reddit at some point, just unpacking Josh’s motives, and I did find it interesting to reflect on Josh showing Sam the tape of him dying, particularly because (as you also noted) he admits/hints a few times that his prank has been intended to bring people closer, and the game gives a lot of indicators that it was meant to be psychological manipulation.

Josh is deeply disturbed, obviously, and it’s not always clear what his exact logic is— but I do get the sense/headcanon that he genuinely wanted to see what Sam and Chris would do in situations involving his death. His dialogue towards Chris while he’s “dying” is very much “we’re still friends, right?” and he’s legitimately pissed later if Chris chooses Ashley.

Josh: Bro! Bro, we've been through so much, come on... I don't wanna go out like this...!

Josh: I know... I know we haven't been the best of friends lately... and I've been kinda messed up and everything... but I'm getting better, man... I swear!

Josh: I thought we were FRIENDS man! I thought we were FRIENDS why would you DO THIS!?

Josh: NO! OH GOD WHAT DID I DO!??

I mean, this can be read a few ways, certainly. Josh is definitely trying to terrify and mess with Chris, and the last line could also be fake-directed at the psycho. But some of this dialogue sounds like it has a grain of truth in it. Josh may be safe, and he does want Ashley to ultimately think Chris saved her, but he is genuinely learning whom his best friend loves more and truly does have to make sense of why Chris doesn’t choose him, if that’s the case.

Now, with this context, I feel like he plays a similar game with Sam. He, as the psycho, asks Sam how she feels about seeing Josh die.

Sam turns back around to see Josh getting cut in half.

Sam: Josh!

Psycho: How does it make you feel?

I sense there’s a level of dark curiosity Josh has with Sam and Chris. And my interpretation here tracks with how I view their relationships. I believe he cares about what Sam and Chris think. He wants the whole group, particularly the couples (DOUBLE particularly to Chris and Ashley), to get closer. But when he goes about attempting this bonding for himself— it’s most clear that he might be trying to do so with Sam and Chris.

All this said, I do think there’s less canonically indicating that Sam has quite the same level of feelings for Josh. Sam is very independent while also being something of a “Team Mom.” I think she’s known Josh a long time due to her friendship with Hannah, and it’s evident that she spent a lot of time talking to him after the twins vanished. Josh just has a bit more indicating he loves Sam as more than friends than vice versa.

So uh TL;DR—

I think it makes a lot of sense that Josh has a crush on Sam. It’s unconfirmed, but there are many things that caught my eye and made me interpret that. The reading that feels the most accurate is that it’s a bit one-sided, because it feels stronger on Josh’s end. That said, Josh and Sam as a ship fascinates me and has SO MUCH GOOD about it given their defined history. Also, the conversations they can have feel less superficial than how most of the couples talk. I like it a lot.

[creative-caramel-coffee]

Seldom Self-care Sickness

Prompt: Hopelessly Bad at Self-Care

Pairings: Wandanat x R

Word count: 1.4K

Summary: you were pretty bad at looking after yourself when It came to getting work done. So much so you made yourself sick. But your girls love you all the same.

TW: fever, Flu, non-sexual nudity, implied sexual joke (just one), slight angst, traumatic past (mentioned)

A/N i feel like all my fics are kinda the same thing… im considering opening up requests once i figure out how to…

“honey your going to get sick if you don’t take breaks. love your working yourself into the ground.” Wanda cooed. you brushed the hair from your eyes and went back to work, huffing slightly.

“your probably worse than nat, my love, take a break and we can cuddle.” Wanda tried again.

nat huffed “shes defiantly worse than me at least i take breaks every once in a while.” Wanda shot nat a glare and she went back to typing out her mission report.

you knew they were right, you hadn’t slept or eaten or even stopped to pee lately. work was all you could think about. with the last mission you went on failing you felt the need to prove yourself. after hydra you had always had issues with self worth and work ethic. mainly you didn’t feel you had any. your worked yourself to the bone until your girls picked up the pieces, which they didn’t mind, after all they loved you. you had grown up on the ideology that in order to be valuable and loved you had to earn your keep. of course even a whole year after your rescue the things they taught you were hard to shake off.

“‘m fine wands i need to get this done anyway.” you sighed when she began massaging your shoulders feeling the pent up stress you held in your neck and back. you let your eyes drift shut for a second revealing in the idea of a break before they snapped open and you went back to work. Wanda sighed heavily and retreated back to the bedc to snuggle into nat. every once in a while she shot you a sad look but you huffed and continued writing out the reports.

“baby i brought you some water for a reason. you may want to work but you do need to drink.” Wanda cooed, and you placed down the pen with a bang, emptying the glass while holding Wanda’s eyes the whole time. you wiped you hand over the back of your mouth, replaced the glass on the table and picked up the pen again. Wanda sighed knowing you had at least had some water now which she supposed was better than nothing at all.

she had just began to doze off against Nat’s thigh when a sneeze startled her awake. you grinned sheepishly and waved a hand.

“Pollen count.” you said dismissively and Wanda shot a pointed look at the closed window.

“baby-“

“I need to work.” you cut her off.

“what you really need is to rest.” nat said without looking up from her own report.

“why don’t you harass Natasha for a bit Wanda.” you huffed the room feeling uncomfortably warm.

“because i know when to stop, unlike you.” nat shot back without any malice.

Wanda sighed and began to lazily trace patterns on Nat’s thigh which shivered under her touch. slowly she began to fall asleep again. only to, once again be woken by a sneeze. followed by another three. when you had stopped Wanda raised an eyebrow. she stood up wand walked over to your desk. hands on her hips. “right thats enough, come to bed or i’ll make you, your going to get sick one way or the other now and i don’t need you to be writing nonsense with a high fever.” upon closer look she saw the slight shaking you body was doing, open betrayal.

“right.” Wanda said sounding frustrated at your lack of response. swiftly she laid the back of her palm on your forehead before you could react she tutted.

you moaned at the feeling of cool skin against your fevered face, which felt like a fire was brewing. under your skin.

Wanda’s eyes went wide “baby.” she scolded “you have a fever, no wonder you don’t feel good.” she sighed using her hand to draw the sweaty hair from your face. her fingers tangling in the knots.

nat appeared by her side. she put one hand under your knees and another on your back as she scooped you up bridal style. she was concerned at your lack of protests as she did so and shot Wanda a worried look that was quickly returned. how had you gotten sick so fast? carefully Natasha deposited you on the bed and Wanda went to find a thermometer.

Nat brushed the hair from your face and your eyes fluttered shut in content.

“honey, you need to look after yourself better” she cooed her fingers carding your hair backwards.

“alright.” Wanda said reappearing with a small thermometer. “open” she said tapping a finger on your jaw. you glared but complied.

“good girl.” Wanda said using a finger to close your still open mouth after she slipped it under your tongue.

Wanda hummed and rummaged through the cupboards to find some medicine. “just in case your fevers high we might give you some medicine or even a shower.” your eyes lit up making her chuckle

“not that kind of shower my sweet. save that for when your better.” she winked. you slumped against Nat’s shoulder.

“aww your too cute when you pout baby.” she cooed. the thermometer beeped and she carefully took it out when you faced her. holding it away from you and Nat she read off the number.

“102.7” she said frowning at it. “baby thats too high.” she sighed.

“love you go start the shower and i’ll bring her in when your ready.” nat said as if you weren’t there. which in some ways you weren’t, your eyes had taken a glossy effect as you stared into space. but at the word shower you began squirming in Nat’s lap.

“shh shhh shhh” she cooed in your ear. “it’ll be ok, Wanda and I will be with you the whole time.” you knew from past experience how much a fever shower sucked and were under no compulsion to have another. nat scooped you up as Wanda called from the bathroom, the sound of running water coming through the door. you stopped wriggling in Nat’s arms and succumbed to your torture. going limo as nat shot you a sad look as if she felt sorry for you and you began pouting again.

“shh bubs its alright”

carefully she peel off your sweat soaked clothes and passed your shaking form to Wanda who set your feel down and pulled you flush to her front.

“aww its ok my sweet.” she cooed, running her hands through your wet hair. after a few minutes the shaking was less and Wanda was satisfied you weren’t as warm anymore, they helped you out of the shower. you were still clinging to Wanda while Nat dried you off with a fluffy towel. she helped you step into a pair of fluffy pj pants and into one of Wanda’s shirts. after you were dressed Nat carried you back to the bed so Wanda could get dressed herself.

carefully she set you down and pulled the thermometer out of the draw where Wanda had stashed it earlier.

“open up bubs.” she cooed and you did so with sad eyes.

you were nestled in a mountain of pillows when Wanda remerged and you made grabby hands for her. nat was laid by one side and Wanda by the other, you placed your cheek on her thigh and after a second your eyes drifted shut.

the beep surprised you and you felt Wanda’s fingers remove the stick from your mouth. she looked down at it and sighed.

“101.2 better but still not good.” Wanda looked at Nat who gestured to you, who was half asleep and struggling to keep your eyes open against Wanda’s thigh. you would close them before opening them suddenly only to blink for a few seconds before they slide shut again.

“go to sleep my love. we’ll be here. we’ll keep you safe.” Wanda cooed as Nat ran her hands through your damp hair.

the feeling of her fingers on your scalp drew you to sleep and soon the girls smiled at the soft snores they could hear coming from their tired and sick girlfriend.

MASTERLIST

[merrybloomwrites]

You Can Start a Family (Extra: Pet Loss)

Summary: When one of your cats suddenly dies, Harry, Mitch, and Sarah are there to comfort you.

AN: I started writing this story back in January when one of my cats suddenly passed away. I wrote it to kind of process that loss. Decided it was finally time to share it. Kind of a heavy one, but I felt like it's been a while since I posted some good hurt/comfort.

Previous Chapters:

Main Story: One ; Two ; Three ; Four ; Five ; Six ; Seven ; Eight ; Nine ; Ten

Sickfic Part 1 ; Part 2

Mitchrry Prequel

Fan Reactions

Holiday Blues

Mitchryy Reunion

Getting High

First Earthquake

Mitch x Reader Cockwarming

Harry x Reader First Time

Word Count: 1.7K

CW: pet loss, grief

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You’ve been through your fair share of traumatic events, each leaving you with another loss, another hole in your life. Even though there were people around you each time, you felt so alone. Their support tapered off after a few days, or weeks. They said they were there for you, but life happens. You’re supposed to move on, and people have their own things to worry about. 

That’s how it always went.

Until you met Sarah, Mitch, and Harry. They never stopped supporting you. When the grief became too much, even years after the loss, or when your nightmares kept everyone awake, they never left. They held you. They sang to you. They knew when you wanted them around and when you just wanted to cuddle your cats. 

Your two little calicos, Tilly and Teddy, had been by your side for years. You rescued them shortly after you lost your mom and sister. They always knew when you needed some extra cuddles or laughs. 

They weren’t senior cats, but they weren’t kittens either, having already been a few years old when you rescued them at the local shelter. 

It’s a completely normal morning, you’re getting ready for work when you hear Tilly start to heave. You’re no stranger to the sound of cats puking, and Tilly will on occasion eat her breakfast too fast, causing it to come back up. You walk over, planning to comfort her, when suddenly she starts to shake. You may not be a vet, but you know a seizure when you see one. It only lasts a few seconds and you immediately stroke her fur, reassuring her. 

You call out for the others and they’re by your side in seconds. 

“What’s wrong?” Harry asks, sounding slightly panicked. 

“It’s Tilly, she just, I thought she was going to puke and just just started seizing. It’s too early in the morning, her vet’s not open, I don’t know where to take her,” you reply frantically. Tilly’s in your arms now, panting, something she never does. 

“Found a place that’s open,” Mitch says, showing Harry something on his phone. 

“Okay, let’s go,” he says and helps you stand up. 

You wrap Tilly in a blanket and turn to Sarah, saying, “Can you stay and watch Teddy please?”

“Of course, I’ve got her. I’ll call the vet and tell them you’re coming.” 

The three of you rush out to the car, Mitch behind the wheel and Harry with you and Tilly in the back. 

The drive is tense, everyone’s quiet. There’s just the sound of you reassuring the cat cuddled in your arms that everything will be okay. 

The next 30 minutes pass in a daze. The vet takes Tilly from you the second you walk in the door and the receptionist leads you and Harry to a private room. You wait a few minutes, hand clutching Harry’s tight, and then the door opens. The vet doesn’t have to say anything for you to know that it’s bad news. 

He begins to explain what he thinks happened, that Tilly likely had a heart condition. After she passed they had done an ultrasound and confirmed her heart was enlarged. He tells you that this condition is rarely found in time. That it almost always ends in tragedy like this. 

You listen closely, and while you’re absolutely devastated by the loss, it is some consolation that nothing you did caused this. 

Harry watches you closely as you calmly and decidedly discuss next steps, choosing the cremation option and signing all the paperwork. The doctor then asks if you want to say goodbye to Tilly and you say yes. 

“Do you want me to come with you, love?” Harry asks. 

You shake your head no, needing this to be a private moment with your baby, something you do alone. The vet leads you to an exam room where your cat lays, wrapped once again in her blanket. You spend a few minutes petting her, placing a few last kisses to her head, and saying goodbye. When you’re ready, you wipe away your tears and are led back to the lobby where Harry is waiting. 

You settle the bill with the kind receptionist and another staff member brings out the blanket. You thank everyone for helping and walk back out to the car, Harry following behind. 

You get in the passenger seat across from Mitch but don’t greet him, can’t bring yourself to form any words right now. He rests a firm hand on your leg, giving a reassuring squeeze, and you give him a small smile in return.

The drive home is quiet, no one knowing what to say and you hold onto the blanket like it’s a lifeline. When you get home Teddy comes running to you. 

Leaning down, you pick her up and carry her to your bedroom, closing the door behind you. Now home, sitting on your bed, you finally let yourself break down. Sobs rip through your body as you stroke Teddys fur in an attempt to soothe both of you. 

Mitch, Sarah, and Harry all stand in the living room, unsure of what to do but hopeful that you’ll turn to them when you’re ready. 

Half an hour passes and your sobs turn to sniffles. Finally, you make your way out of the bedroom and onto the couch between Harry and Sarah. 

She begins to rub your back and you lean into the touch. “We’re here for you, whatever you need,” she says, and you believe her. For the first time, there are people who are there solely to take care of you during a difficult time. 

This brings back the tears, and you begin to cry again, this time not only from sadness about Tilly, but about all you’ve had to suffer alone in the past. Suddenly you’re surrounded, the three of them all holding you in one big, clumsy group cuddle.

Time passes and you look up, eyes meeting Harry. 

“It wasn’t my fault, right?” You need to ask, the guilt still eating you away. 

“No, baby. It was not your fault. The doctor said there was nothing you could do. This is never caught until it’s too late. You didn’t do anything wrong.” His words are so strong, so sure, and help ease some of the guilt. It will take some time to fully believe that, but you know Harry will be there to remind you of the truth each time you need it. 

“I want to get Teddy tested,” you say. “See if she has the same condition.”

“Do you want me to call your vet? I can fill them in and get an appointment for Teddy,” Mitch says. 

“Yes please,” you reply, relieved to have something taken off your plate. In the past, everything fell on your shoulders. Every decision, every phone call, every bit of planning, it all fell on you. 

But now, not only did Mitch anticipate what needs to be done, but promptly gets up to take care of it so you don’t need to worry about it. 

He comes back a few minutes later saying, “Teddy has an appointment tomorrow afternoon. They’ll do a blood test to check if she has any signs of the condition.”

You thank him for his help before extracting yourself from the embrace you’re still wrapped in with Harry and Sarah. 

“I don’t know about you guys, but I could use some tea,” you say. 

“I’ve got it baby,” Harry replies and walks to the kitchen. He first brings in glasses of water, telling you to hydrate. Next is some fruit. Then the tea. And finally eggs and toast. The coffee table is filled with dishes, another sign of how the others take care of you, and while you don’t really have much of an appetite, you find you’re able to eat a sufficient breakfast. 

You spend the rest of the day at home. The others don’t crowd you, but one of them is always close by in case you need them. They don’t question when you randomly walk up to one of them and lean against them, silently asking for a cuddle. 

You pass Harry in the hallway and turn to him. He happily opens his arms and the two of you stand there, Harry holding you close to him, until the intense wave of sadness passes. 

Later, you find Mitch sitting on the couch writing in a notebook. You sit next to him, resting your head on his shoulder. You’re content to just be near him, watch him work on another new song. You’re especially soothed when he occasionally turns to press kisses to your head. 

When the exhaustion hits in the afternoon you find Sarah, asking if she’ll come lay with you. She’s more than happy to hold you in bed as you nap, Teddy curled into your other side. 

You go back to your normal routine the following day, but Harry, Mitch, and Sarah all notice that you’re a bit more clingy and tired than usual. They keep an eye on you, anticipating when you’re going to need them so you don’t even have to ask. 

Almost two weeks after her death, you get the call that Tilly’s ashes are ready. You go to the emergency vet that day after work, texting your group chat to let the other three know where you are. 

They’re all busy out of the house, but they drop everything to be home when you get there. You’re grateful for this. Picking up that little box makes it feel more real, more final. 

Walking into your home and seeing the others there to support you has the waterworks falling once more. They each take turns wiping your face and kissing the tear stains running down your cheeks. 

This isn’t the last time you’ll cry over this loss, become so overwhelmed by grief that the feelings are just too much. But no matter when it happens, someone is always there to help you. 

Loss and grief have been such a large part of your life, but now with Harry, Sarah, and Mitch by your side, you can move through the feelings, rather than drown in them.

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AN: Thanks for reading! I have a few more extras planned for this story!

Taglist: @akkatz @pandeebearstyles @walkingintheheartbreaksatellite@theekyliepage@numafarawayglxy @booberry019-blog @hillzrry@ssareidbby @gem1712 @acesofspadess@houseofdilfs@shaquille-0atmeal-1@kissitnhekitchen @amateurduck @poguestyleskye@n0vaj3an@snwells@drunk-teens-doing-drugs ; @fdl305@creativelyeva@daphnesutton@selluequestrian@lovingfurypanda @stardream14 @tbsloneely@eversincehs1@boomitsallie1@rose-garden-dreamz@fictionalmensblog@buckybarnessimpp

[autistichalsin]

Okay, I’ve been a bit scared because I’ve been observing from the sidelines, but I do want you to know this isn’t a hateful or troll ask, I’m genuinely asking for clarification.

In my experience, “pro-shipping” has always meant ‘problematic shipping’, and all of the people I’ve talked to about this have said the same thing.

Am I the one who’s misconstrued? I really don’t get it.

Being called “pro-harassment” or “pro-censorship” is hurtful and confusing as all hell.

I don’t harass people for what they create. I don’t care to do that. I block and move on, and warn people if I know they could be upset by the content.

But I also don’t understand how certain things are justified.

I am personally not bothered by much, but I have watched friends and acquaintances go through visceral traumatic reactions because people have decided to air out their coping by sharing it with the public. (I.E, people who write romantic incestual fics, etc)

I don’t give a shit what people write. I really don’t. But it feels harmful to use the excuse of coping when you, in turn, could be hurting dozens of others.

Like I said, I genuinely am not trying to be hateful here. I’m confused, and still distraught that all of this is happening. I don’t think anyone deserves to be harassed. I just also don’t get the logic here.

Pro-shipping never once meant problematic shipping. It meant opposite of "anti" because antis would come and invade the tags and asks, calling them all kinds of names if they found their ships distasteful.

Sorry that being indirectly accused of supporting harassment hurt your feelings. Imagine how I felt, being DIRECTLY accused of supporting rape in real life because of my taste in fiction. You are throwing in your lot with people who can't distinguish fantasy and reality.

I don't like incest fics either, anon. They are triggering for me. So you know what I do? I don't read fics tagged as incest. For that reason, I have never been triggered by an incest fic. I suppose I would be if I read an incest fic that wasn't tagged as much, but you will never find a single pro-shipper who defends posting such content without a tag. You are responsible for your own experience online; it is your job to curate the content.

If it was just seeing that the fic exists that triggered the response, then I'm sorry to say they're still in the wrong. As a survivor, learning that triggers exist and how to navigate those triggers is on you. We are responsible for how we deal with our trauma. Your friends didn't deserve their traumas, and they deserve kindness and support, but requesting that people never be allowed to write distasteful fiction so that they don't have to be upset by the idea that someone somewhere shipped incest is not reasonable. Their feelings are valid; it's totally reasonable to be triggered, to strictly curate your online experience. It's reasonable to block everyone who ships the upsetting incest ships, to put an "incest shippers DNI" on your page, all of it. It's not reasonable to call them supporters of IRL incest or to accuse them of causing your trauma. It isn't hard at all on AO3 or Tumblr; they even give you the option to blacklist/filter out certain tags so you can avoid it without blocking users. There's easily half a dozen safeguards that already exist that are a lot less radical, a lot less likely to be weaponized against queer users, and a lot easier to enforce than trying to remove them.

Me writing fics, such as a character using kink to cope, can only harm a user who doesn't curate their feed (and who reads fics they know will trigger them, which I can only assume would then be a purposeful form of self-harm). Denying other survivors their coping mechanism, though, IS a direct form of harm. Stigmatizing recovery by saying that survivors are in any way akin to abusers for creating fiction is a direct form of harm.

It sounds to me like you've absorbed some very harmful and very narrow ideas of what recovery should and should not look like, and what is and isn't a good/valid survivor. You might want to reflect on why you're turning your attention to policing what survivors do to cope so much.

[kiwisandpearls]

Easing the Pain

Macaque x Platonic! Gn! Reader

Summary: You may have physically moved past the events dealing with the Lady Bone Demon, but you did not move on mentally, and Macaque is there to help you through it

Warnings: Lego Monkie Kid season 3 spoilers, reader being traumatized, Macaque potentially acting OOC, reader using they/them pronouns, and mention of nightmares

You couldn’t sleep again. Another nightmare plagued your mind. It had always been this way. After everything that had happened with The Lady Bone Demon, something inside you had changed. You would constantly get nightmares about what happened, and due to that you couldn’t sleep as much. You sighed, staring up at the ceiling while you laid back on your bed.

You then heard the familiar sound of a portal opening and shutting as you casually moved your eyes to your right, only to see a familiar brown monkey. You smiled softly.

“Hey, Macaque,” you rasped out. Macaque’s yellow eyes widened slightly, whether because of your disheveled appearance or that fact that you were even awake at that hour.

“Uh . . . hey kiddo,” Macaque slightly stuttered. You two sight in an awkward silence until you moved your eyes back ahead to look at the ceiling.

“What’s up? Coming to watch me sleep?” You teased. Macaque chuckled awkwardly, sitting down on the floor next to your bed.

“No not really, just wanted to check in on you, after well . . . y’know . . .” Macaque trailed off. Your smile faded away slowly.

“Macaque, I’m fine, you don’t need to worry, I’m just having a bad dream here and there occasionally,” you rasped out once more. You didn’t want him to worry. These were your troubles and your troubles to deal with alone. Macaque looked at you with a hard look.

“No, kid, I don’t think you get it. I know you’ve been dealing with more than just a few ‘bad dreams’, and I can clearly tell you’re hurting,” he sternly said. You turned your head away from him. When you didn’t respond to him he continued, “and that’s ok, but what’s not ok is you hiding it and not opening up to anyone about it.” You stayed silent as your body started to shake.

“I guess it would feel nice to open up about all this,” you tried to say it lightly, but it only came out as a pathetic murmur as your voice started to waver. You turned your head to Macaque with tears in your eyes, “I just don’t know what to do.” Macaque looked at you sympathetically.

“That’s alright, we can talk more about this tomorrow,” Macaque cooed. He raised his hand to your head and slowly started to pet it, “just go back to sleep, kid. I’ll be here, in case you have a nightmare.” You nodded, slowly feeling yourself falling asleep. And for once in what it felt like years, you finally had a good night’s sleep without any nightmares.

I wrote the majority of this on my phone lol. This didn’t really turn out like I wanted it to but it’s fine. Sorry macaque was ooc here this was my second time really writing him. Sorry if this was pretty short too.

also, reminder that my requests are open. Kay bye

[queenjunothegreat]

Excerpt from my upcoming Star Trek AU

Sorry, guys, I am incurably impatient, and this was such a fun scene to write that I couldn't not share. (｡◕ω◕｡✿)     

Jason nodded in understanding, then started tugging Leo towards the big, plush bed in the middle of the room. “Come on. Sleep time. We’ll deal with this in the morning.”

Leo gasped in offense. “Commander Grace! Are you trying to get me into bed with you?”

“That is almost always at least a subconscious goal of mine, yeah.”

Leo snickered and shoved Jason so they fell into bed together. They blindly kicked their boots off to sit in a pile next to the bed, and Jason took a moment to mourn the sleep set he had folded up under his pillow on the Argo. He hadn’t expected this to be an overnight mission, else he would have packed better, even if Leo didn’t seem to mind all the extra layers. He was still too far away, though, so Jason huffed and tugged at him. “Come here,” he ordered, his tone going a little hard.

“Aye, sir!” Leo’s eyes lit up in amusement as he did as he was told and flopped down over Jason’s chest, chin digging softly into his clavicle. Jason heaved a deep sigh of relief and squeezed Leo until he heard him let out a soft wheeze of air.

“You know,” Leo said conversationally, tracing his finger over the Command patch on Jason’s chest, “If you ever do wind up getting Captaincy, they’re going to have to put me on a different ship.”

Jason immediately stiffened and he clutched at Leo, almost possessively. “What? Why?”

Leo grinned like all of his plans came to fruition at once. “Because your command voice is just too damn sexy. You’d be all like ‘Crew we are under red alert. Battle stations,” and I’d just fling myself in your lap in that stupid Captain's chair like ‘Oh, Captain Grace, take me now!’ I’d traumatize all the poor Ensigns. Sorry, but Starfleet doesn’t pay me enough to afford their therapy sessions and mine.”

Jason laughed so hard he felt it in his bones and he ducked his head to press his nose into Leo’s curls again. “That would be truly terrible, yes.”

“Mhm. That’s why they’re going to separate us.”

“I don’t really like the sound of that,” Jason said honestly. “I can’t think of anything less fulfilling than exploring the stars without you.”

Leo was quiet for a moment before he snorted derisively, but Jason could feel the heat in his cheeks when he nuzzled under Jason’s chin. “Sap. Fine, I’ll stay on your ship. But you’ve got to figure out a less sexy command voice, got it?”

“I’ll do my best,” Jason hummed. Suddenly, Kihone’s words from before rang in his ears. Greatness rings in your name. You should not rob your father of the credit he is due. “Hey, Leo?”

“Mhm?”

“What do you think about the name Captain Valdez?”

Leo paused then sat up so he could get a good look at Jason’s face. Jason just laid still and allowed himself to be looked at. “Depends. Does that name come with a promotion for me?”

Jason shook his head. “Not unless you want it to.”

Leo watched him for another moment before he surged forward and pressed their mouths together. “Then I think that’s the best damn name I’ve ever heard, Jace,” he mumbled low against Jason’s lips.

Jason smiled and brought his hands up to brush his thumbs across Leo’s cheekbones and kissed him again. “Yeah?”

“Mhm. Also solves our traumatized Ensigns issue,” Leo grinned. “‘Take me now, Captain Valdez’ would be super weird for me to say in the heat of the moment.”

Jason snorted and knocked their foreheads together. “Oh, good. Glad that’s solved. Now, go to sleep. I want us to be out of here first thing in the morning.”

“Aye, Future Captain Valdez,” Leo teased, pressing one last kiss to Jason’s mouth before tucking his head under Jason’s chin.

Jason hummed softly to himself as he traced meaningless shapes against Leo’s back. Captain Valdez, he thought. I think I like the sound of that. 

He fell asleep with a smile on his face.