#its so evident of how much hes grown while still fighting

[twentyonefirstmates]

Anyway oldies station is the most beautiful song ever written sorry I don't make the rules

[wraith-caller]

I really want to understand what's going on when you attack Fia and a spell hits you, so I'm like trying to muddle my way through who is doing the spell. Spoiler alert, I'm not confident that it actually is Godwyn, and it mostly comes down to his level of consciousness being so ambiguous.

If you aren't aware, when you attack Fia after she moves to Deeproot Depths, sometimes there will be a retaliation in the form of Rancorcall(specifically this and NOT Ancient Death Rancor, which puts out more skulls). Some have said "It only happens when she begins gestating the rune" but this is not the case, as this retaliation can still happen before you even give her the other cursemark.

VV Click to watch me fight myself in a Denny's parking lot like the gibbering buffoon that I am VV

Points in favor of it being Godwyn, plus counterarguments:

-Godwyn is protecting Fia so that she can create the mending rune.

Counterpoint: This would be the only direct instance of Godwyn expressing any sort of will or intention post-soul death. If there were further evidence of Godwyn doing anything intentional, this point would be a stronger argument. As it stands, this is essentially circular logic: "This is enough evidence of Godwyn taking action of his own volition and we know it because here he is taking action of his own volition." There are multiple instances in Elden Ring of a soul being essential to the higher functioning of a person. Ranni is purely a soul in a doll body, and is perfectly lucid and capable of higher thought. Sellen's puppet body is lifeless until her primal glintstone is inserted into it. And most damning of all is the case of the D twins, who share a soul, and as a consequence, only the one with the soul can be awake. The evidence for awareness and lucidity of bodies without souls is vanishingly thin. Those Who Live in Death do little else but fight, while other mob enemies can be seen praying, grieving, foraging, or even begging us for their lives.

-Godwyn is the Prince of Death and this is a death spell, which we can find on a scarab on the way to his second corpse in Stormveil

Counterpoint: This relates back to intention. We do not know if Godwyn wants anything, much less to be this 'prince of death' or if he would rather not be relieved of his suffering. Additionally, this spell is a once-forgotten hex rediscovered by Necromancer Garris. Garris may be Tarnished, as his eyes are not gold or blue, which are the colors of the graceborn natives of the Lands Between like Tanith or Thops, or the Carian associated natives, like Sellen or Seluvis. His eye color is quite similar to a few of the Bloody Fingers, who Yura tells us are Tarnished. The reason this is relevant to it allegedly being Godwyn using this spell is that, if this spell was rediscovered by a Tarnished, it is less likely that Godwyn would be making use of it as it would have been lost knowledge when he was alive and aware enough to learn and use it.

Even if you do suppose that his undead form is aware enough to learn this spell, you then have to justify how he learned of it if this necromancer is the one to rediscover it. It's tempting to say 'well duh a necromancer might come to Godwyn's corpse', but then you have to justify that. Here is where we may concede Garris was at Stormveil at some point, given the spell is found on a scarab there. So there is the possibility of him communing with Godwyn's second corpse. However, again, we run into the issue of awareness. This second corpse is not yet full grown, still lacking eyes and half of its body. Is it capable of relaying such information back to the original corpse at the base of the Erdtree?

For these reasons, it would be more straightforward if Fia is the one using the spell. We already know she is capable of death sorceries(and may be extremely competent with them, as she has crafted her own), and we know she is most likely a more recent arrival to the Lands Between(relative to Godwyn) given her exile. This, combined with her interest in death, would perfectly explain how she may come to be in the company of a necromancer and learn a spell like this.

-The spell is cast without a catalyst so it must come from a more powerful source than a Tarnished like Fia.

Spells can be cast without catalysts and there is precedence for that with Sellen's body in Witchbane Ruins. If you attack her while she's chained up, she can still summon a phalanx which appears overhead the same way as this rancor, all without even using her hands or waving an arm. I believe when the Nox Maidens use their mists, it is also cast without a stave.

-Fia says, "Godwyn is that you dear?" when the spell is cast.

This isn't 100% accurate, because she says this even before the spell happens.

Points against it being Godwyn, plus counterarguments:

-This manner of death spell is not linked to Godwyn, lacking the signature gold and black particle effects of sorceries like Fia's Mist or Death Flare, and using instead necromancy/ghostflame. It's also weird that, rather than a spell he doesn't simply blight us the way Rogier was blighted in Stormveil.

Counterpoint: Fia's Mist would cause similar ambiguities about who is actually casting the spell. It's also possible the devs care less about these distinctions between types of death sorcery, or that Godwyn is undiscerning. They may also not have had the time to insert a special, unique attack for Godwyn, and just used something readily available which was loosely related to death in a broader sense than specifically those living in death. They may not have used deathblight as was seen used against Rogier since it would be an instant kill, and they want to give you the option to kill Fia for some reason. -If Godwyn is hoping for the mending rune to be made by Fia, it would have made sense for him to also attack Devin both when he first took the cursemark from his flesh, and/or when he came to Fia as she was making it. Counterpoint: It could be that the weathered state of the dagger is evidence of Godwyn having retaliated against Devin, though it must also be noted the weathering may simply be a result of being used on Godwyn's cursed flesh. It may also be that Godwyn did not care to retaliate when Devin returns, because Fia is already dead and the rune is already made. This would, however, indicate he doesn't feel much in the way of anything sentimental for her, given he's apparently okay with Devin harming her corpse.

-Fia is a death sorceress while Godwyn is only known to have been associated with dragon incantations(primarily via his knights and his personal friendship with Fortissax).

Counterpoint: Godwyn learned these spells after his soul died. (This reasoning has issues outlined up above, primarily with intention and the question of how lucid a body can be without a soul given what we know of this world's lore around that).

-We simply do not know enough to say that Godwyn wants to be Prince of Death, while it is something advocated for by Fia, thus giving further reason for the spell to be her defending herself as opposed to Godwyn defending her.

Counterpoint: His inner circle of knights defend his divided corpses and await the Age of the Duskborn. However, it must be noted that this is AGAIN not something evidenced to come from Godwyn's own intentions. His knights are loyal and will serve him until his death and he is simply not dead, given his body lives on. There's also the fact that, in life, Godwyn could not know this was going to happen to him, or that the cursemarks could be used to form a rune, or that his body would sprout deathroot and create TWLID, or that he'd even be killed at all. So he could not have the intention to become this Prince of Death when all the things making that possible occur after his soul death and we again come up against the issue of intention.

-Thematically speaking, preserving the lack of response from Godwyn also preserves the exploration of one's agency in Ranni and Fia's own stories. Godwyn hangs over the narrative but is not a participating force in it the way Ranni and Fia are. Both are linked closely to Godwyn, and their connections to him are all about their own lack of autonomy, and how their treatment of him resolves their struggle for self-determination while robbing him of his own.

Counterpoint: If we accept Fia is making this rune because Godwyn wants it, she would be returning his autonomy and thus be a 'cure' for the consequences of Ranni's action. The tragedy of his undeath would become a source of power for him instead, returning control over his own fate to him. However, this again feels like it runs counter to the point of his story, given that the Duskborn arc is not about giving new life and purpose to old things but rather preserving and clinging to that old thing and forcing it to carry on. The role of a deathbed companion is explicitly NOT about the creation of something new, but the preservation and rejuvenation of something that's already had its time AT THE EXPENSE of something new(an old noble reborn instead of a new child having its chance at life). It is not unlike Radahn with Leonard - Fia sees in the undead not miserable wretches being forced to cling to a diminished halflife, but beloved children for her to mother, as she was robbed of having any for herself after her expulsion from her homeland, and conditioned into seeing the dead as something to be mothered rather than mourned and laid to rest.

[amethystfairy1]

*cracks knuckles*

these brids can fit so much trauma into them its insane. Anyway time for the Skyblings rant that i promised after the first chapter.

Let's start with Pearl. She is what I can assume to be the oldest out of the two twins, while also being the stronger one due to her just missing out on being retained. Her wings are a standard dark colour, useful for stealth missions and favoured among the colony. She has been travelling with Gem for over a year now, and in that time she opened up about preening in roughly a week if i remember correctly. Pearl appears to be more along the healing process than Grian is, however, made evident by them both denying knowing each other in the moment, there is still work to be done. However she is getting along that path to recovery. She openly admitted to Gem that Grian was her brother, even if it did result in her projectile throwing up. Another way that she still seems to struggle is in regards to her injury. She wants to help. She wants to be fighting and not to be a dead weight. She doesn't want to be injured because she probably views it as being unuseful towards Gem. And if she's unuseful she might be sold. At least thats the case in her head.

Now onto Grian. His wings are bright and colourful, not overly encouraged for fighting, especially with his short stature, and meant that he was used more as a display piece. Of course he was still forced to participate in fights, shown in the first fic of this series. He was brought by Mumbo and Scar a couple months ago, and has been slowly going along that recovery process. He does seem to be more adverse to physical contact compared to Pearl, as shown by how long it took him to allow Mumbo and Scar to preen his wings. This is mostly likely partly due to previous masters being incredibly rough with his wings, not to mention the stuff Duke Freemere did. He is more closed off than his sister appears to be, once again refer to the Duke Freemere incident and the recent relapse. However it does show how much he has grown throughout the months he's been with the swaggon based on how opened he was to talking to Mumbo in the newest chapter.

All in all, love TT, love Skyblings, Love your writing. Can't wait for the next TT fic. I am still in denial about what Scar did, so that in of itself might get a seperate rant. Please take care of yourself and make sure to eat and drink. <3

I LOVED THIS

This is so cool!? The breakdown of them both is so beautifully done and underlining why their trauma is slightly different, and you NAILED it, this is all so amazing! I adore the rants! Like seriously I do! I love them so much! So if you ever feel like ranting again by all means please please please do I would love to see them!!! Thank you for sharing!!!

[solbach-colbrock]

Balcony - Seth Borden x Reader

SUMMARY - Seth, your best friend and crush, learns about the state of your mental health when an investigation starts affecting you. His response isn't quite what you expected

WARNINGS - Ghost stuff, mentions of self-harm and suicide (reader is NOT okay), angst (fluffy ending)

WORDS - 6.6k

NOTES - first fic I’ve written in a while and it ended up very dialogue heavy. I also didn't expect it to be this long but here we are

~*~*~*~

Sometimes you weren’t sure why you trusted these boys so much. Sam had requested two things of you for this investigation: one, that you didn’t do any research beforehand so you’d learn the lore from the guide, and two, that you all arrive in the same car so you can have the drive up experience with everyone else. You had gotten into the habit of arriving to locations early to scope the place out before anyone else and doing research before investigations, and the boys started to get pouty about not sharing the experiences, so you complied. It had also been a while since you’d been on an investigation with Seth, so you were excited to see him again. 

You had met Seth after the Sallie House investigation. The boys had immediately FaceTimed you after both the Sallie House and Villisca investigations (and every investigation thereafter that you weren’t involved in) to tell you what they had experienced, and he caught your attention quite quickly. The excitement in his voice and energy about his experiences drew you in somehow more than the other three did, despite Nate practically jumping around the room when he was talking about the 8-ball. You’d been friends with him ever since and loved teaming up with him whenever possible. You had even been on his channel a few times.

To say you two were close was something of an understatement. He had started calling you after his own investigations, and even showed up to your house all hyped about some evidence he caught on numerous occasions. The two of you had grown comfortable with one another very quickly. You had shared beds when locations didn’t have enough for everyone, you constantly teased one another, and you were more than a little physically affectionate with each other. Josh often teased you for being so affectionate, but you were comfortable. 

The first time the teasing bothered you happened only a few months ago. Josh, along with Sam and Colby, had been making jokes about you and Seth being practically married. You were about to respond with a bad joke about finishing paperwork, but Seth replied first. The laugh that broke up his words when he said he could never be with someone like you hurt.  The fact that he found the whole concept funny enough to laugh at shattered any shred of self-confidence you had left in you. He thought you were gross. You swallowed the pain and laughed along with him, but every interaction with him from then on made you feel guilty for bothering him so much.

Eventually, it got easier to act normal again, but the thought that maybe he was serious about what he said still lingered.

The majority of the hour-long drive to the location consisted of Sam and Colby quietly discussing their plans in the front seat, and you and Seth fighting over a bag of gummy worms in the back. Colby finally intervened when you managed to slap Seth in the shoulder with one. 

“Let’s film the intro before these two start a war in the back seat. Everyone ready?” Colby cut in, taking what felt like the 10th right turn the whole drive. Everyone settled, and Sam hit record. 

“What’s up guys, its Sam and Colby, and today we are bringing Seth and Y/N to the famous Haunted Miller House in Fredericktown, Missouri. We are currently… fifteen minutes away from the house. How’s everyone feeling?”

“I’m excited bro. I’ve been wanting to come here for like, almost two years,” Seth admitted as he leaned forward in his seat. You leaned in as well to be heard better by the camera.

“I’ve said this before, but the fact that it’s a house freaks me out just a bit. It screws with my sense of security when we do haunted houses, like, homes are where you’re supposed to feel safe and there’s fucking spirits here. No thank you.” 

“I’ll keep you safe, don’t worry,” Seth replied. You raised your eyebrow at him.

“Oh what, Ghost Bait’s gonna protect me? No thanks, I’ll just smoke the sage.”

“Ouch, damn, alright. Fuck me, I guess.”

“Damn, roasting him back here. Colby how do you feel about this place?” Sam turned the camera forward to the driver's seat, missing Seth’s pout and your finger heart to apologize for the joke. It was all in good fun and both of you knew that. It was funny to play it up for the camera.

Two minutes away from the house, Sam pulled out the camera again. It felt like you were almost out in the middle of nowhere, even though town was less than half an hour down the road. The property sat on 15 acres of land, which was mostly forest save for the few acres that were cleared out for the house and yard. What was once farmland on the south side of the property had overgrown and been reclaimed by nature, though it was still obviously used for farming at some point. As soon as the house was in sight, everyone let out their excitement for the camera.

The house was beautiful, even in its decaying state. Nobody had dared to actually live there since the 1890s, and it sat abandoned until the 1970s, when it was taken over for paranormal research. Many investigators had come through the place, and unfortunately in the early days of it being open to the public, many frauds had come through. It had been closed again in 1994, and only reopened by approved booking only since 2014. 

The house was three stories, in an almost Victorian style, with a white exterior and a deep green trim. Large windows covered a rounded section on the northeast corner of the house. Even with the peeling paint, it still held a certain elegance. Your jaw dropped at the sight.

“There’s a fucking wrap around porch are you shitting me?!” you exclaimed, admiring the architecture as Colby drove slowly closer. 

“This place is sick, dude. The architecture is amazing,” Seth commented.

“Haunted or not, I’d kill to live in a house like this. Let’s just move in and pretend there’s no ghosts,” you joked. Something clicked in Sam and Colby’s minds the longer they looked at it.

“Doesn’t it feel a bit like the Winchester Mystery house? Just a bit?”

“I was just thinking that, yea. A little bit, like just the style sorta…” 

As Sam and Colby continued talking to the camera, your eyes drifted up to a balcony on the third story, just barely visible from the front of the house. The railing matched the deep green trim of the house, and three large windows lined the wall behind it. You couldn’t figure out why it intrigued you so much. It was just a balcony, though you were sure the view over the north side of the property was amazing You hadn’t even noticed that the car had stopped until Colby opened the door to the back seat. 

“You comin’? We can take a minute here if you’re too nervous.”

“No I’m good, just spacing out a bit. I may need to crack open a RedBull already.”

“Don’t drink it all just yet. We’ve got a long night ahead of us. Come on, help me grab the equipment and we’ll head inside.”

Sam broke the news that the guide was running late, but they had told him where they kept a hidden key, so the four of you let yourselves in and decided where to set up home base for the night. Sunset wasn’t for another hour, so none of the rooms on the first floor felt very spooky just yet. You decided the living room felt the best, and everyone got to work checking batteries and equipment. 

“I’m gonna go wander around for a bit, see if I can find the bathrooms in this place,” you announced, having finished helping Sam sort out batteries and making sure your own camera was fully charged.

“Dpn’t fall in,” Seth joked as he messed with the settings on his camera. You flipped him off and wandered towards the staircase, shaking your head as the boys laughed behind you.

“Hey Y/N!” Sam called out.

“Yeah?”

“Guide should be here in about 20 minutes, make sure to get back down here by then!”

“I will!”

The house seemed fairly well preserved, though you assumed it had been at least a bit fixed up since the 90s. The winding staircase going up the entirety of the home seemed a bit too sturdy for its age. There was a large room on the second floor that looked to be a study or small library, with dust covered books lining the walls. There were two decent sized bedrooms on that floor as well, and two bathrooms, which you took a dutiful mental note of. 

The third floor was fairly similar, but with three bedrooms, and instead of a study there was a room that you presumed was a sort of living room area. There were gorgeous antique couches and rugs, mostly free of dust. Curtains, strangely, only lined two large windows on the east side of the room The windows on the north side were very bare, as was the door next to it. The door leading outside to the balcony. You walked towards the door, using a fair amount of force to nudge it open. It swung outwards, and the light breeze cooled your face as you stepped out. 

The view was beautiful, just as you had anticipated. You could smell the fresh air as it blew by you, feel the chill on your cheeks. You could almost imagine yourself laying in the large grass yard at night, listening to crickets and staring up at the stars. You told yourself you had to come back here once the sun went down, even for a five second glance at the cosmos. There was bound to be almost no light pollution, and you’d definitely need some pictures. 

The wood of the railing felt rough against your fingers, almost bumpy as you pulled yourself closer to it. You hadn’t quite realized how high up you were until you looked down. You stretched up to your toes to get a better feel for the height and then…something changed. Something felt different the moment you looked as far down as you could manage. Your hands gripped the railing, but somehow you felt oddly at peace. You couldn’t move your gaze from its downward position, but you didn’t want to anyways. You let your eyes unfocus, and you took a deep breath. Something about this view felt so… final. Your ears were ringing.

Normally you steered clear of heights, too afraid of your own thoughts and impulses to allow yourself near them. In this moment, it wasn’t the same. You welcomed it, whether by choice or not, you welcomed the feelings that were coming to the surface. You focused on the view. The changing view. It was changing…

A hand on your shoulder snapped you from your stupor, your head whipping in the direction of the sensation. Seth looked at you, wide eyed and confused. Your ears stopped ringing. 

“Are you good? I’ve been calling your name for a solid minute here. Did you see something?” You blinked, risking a glance back out over the trees.

“Uh, no, no. It’s just really pretty out here. Admittedly I did space out a bit, but I’ve just been looking,” you said, still unsure of what just happened. 

“I thought you were afraid of heights, why the hell were you looking down like that?”

“I don’t know, just… just looking around, honestly.”

“Well the guide got here ten minutes ago, I’ve been looking for you. Let’s head downstairs and get you an energy drink on the way.”

“Yea… you know what, I’ll meet you down there. I just want to get some pictures really quickly.”

“You left your camera downstairs. Are you positive you’re okay? You seem a bit out of it.”

“I’m fine Seth. I just want another minute.”

“Okay no, we’re going. You’re acting weird and I don’t want this to be some ‘call of the void’ shit. Let’s go.” His hand once again made its way to your arm, but you resisted his pull. You didn’t mean to, you fully intended to listen and go with him, but your body decided otherwise. “Y/N, you’re starting to freak me out.” Another arm planted itself around your waist, and you were brought inside. The moment you passed through the doorway, the pull you were feeling was gone. “You wanna tell me what the fuck that was about?”

“I don’t- I think I’m just nervous to be in here. You know how I am about houses.”

“We’re safe, we’re gonna sage as soon as the guide leaves. If anything goes sideways, we’ll leave, alright? Let’s get downstairs. They’re waiting for us.”

~*~*~*~

Marsha had a very captivating way of telling stories. You had heard plenty of guides tell their stories about their paranormal experiences and the lore of the locations, but she had done a good job of keeping your interest and making the stories seem just as scary as they actually were.

“Wait, so Edwin, the father, cheated of Gwendolyn with six different women, and then when she found out, she shot him in the cellar, went upstairs, locked all four kids in one of the bedrooms, set them on fire, and then killed herself?” Colby attempted to recap the story that she had just told. He was in a chair next to her, Sam holding the camera standing across from Colby. You and Seth were spread on on a couch across from her, listening intently. Your legs were halfway across the couch, knees bent slightly so as not to jab Seth in the leg with your boot. He leaned forward as Colby spoke, elbows meeting his knees and hands coming up to cover his mouth in shock.

“Yea, you’ve got it just about right there,” Marsha replied nodding. Sam chimed in with his own question from behind the camera. 

“So, what would you say are the most active areas of the house?”

“Most people that come through here say that the cellar, the dining room, the room where the kids died, and the balcony up on the top floor are the most active. You get a lot of stuff happening there. Some people hear stuff, some even smell stuff, and your equipment should be pretty responsive in those areas as well.”

“What’s significant about the dining room and the balcony?” Seth asked.

“Well people have claimed to hear a number of things in the dining room, whether its parties or Edwin and Gwendolyn arguing and throwing things at each other. We’ve even come in to see some of the dinnerware smashed when nobody had been inside for three days. The balcony is where Gwendolyn jumped off and killed herself. Y’all should be careful up there.”

“Hold on, she jumped? I read that she shot herself or drank poison or something. I didn’t see anything about her jumping to her death.”

“People used to think it was something else because of a fake medium that came through here in the 70s or 80s, but we’ve learned the truth since. By the way, if any of you struggle with depression, if you self-harm or think about suicide at all, I'd advise you don’t set foot on that balcony. It affects people that have that kind of thing bad enough.”

“How does it affect people?” You finally speak up, trying your best to keep your voice and expression one of genuine curiosity. You didn’t want the dread to show. You hoped she would say anything but what she was about to say.

“Well nobody’s thrown themselves off or anything, but it definitely picks up on those feelings and seems to amplify them. We’ve had a few guests and mediums tell us that they felt what Gwendolyn probably felt before she jumped. They said they felt rooted to the spot staring off that balcony, like they couldn’t move. They didn’t say they were scared when it happened, but they felt like they needed to be there, and they thought about jumping even though they couldn’t move. It’s only ever been people that hurt themselves or are already thinking about suicide, as far as we’re aware. So now we warn everyone about that. No depressed people on the balcony, we don’t need any more ghosts,” she explained, adding a small laugh to her final sentence. 

You looked at the camera, feigning a surprised face. You could feel Seth’s eyes on you, but you couldn’t look at him. Your cheeks felt hotter than they had a moment before. He had connected dots that you had hoped he would never connect, and now you couldn’t look at your best friend. You all thanked her, and you tried to be casual about your goodbyes. The front door clicked shut behind her. Sam and Colby went to gather equipment for the first investigation, leaving you and Seth alone in the living room. 

“Tell me what happened on the balcony wasn’t what she was just talking about.” There was a faint shake in his voice, as if he was scared of what you might say. He stood behind the couch now, a few feet from where you were still seated, eyes boring a hole into the back of your neck. You tried to think of a quick lie. 

“It wasn’t. I genuinely went up there to get pictures,”. You claimed. You shifted sideways on the couch. You were still too nervous to look at him directly, but you wanted to acknowledge him.

“Without your camera? With the heights? Y/N, you’ve always asked me to get the pictures that are anywhere near any sort of drop, even with guardrails and shit. You understand why I don’t believe you, right?”

“I am begging you to believe me, Seth. When have I ever shown signs of being depressed? I’m fine!”

You weren’t fine, and up until this moment Seth believed you every time those words left your mouth. You had developed quite the skill for hiding your issues, even from the people closest to you. Your mental health had been getting worse and worse, finally devolving into its current tragic state only a few months ago. You were so scared at first that they would spot the wounds on your wrists and hips immediately, but you had no such fear anymore. You had been hiding too well to worry up until now. 

You never wanted him to know, never wanted any of them to know. You didn’t want to bother them with this when they had their own lives to live and personal stuff to deal with. You didn’t want to hear the anger in their voices if they ever found out, didn’t want them to think you were weak or pathetic, but you couldn’t hide it anymore. Not from him.

“Please just tell me the truth. You don’t have to tell me how bad it is, but you need to tell me if it is bad, because not only am I incredibly scared that you haven’t told anyone about this, but this is also about your safety right now. If you’re- fuck, Y/N/N, if you're hurting yourself or thinking about killing yourself, we can’t go anywhere near the third floor. I might just take you home because I don’t want to risk this. Please just tell me nothing's wrong because I don’t want to believe what I’m hearing.” His voice was clearly cracking now, and you felt a pain in your chest every time you heard it.

 As you finally turned to look at him, your hear shattered. Seth didn’t cry often, but the tear tracks lining both his cheeks were so obvious. More tears spilled from his eyes as you looked at him, the look in his eyes a silent plea for you to convince him that he doesn’t have to worry about you. You felt so guilty seeing him like this. 

“Whoa, what’s wrong? Seth, what happened?” Sam’s voice came from behind you. You sighed and shook your head at Seth, whose eyes still hadn’t looked away from you. It was bad enough he knew; you didn’t want to drag anyone else into this. A beat of silence passed before he spoke. 

“Y/N can’t go near the balcony,” Seth said simply, allowing the others to figure out what he meant.

“Actually? Like Y/N… fuck, really?”

You closed your eyes in defeat, resting your head in your hands. The couch cushion dipped next to you as a hand was gently placed on your shoulder. Your knees drew closer to your chest. You hoped that, somehow, if you curled up and closed your eyes, this would just go away. 

“Look, we’re not gonna make you do anything like that, especially if it’ll affect you negatively. Even if I’m assuming wrong here, which frankly I hope I am, and it’s just the heights that are freaking you out-“

“It’s not the fucking heights, Colby. It’s not- they were on that fucking balcony earlier before the guide showed up, staring at the fucking ground. I had to physically drag them inside because they wouldn’t come in when I asked. It only fucking affects people who- God damn it. It’s already affected them and I want to get them the fuck out of this house,” Seth interjected. He was pacing now, picking at the sleeves of his flannel. You had never seen him this freaked out by anything. Colby’s hand moved from your shoulder to your back. You still didn’t want to look anyone in the eye, opting to peek through the gap between your knees to look around the room. 

“I-… I don’t know how long you’ve been feeling like this, and I do think we should talk about it at some point because trust me, its really important to talk to people about this stuff, but I kinda agree with Seth that you should probably sit this one out.” You whipped your head up and jumped from the couch, moving yourself across the room from everyone.

“No, for god's sake I’m a grown adult. I can make these decisions for myself. Put me on a leash if it’ll make you feel safer but I’m not leaving. I’ve been wanting to come here for months. Can we talk about this after we investigate, please? I’m not missing out on an investigation because you guys are overprotective. I’ll be fine.”

The silence that followed your words was tense. Sam and Colby looked back and forth between everyone, but you and Seth just stared directly at each other. The gears were turning in both of your heads, deciding what to do or say from here. 

“The millisecond you feel like you want to go up there you tell someone. Immediately. You can’t go anywhere alone, no solos. I’m not even gonna give you the luxury of pissing by yourself while we’re here. Stick with us at all times, hold my hand, whatever you need to do to stay away from that balcony. I will handcuff us together, I swear to God. I hate this but if you stay in my sight I’ll deal,” Seth rambled, stepping closer to you. 

You knew damn well that he would absolutely physically attach himself to you if he thought it was necessary. You also knew that there was no escaping the inevitable conversation that you really didn’t want to have. The investigation gave you time to prepare, or more favorably, give them a chance to forget that you’re not okay. As much as you wanted to go back to the balcony, you knew that realistically, they wouldn’t let you, which was probably for the best. Your arms crossed themselves over your chest. 

“Fine, fine. As long as I get to stay. Where’s our first stop here?”

~*~*~*~

True to his word, Seth did not leave your side the entire night. Even when he went under for an Estes session, he kept a hand on your knee, and kept a tight grip on your ankle when you went under later in the night. The higher in the house you got, the more you could feel the pull. Your name had come up a few times during the night, usually followed by ‘follow’ or ‘up’, which didn’t sit well with any of the boys. If the cameras weren’t such a constant presence, he would’ve had a firm grip on your waist, but instead he opted for the bottom of your shirt and your belt loops so the cameras wouldn’t pick up so much of the constant touch. You wanted to be annoyed, but you couldn’t exactly complain about having him so close for hours at a time.

The only place left was the balcony. The boys seem in consensus that Sam and Colby would investigate out there, and you and Seth would take one last crack at the dining room. You, however, had another idea.

“Can you give me the courtesy of hearing me out on an idea real quick? I know none of you like it, but I think we all know the best evidence we could get on that balcony is if I’m out there. It would- don’t look at me like that, I’m right. I’m not gonna jump or anything. Look, I was feeling something when I was out there earlier, I was seeing things, but Seth pulled me back before I could figure out what it was. I know my limits, just trust me,” you pleaded. 

“I still don’t think it’s a good idea for you to be out there. Even if there wasn’t a risk to your safety, this could trigger you or something. I just don’t think that’s worth the risk,” Colby argued. You looked to Sam for help, but you knew he agreed with Colby. “Besides, if people know the lore and then see you being affected by this, they’re gonna do the math. I mean, is that really something you want fans to know?”

“Fuck the fans and frankly, fuck the cameras. You know I rarely feel stuff like this during investigations. This is real, man. I was drawn to it before I even knew what happened out there. I wasn’t even trying to learn anything, I had zero intentions besides exploring the house, and it was that strong? We can't just ignore that. This will be good evidence and you know it, even if it’s just for ourselves.”

“I fucking hate this,” Seth mumbled, pulling you closer to him. “I’ll let you out there on two conditions. One, that I hold onto you the entire goddamn time we’re out there, and two, we have this conversation right after we finish, out in the yard. As much as I want to do it the second the cameras are off, I don’t want anything in this house feeding off of that energy.”

“You’ve been holding me this entire time, I wouldn’t expect any less right now. Yard would be smart… I just don’t want to talk about it at all. I’d rather pretend everything’s normal but you’re not gonna let that slide.”

“Well it isn’t normal, and we’re gonna address it. Now, do you want me to hold your hand or what? What’s the plan out there?”

“Estes? I can go under and hold the railing. I feel like that would be at least a decent trigger, give us some good results. If nothing else, I can just stand there for a bit and tell you what happens. It honestly felt like scrying just without the mirrors,” you suggested. 

“This is insane, I can’t believe you want to do this,” Sam said. He handed you the blindfold. 

“You spent the night in the conjuring basement Sam, you can’t say shit.”

“Fair.”

~*~*~*~

“Okay guys, we are about to do something… unusual for our last investigation tonight. This balcony is said to have a weird energy about it, and Y/N thinks they can tap into it. Now, even though our guide said there was no real safety issue up here, we’re still gonna be as careful as possible, so Seth is gonna hold onto Y/N while they go under for one final Estes session,” Sam explained to the camera. He pointed it towards you, already pressed up to the railing with Seth’s arms firmly around you. You slipped the blindfold and headphones over your ears, and focused on the static. The boys started with their questions.

“Gwendolyn, are you here with us?”

“Me. Hello.”

“Hi Gwendolyn. We just want to ask you a few questions. We mean you no harm, we just want to communicate and tell people your story. Can you tell us how you died?”

“Husband.”

“Husband… there is that theory that Edwin actually killed her and that he was the one that set the fires, and then killed himself in the cellar out of grief. Do you think-“

“No. No.”

“No, so you did kill yourself?”

“That’s correct.”

“Gwendolyn, why do you draw people to this spot? Do you want them to know how you felt when you died?”

“Feeling. It hurts. Can’t understand.”

“We’re so sorry that you had to go through that. You didn’t deserve for your husband to treat you like that.”

“Why did you kill your children, Gwendolyn?”

“Don’t talk about-… fuck you.”

“Damn, she does not want to talk about that.”

“Leave me alone. I’m going.”

“Where are you going?”

“Down. Down.”

“We want to ask you a few more questions, is that okay?”

“Deserve this. Nobody loves-… not worth anything.”

“That’s not true. You didn’t deserve wha happened to you. We’re so sorry you didn’t have a happier life.”

“Taking them with me.”

“Taking your kids with you?”

“Let go. Off. Borden. Go away.”

“Oh fuck no, We’re ending this.”

“Y/N. With me. Jump.”

Seth yanked you back from the railing as Colby pulled the headphones and spirit box away from you. You were drained all of the sudden, feeling a bit shaky and dizzy. Normally you needed to be under much longer for it to get to you, but this session really took it out of you, physically and emotionally. You didn’t even know what you had been talking about but you didn’t feel fantastic. He pulled the blindfold off your face when you didn’t move to take it off.

“That was fucked up. We’re never doing anything like that again.”

“What was the conversation? Did it make sense?”

“We’ll talk about it downstairs. I don’t want us to be up here anymore, but it made perfect sense. That was terrifying.”

~*~*~*~

The grass was soft, having benefitted from the recent week of rainfall. The stars littered the sky above you, giving you something to focus on other than the heavy silence between you and Seth. Sam and Colby were packing up the last of the equipment in the house, giving the two of you space to talk.

“It was like… the feelings weren’t mine. I fully felt them but it wasn’t coming from me? It’s hard to explain. It was intense.”

“We need to talk about your feelings. You keep dodging the issue and talking about Estes. You agreed we would talk.” You crossed your arms over your chest in an attempt to tamp down the nerves buzzing behind your rib cage. 

“I know, I know. Fuck, I never wanted anyone to know. I don’t even know how to talk about it. I don’t want to make this your problem.”

“You’re not making it my problem, it isn’t a problem in the first place. It is, however, my business when the people I love are hurting and I have the ability to do something about it. Just… don’t worry about phrasing it correctly, just say whatever comes to mind and we’ll make sense of it together. How long have you felt like this? How bad is it?”

“Since I was twelve, in one form or another. It got worse as I got older, and this is the worst its ever been. I uh… I do cut and I think about suicide a lot. It’s passive though, I don’t have a plan or anything. I just… I’ve tried so many things. Therapy has never helped, my medication does fuck all, all my coping mechanisms stop being effective eventually. It just feels so helpless, like I’m never gonna get better, so why would I put my energy into trying? Every therapist I’ve had has told me that it’s basically managing my symptoms and keeping afloat at this point anyways and I don’t want to fucking- I don’t want to spend the rest of my life keeping afloat. It’s fucking miserable.”

“Have you ever talked to anyone besides a therapist?”

“No, I hate bothering people with this shit. I feel like I’m needy enough without it.”

“You’re not needy, and this doesn’t classify as bothering anyone. It’s using your support system. We’re your friends. We love you. We’re here for you, so let us be here for you.”

“You shouldn’t have to fucking babysit someone that you think is pathetic! You deserve better than putting up with my bullshit! Fuck, I should’ve never come here! This conversation is over until you can get it through your thick fucking skull-“

“Whoa, hey! Y/N, stop!” Seth grabbed your shoulders, stopping your attempt to walk away from him. “What the fuck are you talking about? I never said you were pathetic, and you aren’t. Is this just the depression talking or has someone actually made you feel like you’re pathetic for feeling like this because I swear to fucking god-“

“Do you actually love me? Do you enjoy being friends with me or are you just tolerating me because I work with Sam and Colby? Please just fucking be honest with me. I’d rather have my feelings hurt now than have you put up with me out of obligation. I know I’m not worth the attention or energy most of the time. I know I’m annoying and add nothing to investigations. I add nothing to anyone’s lives and I’m just sort of here, but I just need someone to fucking say it to my face because I’ll happily leave if it’ll make your lives easier.”

You were almost shaking now, hot tears spilling down both of your faces. The heartbroken look on his face sent a pain shooting through your chest. You had made him feel like this and you hated yourself all the more for it.

“I have never, ever felt that way about you. You have no idea the amount of times I turn to say something to you during investigations and get sad when you’re not there. You’re the first person I run to when I have something cool to say. I choose to use my attention and energy on you because I do love you. I wouldn’t crave your presence all the damn time if I didn’t love the fuck out of you. You are not pathetic. You are my favorite person on this god damn planet and I’d give my left leg if it meant you would stop hurting yourself.”

“…Seth?”

“Yeah?”

“You… can you promise me that nothing I do bothers you? I just feel like sometimes I ask for too much attention or I’m too touchy or something. The fans are gonna be all weird and shippy after this video comes out and if you’d rather they didn’t see that sort of thing it doesn’t have to go in the video. We can even stop all touches altogether if you’re uncomfortable with them thinking-“

“I’d rather get possessed than not be able to show you affection anymore. I don’t care what the fans think. They can mind their own damn business. We’ve always been touchy.”

“So… the fact that they’re gonna think we’re dating doesn’t bother you?” His hand drifted up from your shoulder to your cheek, somehow colder than the air around you. You leaned into the touch gratefully.

“Not the worst idea they could have. Actually I kinda don’t mind the thought of it. Our friends are always teasing us for being a married couple. I don’t see how us dating would be much different than things are now. We’re almost there, we just haven’t managed to kiss yet,” he laughed. You we’re hoping, with every fiber of your being, that his laugh was more nervous than joking. You gently placed your hands on his chest and pulled lightly at the edges of his flannel.

“We haven’t kissed because you’d probably regret it,” you mumbled. The buttons on his shirt suddenly became very interesting to you. 

“Why the fuck would I regret it?”

“I’m not exactly worth bragging about. Besides, now that you know that I’m all kinds of fu-“

His lips were warm on yours. The taste of tears lingered in the corners of your mouths. Your grip on his shirt tightened in a desperate attempt to pull him closer. You almost wanted to push him away for his own sake, but the hand that gripped your waist and pulled you flush against him erased that thought entirely. As soft and cautious as it started, the years of both of you wanting exactly this came rushing forth and pushed you both into desperation for one another. The kiss got deeper, fingers pressed harder and wandered further, any care for breathing went out the window. You were the first to pull away, dizzy and overwhelmed.

“There’s no shot in hell I’ll ever regret that,” Seth breathed, smile creeping across his lips as he looked at your breathless state. The butterflies in your stomach hit full force when his thumb brushed across your kiss bruised lips. 

“You just… would it be weird to admit I’ve wanted to do that for a while?” You laughed. He laughed with you, taking your hand in his. 

“So have I. You’re extra stuck with me now because I definitely want to do that a lot more.” He pressed his lips softly to your palm, right above your wrist. “And your issues aren’t gonna scare me away. We’re in this together whether you like it or not. You can’t get rid of me that easily.”

Tears welled in your eyes once again. The small gesture made your heart flutter, even more so when he kissed your wrist again, holding it longer this time. 

“It’s bad, Seth. It’s really bad and I don’t know how to fix it.”

“Then I’ll make it my first official duty as your boyfriend to at least distract you from it, maybe with more kissing.” You laughed at that, pawing the tears from your eyes. He wiped at hem as well, catching the stray ones that you missed. You pulled him closer to you, hugging him as tight as your arms would allow. 

“You guys good out here?” Colby’s voice carried over from the front of the house. He and Sam were lugging bags of equipment, finally ready to leave the location. Seth turned towards them with his arms still firmly around you.

“Yea we’re chilin’. We fuckin’ kissed, bro!” He shouted. You laughed and buried your face in his chest, smacking him lightly.

“Fucking finally! Ready to head out then?”

“Totally, we’ll be right there!”

Two fingers pushed your chin up so your eyes met his. He placed a kiss on your forehead, and another quick one on your lips. You wanted it to continue but you knew you had a long drive ahead of you, so you took his hand and walked with him to the car.

“Before we head out, do you want to talk about the self-harm because I’m still worried,” Sam asked. He leaned against the driver’s side door, keys dangling from his hand. Seth spoke before you could figure out what to say.

“I think they’ll be okay. We’re gonna work on it together, right?”

“Yea… yea we are. Together.”

[dystopianam]

Modern Veronaville Roleplay: THE PLOT

I really don't know how to start this post, but @gingersimmerr and I besides the historical (1300+ circa) R&J based roleplay (TS2 storyline version with VV sims), also have a modern AU roleplay set in 2023 and...I feel like talking about it because yes.

I start by saying that it is very stereotyped and clichéd, it's a clear modern version of R&J, very similar to the storyline of the game but with a few more twists and with a little Life Is Strange vibes. (P.S: geologically speaking, many elements are invented, we are both Italian so we don't have enough accurate information about America)

AND, is full of headcanons, so not every character is 100% accurate to its original version. With that said, let's get started.

THE PLOT

Somewhere in America, there is a big town called Veronaville. The town has a style that is a mix between modern white villas and Mediterranean style villas. It's like a little Italy, but very few real Italians live there. Most people choose to live there just for the vibes.

Two young businessmen in theyr 20s have nearly control of the entire city, having bought practically everything in there. The two are so powerful that even the mayor of the city itself seems to have much less authority than the influence of them both.

They are Consort Thebe, a British man, and Patrizio Monty, an Italian man.

You just have to imagine them like the Landgraabs and the Prescott (of LIS).

Consort Thebe is from a royal family, Patrizio Monty is from a noble family instead.

Business is booming, the two are best friends and therefore celebrate every victory together... but something suddenly changes everything. An x reason causes a strong fight between the two.

The two of them split up, the city is literally divided between the Monty's and the Thebe's. For years, the two of them never meet again.

Many, many years later, the two meet by pure chance when both decide they want to buy the same business.

They are both married now. Patrizio married Isabella Pantalone, Consort married Contessa Capp, renouncing his surname (Thebe) for his wife's matriarchal family.

Now, they are elders and have "children" too (adult children!)

Patrizio have three children: Claudio, Antonio and Bianca.

Consort have four children: Goneril, Regan, Kent and Cordelia.

Both are waiting to become grandparents for the first time. Their daughters-in-law and daughters are expecting their first children.

Olivia, Claudio's wife, is pregnant with Mercutio.

Hero, Antonio's wife, is pregnant with Viola.

Cordelia is pregnant with Tybalt.

Tybalt is born. Mercutio is born, Viola, Romeo, Miranda, Juliette and Hermia are born.

This group of children plays together for many years, while their grandparents are still friends.

But a tragedy suddenly strikes the Capp family: Patrizio Monty, out of a hidden grudge, sets fire to a business building which he and Consort had purchased jointly. His excuse was that he wanted to collect a very big insurance, but unaware that the building was not empty, that day, Cordelia Capp, Consort's youngest daughter, lost her life in the flames.

The Capps are rightly in mourning. The Montys are reported to the police by the Capps and taken to court for arson and the murder of Cordelia Capp, but having no evidence, Patrizio is freed from all charges.

The two families split up. Now they despise each other to death. The children are separated.

It's been about 10 years. The children have now grown up and with them the resentment and feud between the two families.

The Capps attend a private school financed by themselves: the Stratford Academy, the Montys attend public school, but Patrizio wants a better education for his grandchildren and so, reluctantly (because the school is financed by the Capps) he is forced to enroll them to the only prestigious institute in the area.

It's a September evening. Patrizio and Isabella invited their entire family to have dinner together and celebrate their grandchildren's entry into private school. But there's a problem: everyone arrives... except Viola.

Hours pass. But it's getting terribly late, Viola doesn't even answer her cell phone. Mercutio and Romeo go to look for her, but only find her cell phone fallen in the alley that she would have taken to her grandparents' house. This means that Viola was coming but...something happened in the meantime.

Everyone at home is terrified. Patrizio doesn't want to call the police because that would draw too much attention to his family. Hero is tired of listening to her father-in-law's stupid reasons and so she calls the police.

After a couple of investigations, following some testimonies, the police are certain: Viola was kidnapped by someone.

Do you want to know the characters infos in another post...?

[lizlives]

This is going to be a very different kind of thing than I usually do, but randomly I've been thinking about how much Dreadnought (from the Nemesis book series) would be a good opponent for a death battle style matchup against Homelander. Unlike Omni-Man or Superman, she's not clearly stronger while still having some things that could potentially be a boon for her such as her lattice ability. Anyways, I randomly decided that I would use their respective r/respect threads on reddit and try and construct evidence based research on who I think would win in a fight. Here is what I've put together! The opening introductions are sampled directly from the original respect threads so credit to them, the rest is written by me. Also, I'm going by the Amazon version of Homelander for this obviously.

“I see a world that is terrified of me. Terrified of someone who would reject manhood. Terrified of a girl who knows who she is and what she’s capable of. They are small, and they are weak, and they will not hurt me ever again. My name is Danielle Tozer. I am a girl. No one is strong enough to take that from me anymore.”

Danielle "Danny" Tozer led a miserable life as a closeted transgender teenage girl in an abusive household. That is, until one day she witnessed the world-renowned hero Dreadnought suffer a fatal attack from a supervillain. With only moments to live and knowing that the world needed his powers, Dreadnought bestowed his powers unto Danielle, granting her not only his superhuman abilities and senses, but also, as a side effect, molding her body into it's ideal form. Reborn, Danielle must learn to accept the weight of the responsibility of not only being the fourth incarnation of Dreadnaught, the attention of being the most publicly visible transgender superhero, but also the challenges involving the presence of the Nemesis and its effect on the world.

"I don't make mistakes. I'm not "just like the rest of you." I'm stronger. I'm smarter. I'm better. I am better. I'm not some weak-kneed fucking crybaby that goes around fucking apologizing all the time. And why the fuck would you want me to be? All my life, people have tried to control me. My whole life. Rich people, powerful people have tried to muzzle me, cancel me, keep me impotent and obedient, like I'm a fucking puppet. You know what? It worked. Because I allowed it to work. And guess what. If they can control me, then you can bet your ass they can control you. They already do. You just don't realize it. I'm done. I am done apologizing. I am done being persecuted for my strength. You people should be thanking Christ that I am who and what I am, because you need me. You need me to save you. You do. I am the only one who possibly can. You're not the real heroes. I'm the real hero. I'm the real hero."

Homelander is the home grown All-American Hero represented by the Vought American Corporation. He is the leader of the Seven and considered the most powerful Supe on Earth. He's the result of a refined compound V fetus that became Vought's first successful superhero. He represents nothing more than deceit, profit and the Vought American Way!

Striking strength: Dreadnought has more control of her strength than Homelander it seems, able to move her strength up and down depending on how careful she wants to be. Homelander more frequently aims to disembowel his enemies with gut punches and does so with general ease, while Danny frequently aims to break bones and does so with relative ease. At near max power she's ripping into heavily armored war machines and flying through box cars strong enough to rip them completely apart. Most of Homelander's striking strength achievements amount to either trading blows with people of near power to him such as Soldier Boy, Black Noir and Butcher on temp-v, or immediately killing and disemboweling regular humans, usually killing them instantly. The only other notable strength achievement he has is listed as "damaging" a concrete wall, a metal fuel container, then a larger metal fuel container, but this doesn't seem like much compared to Danny's ability to rip into reinforced metal, albeit sometimes with some effort, and with much greater control and handling. For this, I give the win to Dreadnought.

Lifting/Throwing: Notably, Danny is able to save a plane with some effort only a few days after getting her powers, though the plane nearly falls apart in the process. The end result was minimal casualties. Homelander is faced with a near identical situation and doesn't even try to save it, likely due to fear of optics and damage to his brand from survivors, but potentially suggesting a lack of genuine ability. Danny has claimed she can bench press a school bus and Homelander seems to be able to escape after being crushed by one, making it kinda a draw in that particular case. Most of the rest of Homelander's achievements amount to being able to throw small objects long distances and being able to lift other people of a similar power level off of him. Meanwhile Danny is able to redirect and lift satellites, jets, train cars, and mechs with a great deal of effort depending. For this, I give the win to Dreadnought.

Blunt Force Durability: Most feats Homelander has shown show him able to withstand a great deal of damage from similar opponents. Danny has had her bones broken by opponents at least as strong as her if not stronger but not completely folded. She takes hits from Red Steel a super on par with her in strength. Sense we've already established she's at least a bit more strong than Homelander at least in terms of her striking ability, I'd say that gives her at least a slight edge in durability? It's a bit hard to say, Homelander rarely ever shows any sort of affect or damage from his fights, but Danny does, and yet she's still able to generally to take most of it to a seemingly greater degree than he does? It really comes down to which you think is better. A person facing smaller threats and barely flinching, or a person facing bigger threats and flinching but not completely folding. It's a bit weird, but my intuition is for Danny due to facing stronger opponents and more regularly.

Piercing Durability: Both seemingly can survive point blank bullets with minimal feeling. Homelander specifically seems to have no feeling at all when faced with bullet damage, while Danny mentions feeling some discomfort, albeit minimal. A person did attempt to slice her neck at but this effort failed, however her ability to withstand piercing is tied to her lattice ability, meaning she can switch it off. This could be a slight advantage to Homelander given he seems to be incapable of receiving any damage regardless. For both of these reasons, I give the edge to Homelander.

Heat Durability: Danny is able to withstand beam sabers with some blistering afterwards, ignores flamethrowers, and endures atmospheric re-entry with some admitted risk. Homelander has taken Butcher's heat blasts and gotten up, was early on able to survive putting his hand in fire, and also was caught in a gas explosion that he escaped unharmed. Dreadnought is able to withstand heat damage with minimal damage while Homelander seems to be unharmed by any heat. Homelander wins this one.

Speed: Lots of specific numbers, but just based on what we've seen them do, either based on the compared speed of known jets or based on directly stated speed, both are capable of breaking the speed of sound, but Danny seems to just have higher speed numbers in general. She's also theoretically able to fly faster in areas with less wind-resistance. Also worth noting, she has dodged multiple laser beams in the past, only getting tagged a few times in the process, meaning dodging Homelander's single heat blasts might not be much of a problem for her. For this, Danny gets the upper hand I think.

Other: The lattice ability possessed by Danny seems to be much more advanced than Homelander's x-ray vision, able to see down to molecules, not to mention able to influence them at that level.

Conclusion: Homelander's main advantage in this fight might be his laser vision. Danny has been shown to be impacted by concentrated heat and some mild impact from piercing. Besides that she takes blunt force trauma decently well given her opponents and seems much stronger and faster than him overall. I would say this would be one of the most difficult fights of her life, but I think she would make it out on top due to the edge her lattice ability gives her with healing and molecular manipulation. If cornered, and this would absolutely be a desperate move, it might be theoretically possible to give him brain damage, as she was able to untangle one consciousness in someone's mind from another. That suggest some sort of ability to manipulate minds, if only to unravel them.

Also worth noting, there's a small precedent for Compound V still leaving someone's interior weak to damage (i.e. Translucent) but at one point Danny drinks enough cesium and strychnine to “light her up like Chernobyl”, and remains unaffected by it, suggesting her body is more densely protected while technically having weaknessess Homelander's less dense defense doesn't.

Ultimately, I would also say just her attitude makes her a strong contender. She regularly deals with opponents who are similarly obsessive and intimidating much like Homelander and are at least as strong as her and she seems generally unphased by them, only responding with more energy alot of the time. Homelander is going to rely on intimidation to an extent, something Danny is familar with. Not to mention, once she realizes he doesn't measure up to her in some key ways, this intimidation will work even less, thus giving her a psychological edge. Her bravado has a decent chance of throwing him off, especially the longer the fight goes on. Homelander being emotionally volatile makes him, well, more volatile, but it also makes him unbalanced and sloppy, something Danny could theoretically take advantage of. She has demonstrated in the past being able to make smart calculative decisions even when under immense pressure. Able to muster up the mental fortitude to heal a golf ball sized hole through her whole torso despite not being able to breath and struggling to retain consciousness. The same could not be said for Homelander, who is extremely easy to undermine emotionally if faced with any sort of genuine threat, even partially. For me, I say the winner is Dreadnought.

Overall, I would just really love to see what kind of verbal sparring these two would have. Righteous anger vs childish rage. Spirited passion vs insecure posturing. It would be so interesting just to see them interact. Also, read the Nemesis books! They're really good!

[x-enocyon]

Snippet *Sunday

Or, well. Technically snippet Monday now. Tagged by @bleumanouche, thank you Bleu!

No pressure tags: @druidgroves @hotwifeluigi @bigfan-fanfic

Grabbed this snippet from a scene in which Wes and Avery are 19 & 18 and in the aftermath of a falling out with each other. Both of them cope with their emotions poorly at this age. Avery does it more violently. Wes is the patron saint of repression. I have a lot of fun writing scenes while these two are younger because it really shows how much they've grown by the time they're 30.

And as always Wes belongs to @hotwifeluigi

And so Avery gets himself a shot. And another, and another, and another. 

The more Avery drinks the louder he gets, the louder he gets the more other bar patrons want to drink with him. It’s all jovial celebration but it’s a thinly veiled vicious cycle, smiles and laughter encourage poisoning the well. A cheap excuse to justify the means of self-medication, still, to everyone but Avery he’s having a lovely night. And who could blame them? It’s New Years, ain’t no threat in having a good time.

The momentum carries up to a finite point; Avery exists in a state of perpetually teetering over a ledge. All it takes is one nudge and he’ll tumble, push finds its shove when a man built like a bull decides faggot is a good way to describe the way Avery talks. 

One black eye, a busted lip and two sets of bloodied knuckles later, Avery finds himself on the curb outside. His saving grace was the firm belief that fighting dirty is fair game if an opponent really deserves it, dropping slurs in a bar meets that qualifier. They both got kicked out of the bar when it really came down to it, but Avery’s content with knowing that motherfucker took a boot heel to the balls. 

Avery spits to his side, saliva marbled with blood colors a small spot in the dirt. He grunts, sighs from behind his teeth and lifts a cigarette to his lips. The orange glow briefly fills the dark night air, Avery perks up when he hears the door open behind him. 

“What the hell were you thinkin’ pullin’ a stunt like that?” Even while drunker than a cow on a diet of fermented corn he’d recognize Wes’s voice. Oh, so now he can tolerate being near Avery. 

“Dude had it comin’,” Avery says with all the nonchalance in the world.

Wes stands over him with his hands on his hips. Avery tilts his head up and back to stare at him, he can’t help but smirk a little when he gets a good look at that pursed-lip, low-browed expression. He carries a similar cadence to a horse with his ears all pinned back. Careful, he might kick.

“How d’you figure he had it comin’? I watched the whole damn thing from the other side’a the bar, far as I know he mighta just looked atcha wrong and you took a swing,” Wes uses one hand to make frustrated, vague gestures as he talks, “Which, if I’m bein’ quite honest, Mr. Moreno, I wouldn’t put such a thing past you.”

Avery takes another slow inhale off his cigarette. Flicks the ashes into the dirt, mixing with his spit like gold flakes in resin. “Call me a faggot, get your teeth busted out. It’s as simple as that.”

“Oh,” Wes breathes as his expression cools to something a grade calmer. He stands there statuesque for a short spell, evidently unsure just what to say. He clears his throat and adds, “I guess it’s for the best then that you uh, you stood up for yourself.”

Standing over Avery while he’s sat there on the curb, Avery decides he should invite Wes to do anything other than loom. “Want a smoke?” He says as he pulls one from the pack he has in his coat pocket.

“No, that’s a’right,” Wes declines and Avery isn’t sure if the feeling cropping up in his chest immolates or if it’s so cold that it burns, somewhere in the back of his head he’d hoped Wes would sit with him out here. “I had somebody waitin’ for me back inside. Just wanted to see what’d happened with you.”

 Avery finds that he has nothing to say, silence lingers between them until Wes opens his mouth again.

“You plan on comin’ back in anytime?” Wes asks.

“Nope,” Avery responds simply, cigarette held up to his mouth.

“A’right. You make it back to the room safe then, okay?” Wes’s voice sounds so strained that Avery could almost mistake his tone for guilt. He makes it a few feet closer to the door before he pauses— again— hesitating seems to be a skill he’s gotten good at. “Want me to walk back with you?”

“Nope,” he lies through his teeth. 

[bringerofdeathandtheapocolypse]

So I've been on a Gajeel fic binge right now (It was originally a Fraxus one but then somewhere along the lone I picked up interest in Gajeel fics and changed course) and I was reading one fic and a little something jumped out to me. It was a fic that was set somewhere after the 7 year gap and in it mentioned Jet and Droy still not liking Gajeel. I'm here to argue why that isn't the case. (And also complain how we never actually get to see much of Gajeel being around them)

So def during Fantasia, they don't like Gajeel. That's obvious. I would say they start to change their view of him a little when they realise he was letting both them and Laxus beat him up with no pushback so that they wouldn't see him as a threat and would accept him as part of the guild along with him taking a pretty nasty hit to protect Levy despite already being in bad condition before hand (I do hope at some point if it ever came out what happened, that someone told Laxus off for that but if not, he did still get punished for his actions later) I wouldn't say they liked him but I think that's when they might have stopped being angry that he was there.

This is supported when around Tenrou, the only objections they have about Levy teaming up with Gajeel is that they weren't picked. We don't see them say anything about Gajeel potentially hurting her (Something the audience knows he won't do since he has used his own body to protect her from Laxus' lightning twice) And while sure that could have happened off screen, its not something we can confirm either since again, it isn't on screen.

After the 7 year time skip, they def seem to have forgiven Gajeel since we see them (once) go after Gajeel and Lily on a job and during Kotsh, they all seem fine with working together (Even if Lily and Levy are there as a kind of buffer) and don't appear to show any malice towards any of them (I will complain about Lily acting like Gajeel is a child earlier in the arc though because he is a grown man and if he decides he doesn't want to fight Laxus and doesn't show up by sunset then that's his business) I honestly can't remember exactly their reactions to Gajeel's fights in GMG since its been awhile since I've seen the arc in its entirety. I do remember that they were teamed up during Tartarous though but not much was shown there either.

But most definitely by the time Alveraz comes around, they are friends since when Gajeel "comes back from the dead" and starts defending Jet and Droy, Droy is telling Gajeel that he doesn't need to risk his life to save them, that they know he's been through a lot and that he should protect himself. Gajeel literally calls them his friends when he declines the offer to save himself and both Jet and Droy are happy at being called friends by Gajeel. They clearly at that point, like Gajeel and have forgiven him for what he did in PL.

The only sad thing about this is the lack of screentime they get together. Most of it involves Levy being there as like a buffer or the reason both Jet and Droy and Gajeel would be there which is kinda a shame because Levy wasn't the only one hurt by Gajeel. They were too. I wish we got to see some screentime of Jet and Droy being in a situation with Gajeel that didn't involve Levy because I like Gajeel being friends with them. Its sweet and a nice full circle for his character and gives Jet and Droy more than just being Levy's teammates.

Like maybe have Gajeel teach them self defence classes(Like a lot of people believe he did with Levy) so that they can defend themselves if someone were to ever surprise attack them again. I personally like the idea of him giving them knives made of his own metal (Something I headcanon he does for the people he cares about so that if they don't have magic at their disposal and are in a tight situation, they have a knife that won't break to most if any metals) but there are other options too.

This is just me giving out evidence to back up why Jet, Droy and Gajeel are friends and should both be portrayed as such and have been given more screentime. (I do hope we get to see their reactions to finding out Levy is expecting in 100 years quest and that they congratulate Gajeel too)

[cindrikat]

Randomly unlocked a core memory while I was at work and I can't stop thinking about it

When I was 11-12, I watched Mewtwo Strikes Back for the first time

I had watched other Pokemon movies already, but accidentally skipped over the very first one; loved Pokemon 2k at the time and enjoyed MSB just as much, but with an added bonus of brainstorming a crazy what if idea after I finished watching it

Around that time, I was also avidly watching DBZ Kai; and just so happened to watch MSB not very long after seeing Super Saiyan for the first time

So kid me came up with the idea of "What if instead of losing the will to fight after Ash gets turned to stone, Pikachu just fucking snaps?"

Memory is a bit hazy after that because I was too busy hyping myself up after remembering it, but having the knowledge I have now I think I have the perfect vision that kid me would be proud of-

So imagine this: Once Ash is petrified, Pikachu approaches him and cries as he tries to revive him like normal, then as Pikachu's tears are hitting the ground, lightning strikes around the area, striking more frequently and barely missing people and pokemon alike Once Pikachu turns to face Mewtwo, he looks pissed, tears still streaming down his face; Pikachu then shouts at the top of his lungs as a giant lightning bolt strikes him from the sky, a call back to the ending of S1E1 where he saves Ash from a flock of Spearow When the dust of the lightning strike clears, Pikachu is looking pretty different, having grown fangs and horns, his fur frizzed out and now colored a dark saturated red-orange and white, even his own electricity changed to be red instead of yellow Pikachu hasn't technically evolved, these changes are fleeting as evident by how he looks to be flickering between this new look and his normal self at first, but he plans to fight as much as he can while he can maintain that state

Basically what I'm describing is Pikachu almost becoming Gorochu, I always imagined Gorochu being part dark type too, so that'd be a big part of how he'd be giving Mewtwo a run for their money

Hell, I even thought about Gorochu being implemented as the final evolution of a regional variant Pichu/Pikachu evolution line where Pichu stays as a pure electric type, then gains dark after evolving into Pikachu

As far as abilities go for this line, they'd still have Static as their first ability and Lightning Rod as their hidden ability, but as for a secondary ability for Pichu and Pikachu, I feel like they could make good use out of Reckless especially if they use Volt Tackle, but for Gorochu, Reckless gets replaced by Sheer Force

I like to think Gorochu would get a signature move too in the form of what I'm calling Vengeance Bolt; it's a special electric type move with 65 base power with a chance to paralyze, and its power boosts based on how many teammates have fainted, gaining 15 more power per fainted ally, pair that with Sheer Force and it'll shred through most foes when it needs to most-- and I think it'd go so hard if this move referenced Goku's angry Kamehameha; Gorochu charging up all that electricity into their arm, the color of that electricity changing from yellow to deep red and blasting the opponent with it

Okay, crazy concept hyperfixation ramble over, but holy fuck I'd love to see Gorochu become real some day

[asoulofatlantis]

Imagine a time travel scenario where Shirley and Cedric's kid were sent to past (someone brought up time travelling kids on. A fanfic thread) how does randy during crossbell duology or cs3 react to the fact they have a kid in future (no spoilers)

(I wish I had any spoilers for a question like this XD)

This sounds like the plot of FireEmblem Awakening. The Trails world has gone into ruin because of an evil... uh... something and so the heroes AND antagonists as well as villains' children travel to the past to make their future better by saving their parents...

That WOULD be so much fun, seriously XD Imagine Lloyds son and Reans twins show up and EVERYONE is waiting for the moment they finally reveal who their mother is and they just don't? *lol* (But I am sure that one of Reans twins is blond and the other one has red eyes and SOMETHING about Lloyds son just looks like Elie but they never say it out loud, so, who knows?)

*achem* Sorry, but the idea is really interesting XD

But back to the topic at hand....

I found the timing you chose extremely interesting because pre CS4 Randy does not even know of any connection between Shirley and Cedric. I guess that at first, he wouldn't believe it. I mean, once again Orlandos have strong genes, so Shirley being the mother should be obvious from afar with that red hair but the freaking crown prince of Erebonia is the father? Never! He is supposed to become Emperor one day, he would never have a kid with someone from a dangerous Jeager-Corps like the Red Constellation. Or any Jeager-Corps really. Also... how would they know each other? Nah. There must be a mistake. I guess over time he would notice the advantages of the Arnor-Blood, which is apparently a shitload of Mana and strong spells. Maybe that Kid is even fighting with a Sword like Cedric instead of some crazy weapon like Shirley does. With that evidence and the kids word, how long can you deny it? I think maybe at first Randy would think Shirley got pregnant while drunk and just told the poor kid that Cedric was the father because it was just some random drunkard-dude that she can not even remember or something like this. I think when the realization hits that this was neither a lie nor a mistake he will be in total shock at first. Wondering how the freaking hell that happened... and why.

He will protect the child either way of course, even if it wasn't Shirleys child. It is a child after all. But it is also family to boot. And I guess the child being Cedrics will also make it a bigger reason to protect it, because freaking hell, if something happened to it, what will happen to Erebonia? (I mean Randy likely assumed it is a bastard but it could still end up an heir to the throne so better safe than sorry.)

So he will go through like some stages of anger (about the lie), shock (about it not being a lie), confusion (how and why that happened) and then reculant acceptance and with that an even stronger will to protect the child.

I could imagine in the beginning Randy considers preventing Shirley and Cedric from meeting or at least getting together in whatever shape or form but in the end he likes the kid and the kid might talk about its parent in a way that shows that they have grown in a way they might not have without the child (and each other) so he decides to let things happen the way they do, but still tries to save the future of whatever else that kid came to the past for.

[buckybarnesdiaries]

a piece of cake

© @jamesbrnes

bucky barnes x reader. ⎢ masterlist.

Something happens at Shuri's birthday party that leads to a heated fight.

word count: 3k words. (fuck, it worth every damn word)

warnings/tags: nsfw, +18!!! angry jealous sex, let's start there. unprotected sex, oral sex (face fucking and ridding), fingering, brief daddy!kink, brief praise!kink, language, cursing, handcuffing, mention of bodily fluids, and probably i'm forgetting something else, i just lost my mind. bucky being the cutest and loving man on earth at the end.

author notes: none of my stories contain reader’s body descriptions to be inclusive.

join the tag list here.

You had never been so quiet, but you knew that opening your mouth only could cause a storm inside the car, on your way back home. Believing you could have a pinch of luck, Bucky wouldn't notice that something was raving you mad since the moment you watched him letting another woman give him a spoon of cake. Straight to his mouth. You almost choked on your drink, talking to Shuri about how excited she was to celebrate her birthday in New York, when you witnessed the scene hearing their laughs and watching how they dared to touch his metal arm constantly. Your boyfriend was talking with some of his old friends from Wakanda, not even knowing he made friends there. He never said a word about it. Even so, they didn't have the right to flirt with him. Unless he didn't say anything about you.

But Bucky wasn't stupid. Or at least, not like you thought. Gazing you by the corners of his blue eyes, he was conscious that something was going wrong. He licked his upper lip briefly, slowly. He tasted the waters putting a hand on your thigh, which was your favorite gesture while he was driving, deriving with your fingers laced and him placing kisses on the back of your hand. But you didn't move an inch, still staring through the copilot's window with your elbow nailed there and your chin resting on your knuckles.

“What's wrong?”

“Nothing”.

Your passive tone and the lie as a response caused him to frown, pulling over the car to focus on you. He turned on his seat and placed a hand behind the headrest of yours.

“Spit it”.

You couldn't help but raise an eyebrow ironically, looking at him for a second. If he had to ask it was because he wasn't really seeing the dilemma there.

“I'm just tired and I wanna go home, James. That's all”.

James. James. You did it unconsciously, but he didn't take it as an innocent manner of calling him. Unexpressive, the soldier joined the highway driving faster than he used to. You had pissed him off, but it wasn't your problem. He had hurt your feelings with something he didn't give any importance to. The only thing you wanted was to take a shower, put on your comfier pajamas and go to sleep, probably you'd see tomorrow that situation differently than today and you could move on from your insecurities and the jealousy running through your veins.

You arrived at your apartment in record time, keeping the car inside the parking under the building. You removed the seat belt to wear your leather jacket and grab your purse on your feet, stepping out when you were ready. But Bucky stayed inside, just turning off the engine. He didn't have any intention of leaving it, maintaining his hands tightly gripped around the wheel. You ignored him as soon as you couldn't pretend you were just tired anymore. It was the first time something like that happened and you were having a strong desire to throw your guts up.

Three minutes later you were under the warm water with your forehead resting against the cold wall and your eyes closed. Maybe you were overreacting and the rational, mature behavior would be to go to talk with him, tell your boyfriend what made you feel upset. Sighing as you nodded two times, determined to put the cards on the table, you shut off the faucet and walked out of the bathroom wrapped in a towel.

“Oh, fucking hell!” You growled because of the scare of your life when you found Bucky already in your shared room.

He had his back supported on the wall, a leg flexed, and his hands behind himself. No expression on his face, but expecting an explanation from you. You were hoping for something from him too, maybe I don't know what I've done to make you feel like that, can you give me a clue? He just stared at you in silence, drying the pearls of water decorating your body before wearing a pair of black panties and your forgotten pajamas instead of one of his t-shirts impregnated on his scent.

“Com'ere”. Bucky whispered, stretching his flesh hand on air when you were about to go to sleep.

“No”.

Well, that wasn't the proper way to talk like grown adults. You crossed both arms on your chest, standing next to your side of the bed.

“What'd you say?” He squinted incredulous, slowly standing from the wall, pretending you hadn't uttered that word.

“I said no, you fucking punk”.

“The hell d'you think you're talking to, darling?”

“To the cretin who let other women flirt and touch him”. You replied with evident annoyance. “Why don't you go to show them your daddy's skills, uh? Sure I can find someone who respects me in the meantime”.

Suddenly, a grimace you hadn't seen before on him appeared like a thunderbolt. You weren't sure if you just made him feel more furious or if you just broke his heart. But before you could figure it out, Bucky shorted the distance between both in two fast strides and his hands gripped your throat and the back of your neck respectively, pinning you to the closest wall and tossing the lamp on your nightstand to the floor. You complained slightly —with his tongue wildly invading your mouth— because of the strength he used to put you against the wall.

You tried to push him away, to not fall into his charmings, but he made your mind blank when his fingers were firmly nailed in your ass and his body was accommodated between your legs. Your fiery provoked a bulge under his pants so painful that in every rock against your core he wasn't sure if it hurt or if it was some kind of pleasure he couldn't handle. Out of breath, Bucky attacked your neck, digging his teeth in your neck with so much passion that you screamed delighted his full name while pulling his hair. That gesture drove him insane, losing the less sanity he had at that point. With just a push, your boyfriend ripped off your shirt to strip you, in anticipation of your panties suffering the same fate.

Bucky threw you to the mattress on your abdomen, perfectly positioned to what was about to happen. He was so eager, so desperate for showing you what he was feeling that he didn't lose time taking off his clothes, just undoing his belt and unzipping his jeans to pull them down to his ankles along his boxers. You heard him spitting in his hand to use it as lube, although you were sufficiently soaked and ready for your Buck that neither of you needed his saliva. He rammed his dolorous erection into your cunt, crashing his pelvis and pressing it against your ass with all his strength, causing you to drown a loud cry in the sheets.

Tangling his fingers with yours and lacing your arms around your neck, putting all his weight onto your back, Bucky pounded you with an insanely quick rhythm, not giving you any chance to mold your throbbing walls around his length. Your pleased vocals echoed inside your room in total sync with the hits to your g-spot. Your body received with every one of them soft cramps mixed with pain and pleasure, making you roll your eyes and tear your throat.

“'S that wh— what you wanted, uh?” Bucky snarled against the back of your neck, totally gone, not giving you a break or showing any mercy.

“Fuck, no…” You replied, challenging him.

He swallowed a rough moan, wrapping his cold fingers around your throat while using the other to pull back your hair and arch your body. “Don' fucking… lie to me, doll… You wan— wanted your daddy to make you… feel desired over tho— those women”.

And yes, he was right. More or less. But you didn't expect him to react like that. Bucky was rabidly fucking you, moving the bed from its position with every angry thrust into your pussy. You knew you weren't going to last for too long if he continued impaling you against the mattress, just like that. But you both had to recognize that it was the best session of sex of your life.

“You were… fucking mad watch— watching 'em touch my arm… your arm, right?”

You whined at the brutality he used to push his hard cock beyond your limits, holding it there as he tilted your head to crash his lips on yours. Bucky devoured them until they were shiny, swollen, slightly ached because of the bit he left on your bottom one.

“If you don't tell me… the truth… I swear I'm not gonna let you come”. The whisper fell into your ear with such a raspy tone of voice, conscious of him being very capable.

“It was… your fucking fault, James. Not… Not mine”. You grunted, feeling him going a little deeper. “I di— didn't let anybody flirt with me… as if you didn't exist”.

That was the truth, but the wrong answer for him. Suddenly, Bucky pulled out his dick covered in your arousal, freeing you from any grip. A pause that only lasted the time he took to grab the handcuffs from your nightstand to place them in your wrists and secure them around the headboard. Now you were under his total control, defying him by strongly closing your legs and frowning at him, panting and sweating.

“Lemme tell you something”. Your boyfriend said, dangerously crawling over the bed till reaching your knees and forcing them to be separated, wide spread for him. “If you think I was flirting, but you didn't see… how uncomfortable I was… This situation is not my fault”.

The tables were turned as he finished his sentence, settling himself between your legs yet kneeling to raise your ass above his lap. “Not so mouthy now, are you, doll?”

You wanted to speak back, to say something after having a second to reconsider the reason why you were so angrier at him when Bucky pushed you down and rammed his dick back to the place it belonged. You forced unconsciously your hands gripped, wanting to put them on him —wherever—. As soon as he handcuffed you, your desire for touching him used to be suffocating. But you were the one who played from the start, instead of telling him how you were feeling about that situation at Shuri's party.

Bucky didn't even let you kiss him, stabilizing you on top with an arm around your waist and his cold hand holding the back of your head. His hips rocked straight to your g-spot once and once, making you lose any kind of control over your body as your boyfriend didn't have any compassion, needing to find relief to his sorrowful erection by cumming inside your clenching walls. You were driving him crazy, maintaining your eye contact at all moments and almost drinking your delighted, obscene crying, aware that only him could cause you to be so dirty.

“Feels good, uh…? You like it?” Your boyfriend brushed your lips with his, depriving you of his kisses or any other touch. “Bec— 'cause you take your daddy... so damn good, baby girl… So tight… so tight you could kill me”.

“Yes, da— daddy”. You whimpered nodding your head. “Only you… can fuck me li— like that… Only you”.

“That's it… that's it, oh, fuck… fuck, doll”.

You saw him roll that pair of beautiful blue eyes to the back of his head, feeling Bucky's thighs tensing under your legs. You didn't want anything else than making him cum, after overthinking about how he felt, and not about what you witnessed. He was right, more or less. He was still being so innocent in those kinds of situations that he used to feel like a scared kid.

You suddenly fell back to reality when the emptiness sensation invaded you. Bucky pulled out his length from you again, causing you to beg in silence for not denying you the orgasm you were about to reach. But he warned you. Bucky asked you to tell him the truth and you chose to challenge him. Letting you sit on the mattress, he flexed a leg to guide his twitching cock to your mouth, not needing to tell you what he wanted you to do. You just parted your lips, receiving him without protesting, curling your fingers when he forced your limits, and positioned both hands on your head. Twirling your tongue around his base as you could, with your cavity completely invaded, Bucky provoked you a strong gag. A gesture that led to his warm seed being spilled down your throat.

“Fuck my life, baby girl!” He couldn't help but howl driven by the pleasure as you coughed and made vibrate his sensitive skin.

Just holding his dick trapped by your lips for a second, he freed your mouth, taking his time to admire you swallowing his cum and showing afterward your tongue. God, you looked so beautiful disheveled, with teary eyes and swollen lips because of the effort.

“Want me to tell you something else?” Bucky asked while cleaning the sweat in his forehead with the back of his arm, taking the small key to liberating you with his free hand.

You didn't reply, not needing to, as he rubbed your wrists to comfort your skin before lying by your side.

“Com'ere”. He whispered, yet trying to recover your breathings. Bucky wrapped you with his flesh arm, rubbing his iron fingers up and down your tense belly, creating a contrast that caused you goosebumps. “'M so sorry for making you feel like that”.

He kissed you. Slowly, passionate, tasting his own juices mixed with your saliva. Caressing your tongue with the tip of his, and no rush. You felt his digits touring down your skin, till finding your throbbing and needed clit. You weren't able to hold back a sweet moan when he circled his fingertip over your sensible pearl, gladly drinking your vocals.

“When I wanted to react… she was putting that damn spoon into my mouth. It felt horrible, doll, I promise”. He murmured, venturing his long cold finger to part your folds and sink it inside you —moaning at the fulfill sensation—. “You always save me from those awkward situations… but you were having fun with Shuri and I didn't want to interrupt you”.

You were feeling like shit, looking at him through your eyelids as he curved a second finger into your cunt and increased the pace of the pounds with his hand made of vibranium. Bucky spread some gentle kisses all around your face, ending with a tender bite to your lips.

“When you told me you wanted to go home, I felt a huge relief… 'Cause that was everything I wanted. Go home with you. Maybe watch a movie… cuddle… fall asleep on the sofa”.

“Oh, God, Bucky”. You wept onto his mouth, as soon as a third finger filled you, nailing his hand in the perfect position to be moved up and down. “I'm so— sorry, Buck… I'm sorry”.

“Fuck, no”. He let out, thrusting you harder, faster, creating a melody of filthy sloppy sounds while your moans were louder and louder. “I should stop 'em, I didn't… I didn't. But I respect you more than anything, doll… I love you with all my heart. I care 'bout you, 'bout your feelings… Can you forgive me? Can you… Can you cum for me?”

You nodded your head running out of words, seeing your boyfriend snaking his body down the bed to between your shaky legs, yet having his fingers knuckles deep inside you. “Keep 'em open for your man”.

The blow to your abused cunt provoked you a lash up to your backbone, landing your hands on his head as Bucky sank his face straight to your center. His digits fucked you savagely, while his tongue took control of your swollen pearl —sucking, licking, kissing, pulling it back—. He wasn't going to deny that pleasure to you, quite the opposite. You pressed unconsciously his face a little closer to your pussy, swinging your hips and riding his mouth when his caresses and his pushes became too much for you.

Bucky made you cum harder than ever, crying his name till you didn't have any strength and you were just a sack of bones under his expert mouth, devouring you and drinking your juices as if it was the elixir of life. And when he was satiated, you glanced at him using the tip of his tongue to trail a path up crossing your abdomen, the gap between your breasts, your throat, until kissing you again getting comfortable on top of you. It was a kiss full of love, and guiltiness, and necessity, and pure devotion for you.

“Did I hurt you with what I said?” You murmured, still enraptured by the fireworks fluttering within your belly.

“This isn't 'bout me”. Bucky clicked his tongue, hiding his face into your sweaty neck. “This is 'bout what I let happen”.

“That doesn't answer my question, Buck… I'm sorry about what I said. I was just… I feel insecure". You confessed stroking his scalp and back with your hands, lacing your legs together. “I didn't mean it. I would never try to… find someone who respects me more than you do. That's impossible. And not talking about how much you love me”.

“I love you with every inch of myself”. He swore, he promised, raising his face to look straight at your eyes. “I can't imagine a life without you”.

“Me either… Your love makes me feel alive”.

Bucky left one last tender kiss on your lips before suddenly standing up and holding you onto his arms to carry you to the bathroom and take a shower together —wash your hair, worship your body again as if it was the last thing he was going to do—.

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[getouswh0re]

Howdy!! Could I request Yandere Gojo and Geto from jjk, with a special-grade sorcerer reader? Ty in advance, I really like your writing!✨

an; thank you for the love ˊᗜˋ💕 here are some drabbles for them separately, hope you liked it :3

warnings; yandere, gore, blood, unhealthy relationships, obsessive behaviour. do not condone such actions in real life, and please kindly read at your own discretion.

THE night was quiet, almost serene, totally at odds with the glowering menace in Geto’s eyes. Gone was the subtle gentleness in those inky slits you had grown to adore; in its place, inscrutable darkness bore holes into the back of your skull as you shuddered beneath the curse user’s glare.

It was still Geto in the flesh: the same face, unique hairstyle and robes he’d wear just like any other day. Yet it was no longer the special-grade sorcerer whom you once knew and loved. You never knew what caused such a drastic change in him; all you wished for, was for the old Geto to return, hoping that all of this was none other than another nightmare.

“Suguru? W-What are you doing at my door? It’s already late, you should be taking some rest ...” A hint of dismay — maybe sadness, ghosted his expression when the raven picked up the quivers in your tone. Nonetheless, a gentle smile adorns his face, emerging from the shadows to reveal himself as the raven explained himself.

“Why? Can’t I come and visit you?” He cocked his head, a playful smirk evident. Geto never ceased to make your heart flutter; perhaps it was his flirtatious nature and mellow personality that drew you towards him, but even after being one of his closest friends for a long time, at times you felt like you couldn’t understand him at all, with this being one of the occurrences.

You chortled, about to invite the raven into your apartment when warning bells started to ring incessantly in your head, warning you that there was something awry about him once you caught a glimpse at his clothes imbrued with crimson splatters.

“Sugu ... what is that on your clothes?”

“Oh this? Satoru splashed me with red paint, it’s not much of a big deal.” You knew he was lying, instantly picking up the revolting metallic stench from the stains. Dread filled your mind while you staggered back, keeping a distance from the male who gave you a perplexed look in return.

“You and I know a smell like this isn’t red paint ...” Trying to be as calm as you could, you retracted a step backwards with every stride Geto took. “Be honest with me. What on earth have you done?”

“Sharp as ever, y/n.” A condescending look took over as Geto finally revealed his true colours. “The world needs to change. All these monkeys are the reasons why curses exist. They can’t even control their cursed energy properly, and we sorcerers have to battle with death every time a curse poses as a threat to them. Their ignorance is revolting in its core, and I believe to make the world a better place, it would be better off to remove all of them out of sight. Don’t you agree —“

“What the fuck are you thinking?” Unable to withhold your seething rage, you snapped at the curse user. “This isn’t what sorcerers should do! What you are doing is of no difference from a brutal murderer Geto! I can’t fucking believe you!”

“How can you think of me like they y/n? That hurts my heart you know.”

Before you could even scream, he was already inches away, blood-stained hands caressing your cheeks tenderly as if you were made of fragile glass. “I just want to make life easier, there’s no need for us to put our lives at stake every time we exorcise curses. Right? We could be enjoying peaceful days together, free from the dangers of this world ...”

“Stop! Your delusions are sick, this isn’t you at all Geto! I don’t know what is wrong with your brain, but it’s never too late to turn back —“

Suddenly, your vision darkened — your consciousness sinking into a bottomless void as the raven carried you in a bridal style, the two of you vanishing into the tenebrosity of the night.

“And I thought you were the only one who’d understand me ... love.” He shook his head in disapproval, but the disappointment in his eyes were eventually replaced with glee as Geto stared at your limp figurine in his arms.

“But don’t worry, what needs to be done will be done. For our sake, for our future together.”

EVERYTHING would always be uglier up close.

At first glance, one might find Gojo Satoru a perfect man: with talent, looks and wealth all in one package. Men envy the greatest sorcerer of all time, and women grovel at his feet, desperate for a sprinkle of the man’s attention. Despite living the life everyone dreams to be in, the heir of the Gojo clan couldn’t care less about how the world spins around his axis. For the sorcerer has his eyes set on something much more worthy of his time and effort. 

He is a man of determination, willing to achieve his goals with whatever means possible — even resorting to dirtying his own hands. It is such an irony that underneath the charming façade, such a disgusting soul exists.

“For the last time Satoru, I am not interested in dating anybody.” Heaving an exasperated sigh, you politely shoved the lavish presents piling up at your front door back into the man’s arms. 

“I feel really flattered that you have feelings for me, I truly do. But I’m sure you know as sorcerers, we fight with death every day. If there is any regret that I’d dread to have ... it would be to leave everything I love behind. And I would rather die alone than leave my partner suffering on their own.” 

“That’s what I love about you y/n.” 

A loving sigh slipping from his tongue, Gojo took a step forward, cupping your face with utter delicacy. Yet you felt more than revolted by his sudden intimacy, struggling to writhe away from his tightening grip.

“You are always so kind, so considerate ... something I cannot find in anyone else other than you. But think about it sweetheart! You and I are both special-grade sorcerers, but I can protect you from the curses — at the same time giving you the moon and stars. We could move in together, you wouldn’t even need to work anymore. Why make your life harder when I could simply provide for you? Seriously —” 

“S-Satoru, I hate to tell you this but you’re pushing the boundaries right now.” Trying to reason with the sorcerer, you spoke with a harsher tone, praying that Gojo would get the hint and respect your choices. “You’re out of your mind! And why would you force 

Nonetheless, your words fell on deaf ears. 

“Now this is not how you should react when someone offers you their heart and soul.” The light in his cerulean eyes darkened, cyan hues glimmering beneath the penumbra of nightfall. “And I know you are a smart young woman, so you’d come to realise what is in your best interest. I really don’t want to do this to you y/n; but if you are trying to push me away from your life again, I would have to keep you to my side — the hard way.” 

With that, he pulled down his blindfold.

You were aware of how dangerous Infinite Void was; still, experiencing it first-hand was one hell of a terrifying experience. Fleeting images flashed across your vision as if all of this was in fastforward motion, depicting your fate in the past along with future. As certain blurred vestiges showed up, your heart sank in indescribable despair; moments of you and none other than Gojo were portrayed — blood splattered across the labyrinth of streets in Tokyo, your trembling hands intertwined with his, platinum bands wrapped around both of your ring fingers, adorable kids that were exact replicas of both of you. At this point, you could feel the will to fight back dwindling to fickle embers. 

No matter what you did, Gojo would always find his way back to you.

Even if he had to tear the world apart with his hands. 

[cerebrumrott]

Obey Me! Shall we Date?

Brothers x MC

Synopsis: Reaction to one of the other brothers insulting you

Lucifer

It had started out as a nice evening for once. Though of course that would never last with his brothers. Levi was at Mammon's throat all through dinner over some dumb figurine he was missing.

The argument quickly escalated into a full on screaming match, just as Lucifer was about to tell them both to shut up or take their pissing contest else where. You had chimed in asking them rather politely not to fight at the table.

Leviathan on his war path didn't stop to think before insults were thrown your way. "Shut up you worthless human and stay out of it for once!" Levi had snapped.

Everyone almost leapt out of their chairs in fear when Lucifer's fist loudly collided with the table silencing the room. "Leviathan you will apologize and go to your room." Lucifer said clearly a command and not a suggestion.

Levi now scared and embarrassed muttered a rushed apology to you before scampering away his tail literally tucked between his legs as he had been so startled by Lucifer's intervention that he had poofed into his demon form.

Once dinner was over Lucifer pulled you aside to ask if you were okay. With reassurance from you that you are indeed fine and didn't take anything that was said to heart he can go about his night without worry.

Mammon

It had been a rather stressful day for everyone in the house. Tensions were high and it resulted in Mammon acting as the punching bag for his younger siblings. Not that he really minded in all honesty as he knew they were just letting off steam and didn't mean anything they said.

Asmodeus was currently laying into him as the two sat in the living room. Mammon admittedly antagonizing Asmodeus into saying some particularly mean things as he just played stupid further annoying his little brother.

You had been an innocent bystander, sitting on the other side of the room just watching the whole spectacle before you whilst working on a school project. Mammon had something particularly weird in response to one of Asmo's outbursts which had pulled a small laugh out of you.

Though that had been enough for Asmodeus to turn his frustration on you in that moment. "Shut up you ugly bitch!" Asmodeus snapped but as soon as the words left his mouth the regret seeped into his features.

Mammon was far past playing now as he rose from his seat glaring down at Asmodeus. "Apologize Asmodeus." Mammon nearly shouted. Asmodeus was taking far too long for Mammon's taste to apologize and it was quickly angering him to the point he could feel his teeth grinding together.

Asmodeus quickly apologized to you after seeing how serious Mammon was before excusing himself. You weren't so much as hurt by the words as you were just taken aback by the sudden turn on you.

Mammon none the less joined you were you were sitting practically draping himself over you as he pulled you into his arms. "Don't worry MC the great Mammon is here there is no need to cry." "I'm not crying-" "Shhhh, it's okay." He would loudly hush you while smiling feeling better when he hears you laugh again.

Leviathan

He was sitting with you in your bedroom. Excitedly explaining the plot to this new game that was coming out and how it ties into the tv show it was based off of. Though Mammon who had been pacing around the room sulking was getting rather sick of Leviathan's consumption of your attention.

Mammon short on patience snaps at his brother urging to him to just shut up and get lost. Before Leviathan could retort for himself you had leapt to his defense.

"So what you are just as big of a loser as he is now?!" Mammon scoffed though the panic in his eyes was evident when he saw how upset Leviathan was at insulting his henry.

Leviathan literally hissed in anger at his brother as his tail lashed out behind him Demon form in full swing as he positioned himself between you and the idiot now backing up with his hands raised.

"N-Now Levi lets think about thi-" "Apologize and get out!" Leviathan roared his fangs bared to his idiot of a brother.

Mammon sputtered out an apology over his shoulder as he ran out of the room slamming the door behind him as Levi turned back to you. He spends the next ten minutes making sure you are okay.

"Levi I promise I'm fine." "Are you sure?" "I'm sure." "Are you sure you're sure?" "Levi please..."

Satan

Satan had been sorting through his collection in the library when you joined him. One thing led to another and now the two of you were working on using one of the spare bookshelves to turn it into your own little reading nook where Satan could put books he wanted you to read and you could easily browse your way through them.

Things were going swimmingly if Satan had to say so himself. He was happily chattering about books he thought you would like and was even more excited when you suggested a few for him to read himself.

The two of you so engrossed in the world you had formed between the two of you had forgotten that Belphegor was attempting to nap on the couch.

Satan had handed you a book and was beaming down at you as you exclaimed excitedly starting to explain how this was one of your childhood favorites when Belphegor yelled out in frustration.

The rage in Belphegor was painfully clear to Satan as his younger brother sat up suddenly glaring at the two of you with irritation.

"MC Do you not know when to shut your damned mouth!" Belphegor snapped as he stood to leave in a fury. Though he hadn't taken more than a few steps when Satan's roar made him turn back in fear.

Satan was unable to hold himself back as he flew forward tackling his younger brother to the ground his weight driving the air from Belphegor's lungs. The two wrestled for a moment both now in their Demon forms lashing out at each other, Belphegor attempting to throw Satan off of him by kicking out and scratching him with his thorn laced tail. This did nothing more than anger Satan further as he screamed pulling back his arm to punch Belphegor right in his face.

Satan was a half a second from caving Belphegor's head in when he felt you throw yourself on him arms wrapped around his neck as you asked him to stop.

He hesitated a moment as he listened to your pleas. Belphegor used this opportunity to squirm out from under Satan bolting from the room with a speed that was unlike the avatar of sloth. Satan would have laughed had he not still been boiling inside.

Rather than chase down his brother he instead turned to you holding you against his chest as he took many, many deep breaths until finally the calm returned to him and he could look down at you without seeing red.

"Thank you for standing up for me but please don't murder the others for me." "Not even a little?"

Asmodeus

Asmodeus had acted on instinct as he felt his arm snap out from his side his hand cracking across his brothers face. Even when his brother turned to look at him with a devastated look he couldn't help the anger seeping from him.

Asmo had spent the morning with you helping to assemble a new wardrobe for you with outfits more suited to devildom weather. Seeing as much of the clothing in majolish was designed with demon physic in mind, you had grown a bit timid in some of your choices.

Asmodeus was having none of that, wanting to show you how beautiful you are insisted on a mini fashion show in his room.

You had been loving it so far. Asmo taking special time to pull you in front of his full size mirror and point out all the best parts of you and your clothes. He was also quite enjoying the snuggling and cuddling between outfit changes.

You were trying on your last outfit, one you had been openly against initially due to its sheer fabric and open back. While in the bathroom changing, Asmo took the time to fold up your purchases slipping in a few shirts of his own for you to add to your collection that he thought you would like.

When Mammon let himself in...

The second oldest threw the door open striding in going on about something about Asmo hoarding you all to himself just as you stepped out from the bathroom shyly showing off your new shirt.

Before Asmo could throw Mammon out by the scruff he turned to look at you and snorted upon seeing what you were wearing.

"MC, How can you let Asmo do that to you? Don't you feel stupid dressed up like some old geezer?" Mammon teased not at all seeing the effect it had on you. Asmo could feel his heart clench as he saw your face fall.

"You don't like it?" "I mean MC you look like one of the pirate people from the movies you had us watching." Mammon laughed as Asmo stepped forward glaring up at him

"That's enough out of you, get out." Asmo snapped motioning towards the door as mammon gave him a confused expression

"So you can let MC walk around looking stupid? I don-" Mammon wasn't able to finish his sentence as Asmo's arm snapped out slapping Mammon across the face.

The impact sounded much worse than it truly was as Mammon stared down at his younger brother in surprise.

"Don't you dare say such things to MC when you dress like a total slob half the time! They will be taking no mind to the words of a fool like you!" Asmodeus all but growled as he grabbed Mammon by the collar of his shirt and tossed him out of his room.

Asmodeus was absolutely fuming as he walked back to you pulling you into his arms and snuggling you against him.

"Don't you listen to a single word that come out of that idiots mouth do you hear me? He wouldn't know a thing about beauty if it hit him upside the head." "You did just slap him Asmo." "My point exactly! He still couldn't see how dazzling you look!"

Beelzebub

The two of you had been cooking dinner in the kitchen. Really it was Beel's turn to cook but he couldn't be trusted not to just eat it all before serving it so you were on babysitting duty.

Even though it wasn't your turn to do anything you still insisted on helping Beelzebub with chopping and prepping things while he took care of the more labor intensive tasks.

Whilst working Asmodeus had made his way into the kitchen to get himself something to drink. You had yet to notice him as you were too focused on kneading dough to realize the brother was walking behind you. It was only when you suddenly whipped around with a handful of dough and splattered the avatar of lust across the chest that you realized your mistake.

The shriek that came out of Asmodeus startled Beel from his own work turning back just in time to see the anger flash across his older brother's face seeing his shirt was ruined.

"MC why is it that you can never do the simplest of things right?! Are you stupid!?" Asmodeus had snapped letting his anger over take his thoughts. Too busy trying to clean his shirt he didn't notice the tears welling in your eyes, but Beelzebub did.

"Asmo, you know it was an accident so apologize for yelling at them." Beel said sternly coming over to look down on his older brother.

"I think not! Look at the state of my shirt!" Asmo huffed only now glancing up to see you wiping the tears from your eyes with the corner of your apron.

"Asmodeus, Say your sorry." Beel urged as Asmodeus pouted pulling you into his arms.

"I'm sorry MC I lost my temper and I didn't mean it." Asmo apologized and Beel beamed down at the two of you happy that you two had made up.

"Group hug!" Beelzebub announced as he was already wrapping his arms around the two of you and squeezing

Belphegor

Belphie had decided that today was going to be a day just for the two of you. With enough snacks and drinks hoarded up in the attic to keep even Beelzebub sated. He stole you away early in the morning content to snooze the day away with you at his side.

It was nearing mid day when Belphegor was roused from his nap. He was still curled into your side as he opened his eyes seeing you trying to have a whispered conversation with Lucifer who was looming over the bed with a sour expression.

"Seriously MC now is not the time to be wasting about when you have work to be doing. Now get up and stop being so lazy, You think you would know better than to-" Lucifer ranted his voice slowly raising in timber as he grew more heated.

Belphegor felt his own temper flare just from hearing Lucifer's voice but then knowing he was harassing you sent it over the edge. Belphegor couldn't help the growl that started in his throat his demon form appearing before he himself could register it.

Without rising from the bed he felt the thorns on his tail bristle as he wrapped it around you barricading you from his older brother.

"Go away..." Belphegor grumbled glaring up at Lucifer through his bangs. Clearly not wanting to deal with Belphegor's attitude Lucifer simply sneered and strode off making a few remarks as he left though Belphegor ignored them preferring to you you down into his arms.

"Ignore him he doesn't know anything..." Belphegor yawned tucking your head under his chin. He could feel the dwindling tension in your shoulders as he pulled you close. Rubbing his hand in circles on your back he felt the unease slowly slip from you before he himself slipped into sleep.

He admits he may be over reacting with this next part but Lucifer's already poor sleep may be just take a nose dive with the ideas he was cooking up.

[arvinsescape]

Choices.

A/N: Another Mob!Tom fic, a longer one. It’s another darker one and I hope you all enjoy! Do not engage if the topics make you uncomfortable 💕 (side note: I managed to get switch!Tom in there).

Summary: You become the product of someone’s torture and now you have to decide what you want.

Warnings: Smut (oral, f rec), unprotected sex (wrap it up, stay safe), Violence, blood, injuries, bruises, language, misogynistic views. Minors do not engage. I think I got everything, possibly a few typos.

W/C: 8K.

The sound of skin-on-skin contact resonated through the halls, the sting in your cheek burning as Caleb shook the sting from his own hand.

“What did he do with my shipment?” Caleb hissed as he crouched down so he was eye level with you.

“I wouldn’t worry too much about that, when he finds out what you’ve done, he’s gonna kill you.” You said, probably a stupid thing to say as it earned you yet another smack to your already bruised cheek.

“I’ll give you one thing, you’re tougher than you look. Shame you think you’re worth more to him, he’s known for the last twelve hours I’ve had you and he’s done nothing.” Caleb laughed as he stood to full height.

“Bullshit.” You hissed and Caleb laughed.

“Oh come on, you don’t think men like us put women above our businesses do you? More women like you will come along, more cunts to keep our cocks warm. Let’s be real, that’s really all you are and ever will be to him.” He laughed and you winced at the harshness, maybe he was right. He wasn’t here, wasn’t here to help you.

“Now,” he announced as he made his way over to a table, taking a hammer off it. “I’ve quite frankly grown bored. Tell me what he did with the shipment, tell me where it is.” He said, he was yet again in front of you. He’d taken your hand in his and if your wrist wasn’t roped down to the chair you’d have slapped him.

“You have quite dainty little fingers.” He said as he stroked over them. “Shame I’m going to have to break a few.” He said and you felt defeated, utterly defeated.

“I don’t know what he did.” You answered in a breathy whisper. “He doesn’t get me involved.” It wasn’t strictly a lie, you knew he’d stolen the shipment just not how.

“Given up? I would to, must be disappointing.” He laughed again as he crouched down to your level, stroking your sweaty hair out of your face, running a thumb harshly over the bruise on your cheek. “Maybe he hasn’t even noticed you’ve gone, that spot you occupy in his bed probably isn’t cold, already filled.” He taunted and you felt the tears fall.

“Just let me go. I can’t help you.” You said, your heart was broken. He knew you were here, and he’d done nothing. Maybe it was all bullshit, maybe he didn’t love you like he said he did.

“But we’re having so much fun.” He said as he stood up again. “I know you know something, you must, you sauntered around that mansion enough.”

“I don’t.” You said, completely defeated now.

“Tell you what, you can serve as a lesson, I’ll give you back to him. Since you can’t help and show him what happens to his stuff when he messes with mine.” He said and you succumbed to the tears.

**

Tom was panicking he’d not seen you all day, you’d gone out for lunch and now he couldn’t get a hold of you. His mind was racing, he’d sent all of his staff out to find you and no such luck, it was like you’d disappeared into thin air. He was pacing his office, running a hand through his hair when he heard it. Three loud knocks to his mansion’s door. He hastily made his way downstairs, Harrison in tow.

As soon as he opened the door, a body collided with his own. He only just caught it in time, the body almost limp in his arms. It took his brain a moment to catch up as he realised just who it was that had been thrust into chest.

“Caleb sends his regards.” A man laughed and Tom felt frozen. How had this happened? Not you, not his precious princess. Tom watched as the man disappeared, Harrison giving chase.

It was your small fist on your right hand that grasped his shirt that brought him back to reality, he picked you up, one arm around your back, the other in the crook of your knees as you winced in pain.

“I’m sorry princess.” He mumbled as he took in your features, you looked so tired, bruised cheek. Tom felt his anger rise, Caleb should count his days lucky because when Tom found him it would be the last day he spent on Earth. He took you into your shared room, placing you carefully on the bed as he took in the rest of you. The outfit you’d worn that day was dirty but still intact, your wrists were raw, evidence of the rope that had tied them down, the same with your ankles.

You had bruises almost everywhere, face tear stained. You were half awake, weak as you fluttered your eyes occasionally before closing them again. Tom sat with you on the bed for a while, thinking about his next move, of all the ways he was going to torture Caleb for doing this to you. He heard commotion downstairs and knew Harrison had caught whoever had brought you back to him.

Tom didn’t leave you, he knew Harrison would take over, bring the men back and make sure whoever he’d caught was dealt with until Tom could deal with it. Harrison was his right-hand man, one of his most trusted advisors. Tom looked down at you, moving stray strands of hair from your face, he almost cried at the sight.

He kept a hand on your chest, evidence you were alive. He brought his lips to your forehead as he kissed it, a tear making its way down his cheek. You didn’t deserve this, and he couldn’t protect you, he failed at the one thing he’d promised to himself. It wasn’t long before your eyes fluttered open to look at him.

You took in Tom as you opened your eyes, he looked tired, upset as he held a hand to your chest, hair a mess and those brown eyes had seemingly lost their usual spark. You looked at him, no energy to speak. He’d left you, didn’t come for you when you wanted him to, you briefly remember begging for him, pieces of the beating you’d taken coming back in flashes. You’d lost consciousness through parts, the pain too much.

“Hey Princess.” He breathed out, voice soft, quiet. It almost sounded like there was an ounce of care in there, but you must be delusional. You just looked at him and he sighed before disappearing. You didn’t really wonder where he’d gone, what he was doing, you were thinking about how to get yourself home, away from this and away from him.

It wasn’t long before he lifted you again, you were too tired to fight with him as he took you to the bathroom, stripped you of your clothes and put you into the bath. The first bath you had was to get rid of the dirt, Tom ever so carefully washing your body and hair, it almost had you fooled into thinking he cared. He’d fooled you for almost two years now though.

He almost cried again as he took in the bruising that was all over your body, he took your left hand into his own and you winced, almost crying out in pain. He studied your hand, as if in some sort of mocking he took in the bruising of your left finger, the one he intended to place a ring on. He could tell just by looking at it that it was broken. He whispered out an apology, he needed to call his personal doctor to come and see you.

He lifted you again, carefully, before running a second bath, placing you in there, probably hoping the hot water would relax your tired muscles. It was silent, the only sounds being your winces, Tom’s quiet apologies and his soft kisses to your skin. Tom was the first to properly break the silence.

“I’m so sorry princess.” He said softly and you wondered how this man, your Tom could have left you like that, left you to die for all he knew. You didn’t speak, too tired for an argument with him. He sighed as he sat with you, sitting on the edge of the bathtub as you got lost in your own thoughts.

Your gut was telling you it couldn’t be true, your Tom wouldn’t have left you like that, he’d have come for you if he’d known but your head was full of the things Caleb had said. Full of the doubt he’d put there, the doubt that Tom loved you at all, that he felt anything for you. You felt more tears slip down your cheek as you hastily and angrily tried to wipe them away.

“Hey, hey, I’m here, I’ve got you.” Tom said as he lowered himself to take you into his arms. Your good but wet hand fisting the dry fabric of his shirt as you cried into his shoulder. “You’re okay. I’m here.” He repeated as you cried for what felt like the millionth time that day. “I’m gonna take you to bed okay? I won’t leave you, not tonight.” But he already had hadn’t he? He’d left you with Caleb, maybe you were just a good fuck, and he couldn’t be bothered to find anyone else now that you were back.

He lifted you for the last time out of the bath, draining it as he stood you on your feet, wrapping a towel around your fragile frame. Rubbing his hands along your arms in an attempt to help you dry off. You didn’t fight him as he placed a shirt, his shirt, over your head, helping you get into bed. Everything about him was so soft in this moment, so gentle, it made it hard to believe what he’d done tonight or on the contrary, what he’d not done.

Tom’s doctor came and left, securing your finger, whatever he said to Tom was drowned out by your own thoughts. You tuned back in to hear the doctor say that your bruises were okay, you were going to be okay. But that was lie, you weren’t okay, far from it, not emotionally at least.

You fell asleep that night, hand fisted into his shirt, it was keeping you grounded, reminding you that you were here, with Tom, in his room, not back there. It was a reminder you weren’t dreaming. Tom held you until you fell asleep, coaxing your not broken fingered hand to interlace with his own, you knew you were probably grasping his hand too tight, but you needed to keep yourself anchored, stop yourself falling apart. You were tired and in no mood to fight and being here with Tom was a far better alternative than being back there with Caleb.

Tom was drifting into his own sleep when your scream jolted him awake, probably woke the whole mansion. Your body suddenly moving from his own as you became completely unsettled, face contorting in pain. Tom was quick to move as he tried to wake you, dodging your flailing arms, he took them in his hands, careful of your finger, pinning them above your head.

“Princess, it’s okay, it’s me. It’s Tom, it’s just me. You’re safe.” He repeated as he watched your eyes snap open and meet his, he was shocked to see the rage in them.

“Get off me.” You screamed at him, and he did, instantly, releasing you from his hold as he sat up, you sitting up onto your knees as you looked at him.

“Princess, it’s okay, calm down.” He reassured as he carefully went to take your hand in his, you slapped it away and stood up off the bed.

“Stay away from me, Tom. I want to go home.” You snapped and he stood from the bed as well. He heard a knock at the door, ignoring it.

“Baby, you are home.” Tom was utterly confused at your turn towards him, you looked so angry, so hurt with him and he couldn’t understand it. He’d spent all day looking for you, used every resource he had to try. He made his way towards you again, placing his hands on your shoulders.

He watched as you cried again, falling into his chest, you were tired, confused, that much he could tell. Like you were fighting an internal battle with yourself, one he knew nothing about, and it was frightening him, your sudden anger towards him setting him on edge. He heard a knock on his door again and bit back his anger, for your sake.

“Whatever it is, I’ll deal with it in the morning.” Tom snapped, hands moving to cover your ears as not to startle you. You suddenly moved, ripping yourself from his grip as you looked at him wildly.

“You left me.” You said and Tom looked confused, he felt confused.

“What, princess, I don’t know what you mean.” He said calmly.

“Bullshit. You left me and you know you did. Why is it you keep me around? A good fuck? The minute my life is in danger, you do nothing. You really had me fooled.” You ranted as you paced the room and Tom felt more confused than he ever had in his life. Left you? He would never, had he known where you were, he’d have come straight for you.

“I didn’t leave you princess, I promise. You know me, I love you. You know I’d do anything to make sure you’re safe.” He said as he carefully approached your figure, stopping your pacing and forcing you to look at him, tears streaming down your beautiful face again. You looked at him almost desperately, like you wanted to believe what he was saying but couldn’t.

“I, Tom. I can’t get these thoughts out of my head. I don’t want to believe that you left me, but you did. How do I know that what you’re saying isn’t bullshit?” You spoke, voice broken, and Tom almost cried again.

“If I’d have known where you were, I’d have come for you. You know me, Y/N, you know me.” He said sincerely.

“I want to believe you but I can’t. Caleb said-“

“Whatever he said was bullshit, baby, you know me. You know I’d move the world for you.” He said as he stroked your hair.

“I need to get away.” You spoke and you looked at him, you were begging him not to argue with you. “I need to think.” You said and it was so desperate that Tom couldn’t deny you, you needed it and he’d give it to you.

“Okay baby, I’ll let you go. Wherever you want, but tonight please just stay here and I’ll take you where you want to go tomorrow.” He pleaded and he watched you fight an internal battle with yourself, he knew what you were thinking. He knew you were thinking that if you spent the night in bed with him, you were scared you’d wake up tomorrow and all will be forgiven. Tom’s heart tore in two as he opened his mouth to speak.

“I’ll sleep next door. If you need anything that’s where I’ll be.” He said as he kissed your forehead and made his way out of the room.

It was 5 o clock in the morning when the door opened in one of his spare rooms, a body colliding with his own as it clung to him. He didn’t fight you when you climbed on top of him, wrapping yourself in him. His heart hammered in his chest, he was conflicted, you’d just asked, begged, for space and here you were making sure there wasn’t an inch of it.

You were on top of him, trying to pull his arms closer around you and he didn’t fight, not when he heard the small sigh leave your lips. He was careful not to hurt you as he placed his arms around your trembling figure on top of him.

“I just, I can’t. I need to feel safe.” You cracked voice reached his ears. He was conflicted, he knew this would have you feeling differently in the morning, but he couldn’t forget the pleading look in your eyes when you told him you needed space. He’d let you have this, give you what you needed tonight but tomorrow he had to let you go. As much as it would rip his heart out he had to let you go.

He held you, carefully as your breathing evened out in the crook of his neck. He was used to you wanting his touch but never like this, not this much. It was almost like you wanted to get inside him, wrap yourself completely in him, like you couldn’t get close enough. He did his best, did his best to make you feel covered and only when he heard your soft snores did he know that he’d been successful at making you feel safe.

“I love you so much.” He said as he held you and let his own tears fall.

**

He woke up and felt no weight on top of him, you’d moved. He thought you’d be downstairs and was shocked to see you sat cross legged on the bed next to him.

“I’m sorry about last night.” You said.

“You’re sorry?” He asked, what?

“I just, I couldn’t sleep without you.” You clarified and he nodded as he studied you carefully. He knew what was about to come, knew he needed to be a better man than he’d ever been in his life, for you. “I was thinking,” you started as you cleared your throat, although it did nothing for the croakiness of it. “Maybe we should talk.” You offered and his heart shattered, last night you were scared of it happening and it had.

He sat up as he rubbed his hands down his face, collecting himself because this was going to be the hardest thing he’d ever done in his life. He just couldn’t forget that begging in your eyes. The way you pleaded with him to let you go and in his mind this was the right thing to do. Be the man you’d begged him to be last night.

“You’re mind was pretty made-up last night.” He grumbled and he didn’t miss the way your eyes melted at his morning voice.

“I’ve had a chance to sleep.” You ran your uninjured hand through your hair as you shrugged.

“Y/N,” He hated using your name, he hardly ever used it but pet names? Not right now. “With me.” He continued and you furrowed your brows.

“So?” You huffed back.

“You begged me to let you leave last night.”

“I’ve changed my mind, I can’t sleep without you.” You said.

“Don’t do this to yourself, last night you wanted, no needed to leave, you told me so.”

“I was confused. Tommy,” that fucking nickname. “We can talk it out and I can stay here.” You were making this hard.

“I can’t. Y/N, you need let me do the right thing here, the right thing for you.”

“So you just want to leave me again?” You huffed out, anger rising on your ever beautiful features.

“Again? I told you last night that’s not what happened.” His voice still soft. “You need to clear your head and you and I both know you won’t do that when I’m here.” He reasoned, he knew you had to find a way to process this, and he knew what would happen if he let you stay.

He’d done his own thinking last night and he knew if he let you stay, if you allowed yourself to just get wrapped up in him instead of process what had happened to you and the cause of it, the cause being his lifestyle. He couldn’t do that to you, he needed to let you think even if that meant letting you go forever. He was ripping his heart out here and the look on your face was stomping it hard into the floor.

“But I don’t understand.” You whispered as you let a tear fall, Tom was quick to move and wipe it away, you caught his hand and brought it between your own.

“You will, you need to process this, need to think about what you really want. If you weren’t with me this never would have happened.” He said and you let out a choked sob, you knew he was right.

**

He’d moved you into a flat, well Harrison had moved your things in, Tom knew if he did it he’d become selfish and let you come home. Tom made sure it was secure, bought it in your name so you wouldn’t be attached forever if you decided to leave, it would be yours. He kept it safe but he stayed away, you’d been gone a week when you first called and out of instinct he answered.

“Tommy?” You sniffled down the line and he knew a nightmare had just woken you up.

“Y/N, this isn’t a good idea.” He warned softly.

“I know, I didn’t call you any of the other nights, but I just need to sleep.” You said and he sighed, running a hand over his face.

“What do you need?” He asked and he hoped you wouldn’t say what he thought you were going to, that would make it harder on both of you.

“Can you, I know you won’t come here and I can’t come there, can you just talk to me? Please?” You asked in a whisper and Tom couldn’t refuse.

“What do you want me to talk about?” He asked and he heard you sigh down the line.

“I don’t know, just anything.” You said and he heard you shuffle around presumably to get more comfortable.

**

That was the first of many phone calls, the two of them indulging themselves late at night when neither could sleep. Tom never called you, you always called him. He was becoming conflicted, he probably shouldn’t be doing this but he was too selfish.

“Tom?” You said and he knew that voice, already feeling blood rush downstairs. It’d been a while since he’d had any sort of relief.

“Y/N/N.” Tom groaned and he heard you giggle slightly, in that seductive way that could get him going at the most inconvenient times and you knew it. Yeah you were definitely horny and this wasn’t a call to help you sleep.

“Tom, I need you.” You panted down the phone at him and he threw his head back into his pillow.

“Y/N, no.” Tom said, firm tone and he heard you shuffle around and hoped to god you weren’t gonna start doing what he knew you were probably thinking. If he heard you moan that would be it, he’d drive over and he couldn’t let that happen.

“Come on, Tom don’t be a killjoy. You always want me.” You said and he heard you shuffle again.

“This isn’t a good idea.” He said, cursing himself for growing hard.

“Come on Tom, we’ve done it before.” You said and then he heard it, your little whimper that meant you’d probably touched your clit.

“Y/N.” He said firmly. He couldn’t let this escalate as much as he wanted to, he couldn’t. He heard you huff. “Please don’t.” He said.

“You don’t want to hear me take care of myself?” You tried again, a moan slipping down the phone.

“No.” Yes.

“Fine.” He heard you huff in defeat.

“We need to stop these phone calls, they’re not doing you any good.” He spoke, voice firmer than he thought it would be to say his dick was currently straining in his boxers.

“I don’t want to, I won’t, I’m sorry.” You stumbled over yourself.

“It’s not just about calling me for phone sex, it’s all of it, it’s not a good idea.” He said, he’d never gone soft as fast in his life, the atmosphere had changed massively. “Y/N/N,” he sighed. “I want you to stop calling me, until your head is clear I want you to stop calling me.” He said, voice soft and he heard your sharp intake of breath.

“Okay.” He heard you say after a while before you hung up.

**

That was two months ago, he knew you were okay, of course he did but he had had zero contact with you. You were slowly processing what had happened to you, thinking about what you wanted. No matter how many times you thought to yourself that Tom’s lifestyle wasn’t the reason you’d been practically tortured a bruise would remind you that if you weren’t with him it wouldn’t have happened.

It wasn’t until you went to bed that you realised how much you wanted him even if it wasn’t a good idea. He made you happier than anyone ever had, he cared, fuck did he care. He always wanted the best for you, you wanted to be angry at him for doing what he did but you couldn’t. Every time you took a branch of that anger it led you back to the same trunk, the same reason, he’d done it for you, been the better man for you.

Tom was a selfish man everyone knew that, if he wanted something it was his but with you? He couldn’t, he never had been. It made you realise that Caleb was wrong, he had to be, Tom hadn’t behaved like a man who used you to keep his dick wet. There was no way he could have faked that for so long. He was always faithful, not like half the men that rivalled him, he just wouldn’t do that to you.

You love him, that much is clear to you, the way he makes you feel and looks after you is something you know you’ll never have again and ultimately it’s what made your decision. Although you knew that what happened before could potentially happen again, you found yourself unable to care, Tom was it for you. You had to follow your heart, it couldn’t take the pain of being away from him but it didn’t mean you’d turn as much of a blind eye anymore.

You knew who the man was, who you wanted to be with, you wouldn’t be the naive girlfriend anymore, the one who pretended none of it happened. You had to take some responsibility yourself, toughen up, if you were going to be with him, you needed to toughen up and wake the fuck up. Realise how dangerous his world can be and if you were going to make yourself a part of that then you had to make some changes.

As long as you could have him the way you loved him behind closed doors then it was a risk you were willing to take. You couldn’t stop yourself as you brought up the contact you’d not used in two months.

**

In the two months since Tom had asked you to stop calling him he’d still not managed to find Caleb. Every lead was a dead end. He missed you. Missed everything about you, he took solace in the fact that he knew you were safe and probably healing. He found himself wishing you would call and he’d gotten so drunk one night that Harrison had had to take his phone from his hand to stop him calling you.

He lost hope daily that you were going to call him, that you were going to show up and realised you’d probably done the smart thing and decided not to have anything to do with him. It hurt him, truly it did but was he to do? Make you stay? He knew if he’d let you stay another couple of nights in his bed then you’d just consume yourself with him and not think about what you wanted.

His phone made him jump when it rang, he wasn’t used to this anymore, wasn’t used to seeing your contact pop up, not over the last two months. He almost declined the call until he thought about why you might be calling, you’d made no attempt to contact him in all this time, maybe you were ready to talk, maybe you’d cleared your head. His thumb swiped at the green button as he put it to his ear.

“Can you come over?” That was all he got, no explanation, nothing.

**

His fist banged on the door, you knew it was him, you knew immediately. You knew him like the back of your hand. You opened it and couldn’t help the small gasp that left your lips, was he trying to drive you insane? Those dress pants, white shirt tucked into his pants, rolled up sleeves? Fuck, he always looked like he was formed by the gods themselves.

“Hi darling.” He spoke and you couldn’t stop yourself as you threw yourself at him, hugging him tight. It was nice to feel him hug you back, be back in those arms that did nothing but make you feel safe, at home.

“Hi.” You whispered as you pulled back and pulled him into your flat, he was yet to see it.

“Why the late-night call?” He asked.

“I wanted to see you.” You shrugged, licking your lips that had become dry just from looking at him. “I miss you.” You spoke honestly.

“I miss you too.” He said back so easily, no time to think about the words.

The atmosphere in the room felt thick, thick with tension, the last time you’d spoken to him you’d wanted him to help get yourself off and you grew aroused at the thought. Your fingers just didn’t quite cut it, nor did the vibrator. Nothing would feel as good as having Tom wedged between your legs as he fucked into you.

He looked at you like he was thinking the same thing, he’d always said his hand wasn’t as satisfying as your wet heat. You grew hotter the more you thought about it, the more you thought about him getting himself off to the memories of the two of you fucking, just like you’d been doing. He watched your every move ever so carefully, your bruising was now all healed, finger free from its bandages.

You looked like you again but you had a shine to you that Tom liked, you looked happier, almost healthier. Like you’d been properly taking care of yourself and he smiled, it was good too see you happy after his last memory of you. He cleared his throat after a moment and spoke.

“Do you want to talk?”

“Not right now.” You answered as you approached him. “I did, but I don’t, not right now.” You rambled out as your mind became clouded with lust, it’d been so long since you’d had him, you’d not had anyone else, why would you? They wouldn’t give it to you like Tom would.

“Is this a good idea?” He asked quietly as he studied you, you didn’t say anything as you leant up to kiss him, tenderly, far more tender than you’d initially thought you were going to. You both sighed at the contact, you wanted him. He studied you for a moment, looking for a sign of regret and when he didn’t find it he captured your lips again.

This time a little more forcefully, but not by much. You kissed tenderly, carefully, almost like you were remembering each other, basking in the way one another felt against them again. You pushed your lips more forcefully against his and he groaned slightly as your hands weaved into his hair. It was still careful, neither wanting to overwhelm the other.

His hands found a firm place on your waist as he pulled you closer to him, lips growing slowly firmer until Tom’s tongue was tracing your bottom lip and you granted him access. You both moaned in pleasure as your tongues found each other’s after so long, neither of you forgetting how they almost danced together. The sound of your lips finally uniting being the only sound in the quiet flat.

It wasn’t long before Tom had picked you up, carefully, and your legs were wrapped around his waist as he carried you down the hallway and into your bedroom. Your kiss had grown much heavier along the way, your arousal for each other settling in properly as the only emotion left was lust, need for each other. You untucked his shirt as he carried you, hand trailing up his toned back.

His hand was carefully squeezing your waist, grabbing a handful of your arse every so often. You felt him harden against you and you knew he knew how wet you’d be for him when he took your shirts off. He kicked your bedroom door open and when he turned to shut it he pinned you against it.

“Fuck, I’ve missed you.” He was the first to say as he placed kisses along your throat, your hand fisting in the back of his hair.

“Feels like it.” You spoke as you felt his hardened length again.

“Like you’re gonna be any better.” He teased and as if to prove his point he ran a hand up your thigh and into your shorts, running his finger through your folds. “So wet.” He hummed.

He moved you and placed you on the bed, something digging into your back as he did. You moved your hand around until you found whatever it was and when you pulled it out you heard Tom mutter a ‘fuck.’

“Not quite the same but it took the edge off.” You said as you threw it down the side of your bed.

“Thinking about me?” Tom asked as he pulled your shirt over your head. “Did you touch yourself? Thinking about how well I fuck you with my fingers, tongue, cock?” He asked as he took in your braless and now topless figure. He couldn’t get enough of you.

“Always.” You panted when he brought his mouth over your hardened nipple. He hummed in response and it sent vibrations through your entire being. It ignited you in a way it always had, in a way only he could.

“That’s fucking hot.” Tom said as he popped your nipple from his mouth and as you attempted to undo the buttons on his shirt. You grew frustrated when they wouldn’t play ball and sat up, Tom moving with you, he looked at you confused for a second before you quite literally grasped the middle of his buttons and ripped it off, buttons flying everywhere.

“Fuck me.” Tom said, never had he seen you so needy for him, so desperate. It was doing things to him he couldn’t explain, he didn’t have much time to think as you latched your mouth onto his neck and sucked. You knew exactly where his sweet spot was, not hesitating to suck, you moved his now open shirt off his shoulders and it dropped to the floor. It wasn’t until you pulled back, eyes darker, completely consumed by lust that he realised what you’d done.

“Have you just left a mark?” Tom asked, almost astonished, it turned him on to no end. You just shrugged as you laid back on the bed, looking up at him and he swears he lost his dominant side for second. Completely in awe of you.

“Oh baby,” he didn’t miss your breath hitch at the nickname as he regained himself and crawled back on top of you. His own lips found the top of your breast, sucking his own mark onto it. “It’s cute, watching you try and take dominance from me, but we both know who’s in charge, don’t we darling.” He asked as he sat back to look at his handy work. He’d kicked his shoes off by now as he laid on top of you.

“Tom, please.” You begged and he chuckled, completely consumed by desire, the pair of you were by this point. His cock was throbbing for you and he knew you’d be clenching and unclenching around nothing, around the idea of him being inside you.

“What does my princess want? My fingers?” He asked as he made quick work of your shorts, placing a finger inside you that had you rolling your head back and moaning in pleasure. His kisses trailing down your body as he looked up at you through hooded eyes. “My tongue?” He asked as he placed it carefully on your clit. Teasing you by halting all movements, watching you squirm as you tried to create friction. “Tell me baby.” He spoke before oh so slowly dragging his down your folds to meet his fingers and dragging it back up. You sat up to look at him between your legs, god the look on your face was something of pure pleasure in itself.

“All of it, Tom, I just want you.” You panted out and he chuckled as he moved his finger, carefully sliding in and out of you, mindful that it’d been a while and while he knew your own fingers had been inside you, your fingers were smaller than his.

“I suppose it’s been a while. Should fuck you like you deserve to be fucked, the way you’ve missed.” He said and before you could respond his tongue was back on your clit as he sucked and licked at it, watching, and groaning as you threw your head back, body arching off the bed as one hand fisted his hair and the other your bedsheets.

It wasn’t long before you were squirming beneath him as he added a second finger, opening you up for him, your body shaking as you neared your first mind blowing orgasm in almost three months. He could have blown his load just from watching you as you arched off the bed, screamed his name and tightened so well around his fingers as you came. Panting, body shaking as he helped you through it.

He expected you to be all fucked out when he climbed back on top of you, what he was not expecting was for your still just as lust blown and wild eyes looking into his own. You took him by surprise when you pushed him onto his back before climbing on top of him. You didn’t ride him often and when you did, it was never with so much confidence. It was like he’d awakened something primal in you and he fucking loved it.

You made light work of his pants and boxers, straddling him as you confidently took his cock into your hand and placed him inside you. He couldn’t stop the moan that left his lips at the feeling and also the sight. This was not what he was expecting as you placed your hands on his chest and moved your hips of your own accord.

You’d never been shy in bed, not when it came to being beneath him but every time he’d relinquish control and let you be on top you’d ask for his guidance. Not tonight, tonight you were using his cock to get yourself off and he loved it, loved the way it made him feel. He moaned as he gripped your hips, you’d taken control, he hadn’t given it and fuck if it made him almost finish inside you right there.

You moaned as you moved your hips, feeling every inch of him as the angle had him brushing that spot you’d not felt stimulated in a while and it made you almost scream his name as you fucked him. You wee both moaning, sweating and you expected Tom to take control back but he didn’t, he let you have all the control.

“So much for we both know who’s in charge Tommy.” You moaned and you expected a cocky response but none came, just a moan of your name. “Fuck, you feel so good.” You said as you felt your high approach, felt as you tightened around him and it only served to make you moved faster. Tom became something of a moaning mess underneath you, something you’d never seen before and that urged you on as you chased both of your highs.

“Just like that baby.” He said and your eyes rolled back into your head as you felt your orgasm fast approach. “Shit, Y/N/N, I’m gonna come.” Tom moaned and you don’t know what came over you, a feeling of pure power maybe, but you’re glad that it did.

“Come for me Tom.” You whispered, voice laced in lust and command as you placed your lips to his ear, leaning back to watch as his eyes rolled into the back of his head and he moaned uncontrollably, moaning profanities laced with your name. You’d never seen him like this, you felt powerful above him, the ever so powerful Tom Holland reduced to a moaning mess because of you. It urged you to finish chasing your high as you fucked him through his. You collapsed onto his chest, with an almost scream of his name as you felt euphoria wash over you.

“Fuck.” Was all Tom had to say when he came down from possibly one of the most explosive orgasms he’d ever had. He loved being in control he really did, but watching you like that? You could have the control whenever you wanted it.

“Yeah.” You mumbled against his chest as tiredness washed over you. He flipped you over whilst staying inside of you, carefully drawing himself out as he cleaned you both up. Whilst he was busy doing that it gave you time to realise just how much power you had over him. He could have easily taken back the control, shown you who was in charge and he didn’t not even when you practically dared him to.

He came back into the bed as he massaged your thighs that were now aching slightly. You shivered as he did, body feeling sensitive all over after your orgasms. You played with his curls as he rested his head on your stomach.

“Where did that come from?” He asked, amused tone.

“I don’t know.” You said honestly, you didn’t, maybe it was the fact that you’d not been able to have him for three months. Maybe it was the desire to hold power over him, even if just in bed, you weren’t sure but he’d woken something in you that you liked.

“I’m gonna have to let you take charge more often.” He laughed as he continued to massage your thighs, your hands still in his hair.

“How come you didn’t take it back? The control?” You had to ask.

“Didn’t want it, not then. Fuck, you looked you so hot. It did something to me, watching you use me to get yourself off, taking your own pleasure like that, fuck.” He said as he kissed your stomach.

“I hope this doesn’t mean you’ll be a sub now, I’ll miss you railing me into whatever surface we find ourselves on.” You laughed and he joined.

“No, but you can have the control, whenever you want it.” He spoke and it sounded so honest that your heart soared. Tom Holland did not give control to anybody, it wasn’t his style yet here he was telling you could have it whenever you wanted it. That’s how much he loved you, how much you were different to everyone else in his life. It solidified your decision.

“I want to come home.”

**

You’d worked things out between the two of you, a week’s worth of late nights and talking. You’d told him you wanted to be more involved, you didn’t want to shy away anymore, Tom was hesitant but agreed. You asked him to train you, make sure you could a least attempt to defend yourself, although that wasn’t going so well, every time he was teaching you one of you got distracted and you usually ended up underneath him.

Tom liked the change in you, you were tougher, more confident and he wondered what had brought the change. You were still the same woman he fell in love with, the same woman who was kind thoughtful and free but now? Now you weren’t afraid to speak your mind, you commanded a level of respect from his men now and he loved it. He loved everything about you and you him.

It was a month later when you both heard the commotion downstairs, you jolted up. Tom had only had to wake you from a couple of nightmares, they were seemingly leaving you, slowly but surely. Tom placed a hand on your arm, sitting up, your eyes frantically looked for his and calmed when they locked.

Tom got dressed as he made his way downstairs, he was shocked to see Harrison carrying the very man he’d spent just over four months looking for. He was struggling against Harrison but to no avail, Haz had a firm grip around the man’s arms.

“Found him, hiding out in some club.” Harrison spat as he threw the man down at Tom’s feet. He spat blood onto the tiled floor of the mansions entrance.

“Tom! How’d you like your girl? Sent her back nice and pretty for you.” Caleb said, laughing as he did. Tom felt his anger rise again, images of what he’d done to you filling his mind. Tom wasted no time in kicking him in the gut.

“Take him into the living room and tie him up, I’ll be back in a minute.” Tom said, he was going to say goodnight to you, this was going to take him a while. He huffed as he made his way into the bedroom and shit the door.

“What happened?” You asked as you rushed over to him.

“Haz found Caleb.” Tom said and he watched as panic flashed in your eyes for a moment before they found Tom’s.

“What are you going to do?” You asked, voice steady.

“Better question is probably what I won’t do.” Tom said as he took you into his embrace. He held you for a moment and kissed your head. You thought for a moment, this man had been your tormenter, the man who’d taunted you, made you feel heartbroken. This was the last part of getting over what happened to you. “I’m gonna be a while, so I came to say goodnight.” He whispered as he kissed your head.

“I want to come.” You spoke before you could stop yourself.

“What?” Tom asked, voice faltering.

“I want to watch you kill him Tom.” You spoke more confidently as you moved away from him.

“Absolutely not.” Tom said, sure he was willing to let you know about everything in his business, but seeing him deal with someone? No.

“Tom,” you said as you pinched the bridge of your nose. “I need this, I need to see him die. I’ll know it’s over then.” You whispered.

“Sweetheart, you don’t, I know you think you do but you don’t. You’re not gonna wanna see what I’m gonna do to him.” He said firmly.

“Tom, please?” You begged as you looked at him and you knew he was fighting an internal battle within himself. “If it gets too much, I’ll leave, I promise. I won’t think of you any differently, Tom I know you’d never hurt me.” You said, hoping to win him over.

“It’s not for the faint-hearted love. It’s not like in films, this is real life and what you’ll see, what you’ll watch happen it’ll change you. Make you more like me, darken you.” Tom said and you looked at him with all the confidence in world. This was the life you wanted, the life you’d chosen and you didn’t hold a single regret.

“Good.”

[hanoella]

Deserving

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x healer!Reader

Word Count: 2.1k

Summary: When someone bad mouths Bucky in your presence, you set things straight.

Warnings: Angst, but with happy ending, and one vaguely 18+ insult? I'm new.

Speaking of- @wkemeup has inspired me to post my writing for the first time! For their 9k writing challenge, I used this prompt:

"Character A is the target of harassment on the street. Shamed, they pretend it doesn’t bother them. Until it happens in the presence of Character B, who reigns hell on whoever dared to upset [A]"

Enjoy!

..........

Bucky was used to the whispers he got from people the street when he passed by them.

“Is that-?”

“Don’t make eye contact, he’s dangerous.”

“They just let him walk around like he hasn’t killed a bunch of people?”

His enhanced hearing picked up more than he wished it did. He liked to believe it didn’t bother him but deep down it did. It was just one more reason to stay secluded. Isolated. Alone. And he had been successfully doing that.

Until you came along.

Having been the test subject of a super serum version that focused on health and regeneration, you used your healing powers to help the Avengers get back to world-saving shape. Bucky hadn’t been keen on anyone touching him, much less someone he didn’t know. Despite his best efforts, he had caved in when you noticed he was having a bad day with his shoulder and offered to help. Since then, your companionship has been like a guilty pleasure.

You had this way of making him feel like he was the most important person in the world to you. Regardless of what he thought was evident, you only seemed to notice the good in him, even when he protested.

“There’s nothing I can do to right the wrongs that I’ve committed. Redemption isn’t possible. I don’t deserve-”

“Stop.” You said, cutting him off. “You are amazing. You have been through everything that you’ve been through and you still give back to the world. You fight for a world that made you this way, a world that gives you nothing back and yet you fight. It’s the world that doesn’t deserve you.”

Bucky swallowed hard. Looking at you in your eyes, he saw no dishonesty. Only pure admiration.

After that, there was no hope of him being alone. You cracked open his shell slowly but surely and now Bucky couldn’t imagine life without you.

Which led him to his current predicament.

“Come on, please? It’ll be so good and only a few blocks away. I know tapioca sounds gross, but you’ll love it!”

Bucky didn’t know what bubble tea was but apparently it was worth begging him for the past 20 minutes while you worked on his shoulder. Your hands emitted a warm white light as you gently massaged his shoulder. The direct contact wasn’t necessary but Bucky hadn’t complained when you started doing it and it’s become routine every since.

“I don’t know. I know I’m old but I don’t have to resort to tapioca yet.”

Bucky let a moment pass before his lip twitched up into a smile. You feigned annoyance as you cut off the healing and placed your hands on his shoulders.

“How about you go with me and I won’t bill the heck out of you for my magical five-star massages.” You say as you squeeze his shoulders.

“Okay okay, fine.”

Bucky put his hands up in defeat as he got up from the couch he was sitting on and turned to face you.

You swallowed as you let your eyes drift across his chest before you grabbed his shirt from off the back of the couch and tossed it to him.

“Alright! I’m so excited!”

Bucky listened to you chatter on about the different flavors he could try while he put on his shirt. Sometimes, he couldn’t believe he actually had a friend besides Steve. Sure, it helped that you had been Steve’s friend first. But there was something about you having grown closer to him that made him feel special. Never did Bucky think there would be a time that he’d be jealous over a girl that Steve was friends with rather than the other way around. Times were certainly different.

“You coming?”

Bucky broke away from his thoughts and made his way towards the doorway that you were standing in.

“Yeah, let’s go.”

---

Yeah, he knew this was a bad idea.

As soon as you two had left Stark Tower, the whispers started. While the café was only two blocks away, you noticed something was off a block into the trip.

“You alright?” You asked as you tried to decipher his facial expression.

“Yeah. Fine.”

You looked at him skeptically and then shifted your eyes to follow his, glancing around you. You slowly nodded in understanding as you looked at the people around you who were trying not to draw attention to themselves.

“Okay. We can talk about it later.”

Bucky was thankful that most people talked quietly enough so that you couldn’t hear what they were saying.

Keyword: Most.

You two arrived at the café, where it was slightly crowded. It was a warm afternoon, the perfect time to get a cool drink. Before heading inside, you gently placed your hand on his arm for a moment to reassure him.

“If you want, we could look at the menu out here and then I’ll go inside to order it.”

Bucky shifted his weight slightly from one side to the other as he contemplated it.

“Nah. We can go in together.”

“Okay.” you said, gently smiling to hopefully reassure him.

You both enter the building and make your way to stand in line. Bucky looked around at the seating areas. It reminded him of a Starbucks but with a more pastel color scheme. You looked at him and he raised an eyebrow in response. You smiled, happy that he was with you. Bucky’s heart skipped a beat and he smiled back.

That’s when you hear it.

“Is that that Hydra goon? Hey, go back to Siberia you brainwashed Hydra dog!”

You spun around violently the same time Bucky did with an incredulous look on your face, making eye contact with the college aged boy further back in line who was currently sniggering with his friends.

You stalked over to them before speaking in a low even tone.

“Sergeant Barnes has done more for the world than you could ever dream of doing. Apologize.”

You had let the venom creep into your voice, shouting the last word and silencing the rest of the line. Bucky walked up to you and put a hand on your shoulder, trying to turn your attention to him.

“C’mon. It’s not worth it.”

You let out a slow harsh exhale from your nose but didn’t move. The man only sneered.

“Why don’t you scurry along. I don’t care if you’re where he sticks his-”

The next thing Bucky registered was a nasty sounding crack as your fist connected with the jerk’s cheekbone. A round of gasps came from the surrounding crowd as he fell on the floor, completely dazed. You let out a pained grunt as you bent over, holding your hand while trying to cover the white light that started coming over your hand where the skin had bust open and something had definitely cracked.

“Okay, time to go.” Bucky said as he made an executive decision to get you two the heck out of there before anybody could react further. He put his hand on your back and quickly guided you out of the store, walking until you were out of the vicinity and almost back to the tower. You could tell that Bucky was not happy with you since he hadn’t said anything the whole way back. You entered the building and then stood silently in the elevator as it made its way up, refusing to meet his eye.

The elevator dinged as it opened up on the team’s dorm floor. You both walked quickly trying to avoid other people unsuccessfully as Sam stepped out into the hallway from the gym.

“Hey you two, what’re you… What happened to you?” He asked with a furrowed brow, nodding his head towards your hand as you walked past. Bucky and you answered at the same time.

“Nothing-”

“None of your business Sam-”

You gave Bucky a look and started chastising him.

“Hey, don’t be mean to him just because-”

“Keep. Walking.” He said through clenched teeth.

You rolled you eyes and shrugged apologetically at Sam as Bucky punched in the code to your apartment and swung the door open. He nudged you inside and then followed, shutting the door forcefully behind him.

Sam looked down the hall for a moment longer before shrugging it off. Natasha popped her head out into the hallway from the gym.

“What’s all the commotion?”

“Not sure. I think Mr. Tall, Dark and Metal left a few brain cells behind in the pod the last time he was frozen.”

Natasha snorted and then turned back into the gym.

---

Bucky closed the door behind him and then swung his arms out in confusion, giving you the same look of disbelief that he gives Yori when he starts a fight with his neighbors. You gave him the same look back, as if he was crazy for questioning your actions.

“What was that?” He finally asked.

“That guy was crazy! How could I not say something to him?”

“You didn’t have to hit him and hurt yourself! People say stuff like that all the time, you just have to ignore it and move on with your day.”

You stayed silent for a moment, averting your gaze and holding your injured hand that was gently glowing. Bucky gently let out his breath. He closed the distance between you and put his hand under yours to help you support it. His other hand grasped your forearm, gently moving over your smooth skin. He glanced down and watched as the inflammation went away and a bone shifted back into place under your skin.

“Please,” He whispered, his hold on you tightening ever so slightly. “It’s not worth all the trouble. It’s not worth you getting hurt.”

“No.”

Bucky snapped his head back up to see you calm and determined. Speaking again, you look into his eyes.

“It is worth it.”

He blinked twice, not having expected that answer.

“Why?”

“Because if I had let him say what he was going to say. Then to me, it would be validating anyone who has ever said anything like that about you. I can’t let you believe that any of that is true.”

“I don’t believe it.”

“But you do.” You cried out, slipping your newly healed hand out of his grasp and stepping away.

“I can see it in your actions, Bucky. I see it when you deny yourself anything that would make you happy. I see it when you try to hide yourself from the world. I see it when you look at me.” You spoke, voice wavering with the last sentence, averting your gaze again. Bucky stood silent as you continued.

“I see a deep sadness in your eyes. I can feel it in your soul when I heal your shoulder. Or when you touch my hand to see if I’ve fallen asleep. I can feel it emanating off of you. But I know for a fact that you deserve to be happy. You deserve to rest and to be happy. How many times have you fought a fight that wasn’t yours because it was the right thing to do? And don’t say it was to redeem yourself because I know it’s more than that. You are a good man, James. You don’t need to prove anything to anyone. But if you need to prove it to yourself than just take a look at me.”

You gently hold his face and guide it so that he’s looking at you. He’s surprised to find your eyes full of tears, threatening to spill over.

“When you look into my eyes, there is nothing but love and admiration for you. When you touch me, I feel the warmth you leave on my skin. When you hear me speak, you should be able to tell from what I say that I genuinely think you deserve the world. When you are hurting, the only thing I feel is your anguish. It kills me, to see you punish yourself so undeservedly.”

You were whispering now, looking up at him. Bucky’s eyes were watering as well, his jaw clenched in an attempt to hold back his emotions. With your hands still gently caressing his cheeks he slowly lowered his head so that his forehead was resting on yours, swallowing hard.

Bucky lifted his head slightly so that he could look at you and he saw nothing but love. Your eyelashes were wet and shimmering from tears you shed for him. Your cheeks were flushed from the overwhelming feeling that you had for him. He looked into the depths of your eyes and saw only his future with you. Finally, his gaze settles on your lips, soft and supple.

“Please,” you begged. “Please do not ask me to stand idly by as the world tears you apart. You are worth more to me than anything else in it.”

Slowly, his hands touch your waist and slide back until he’s holding you against him. Closing the gap between you, you kiss.

Nothing more in this world could assure him of your love. For once, he believes it.

[yeojaa]

feed me, fight me.

pairing.  boxer!jjk x f!reader.  rating.  explicit.  tags.  relationship issues, baby angst, comfort, unprotected sex (please be responsible!).  wc. 3.5k.  beta reader.  @hobi-gif​, always.  💖  author note.  i’m really into comfort fics rn so... 

What do you get when you mix a pissed off girlfriend with a neglectful boyfriend?  (Aside from trouble, that is.)

The answer is you - throwing punches far harder than you should be, completely disregarding the fact that you’re meant to be playing the part of perfect partner, meeting pads in the sequence he’s laid out.  It’s you throwing a hook when you should be swinging an uppercut.  It’s you, snapping your leg out with a satisfying thunk! of your shin when you should only be thip kicking.  It’s you, not giving a single damn as you take out all your frustrations on someone who’s growing increasingly more irritated by your childishness.  It’s you, blatantly disrespecting him in his ring - sending a reminder that there’s more to life than the four corners of this space. 

How can he blame you though, when he’s the reason?  When you’ve voiced your annoyance more than once - more than twice, more times than you care to count - and each time it’s met with a half-hearted apology (if you could even call it that)?  How can he hold it against you when you’ve asked, demanded, pleaded for more? 

“Cut it out,”  he seethes, quiet, under his breath, irritation igniting his expression, something hot and angry burning in the dark of his stare.  A withering wildfire in an empty field, smoldering coals flickering bright.  It presents itself in how his mouth curls, the hard line of his jaw as bone threatens to snap in half from the tension. 

“Cut what out?”  Your retort is punctuated by the smack of leather on leather, the worn edge of your boxing glove meeting the pad that Jungkook raises just in time to avoid a black eye. 

“What’s your problem?”  How he manages to snipe back - somehow sounding disgruntled by your behaviour - you’re not sure.  All you know is it boils your blood, searing heat within your veins when he effortlessly blocks your next jab.  He knows you well and knows the sport better, predicting each movement as if you’re telegraphing it all with a giant neon sign on your forehead. 

(You probably are.  You’ve never been good at hiding your emotions, pinning your heart on your sleeve, your sadness heavy in your mouth.  They wear you, rather than you it.  A weakness of yours.)

“You’re my problem.” 

“Shut up.”  It’s not the usual exasperated annoyance he levels you with, meaner and paired with a swat of your gloved hand.  He’s not supposed to be countering you, instead only blocking the punches you throw his way. 

(But then again - when did he ever listen to you?  When did he ever do what he was supposed to?)

(It’s not a fair assertion.  You’re just mad.  Livid beyond belief, standing atop this hill that you’ll happily die on.)

“Fuck you,”  you snap, offering the petulant comeback in the same instance you surge forward.  He blocks your jab - sees it coming from a mile away - and goes to block your hook. 

Except it never comes, your knee straightening out instead, hard edge of your shin slamming right into the side of his leg. 

He crumples more out of surprise than anything, eyes wide, all the anger swept away by something closer to astonishment.  It shines impossibly bright in his eyes, turning his entire expression upside down when his knee hits the ground.  By how he falls, you’re sure you’ve hit just the right spot, left his nerve endings buzzing uncomfortably as the feeling leaves the limb. 

“Are you serious?”  You know he’s genuinely baffled then, voice slipping, cracking in a way you’d normally find adorable.  (It goes to show how upset you are, the awkward split of his words doing nothing to soothe your temper.)  “What’s your issue?”  He’s still seated on the floor, rocking back on his heels, brow knit in consternation.  It’d take him seconds to jump up - to put you on your ass - but he chooses to remain where he is, staring up at you with that look on his face.

(That look you love.  That you hate.  That makes your insides turn to goo on his best days and misery on your worst.  That you’ve seen every single day for the last three years, as the first thing upon waking up and the last thing before passing out.  That makes you hesitate now, peering down into it.)

(Were you being unnecessary?  Unbearable?  Was this on you?)

“I’m going home.”  It’d be nice to tear your gloves off, throw them in his face and storm off in a huff.  It’d cause the scene you’re hoping for, push him to where you need.  (Because that’s the thing about Jungkook - he doesn’t react otherwise and you’re sick of it.)  Instead, you turn on your heel and slink away, silent as a mouse.  

You’re tired.  Too tired.  Why had you started something you couldn’t finish?

It shouldn’t surprise you that you’re home alone for hours that night, curled up in bed and half-asleep when light from the hallway spills into your bedroom.  It comes with hardly any noise, a tell-tale sign he’s trying not to wake you (or disturb you or get caught).  You almost let it slide when his figure appears in the doorway, broad frame swallowed up by the oversized sweater he wears.

He’s moving near silently, having already deposited his gym bag in the laundry room.  He doesn’t even switch the light on, moving around in the muted glow of the hallway, fumbling as he strips his clothes off and tosses them into the hamper against the wall. 

You expect him to head directly into the en suite, wash away whatever grime he’s accumulated throughout the day.  He’s always been this way, far too concerned with dragging in odour and dirt into your bed to do otherwise.

Except tonight, he doesn’t follow his usual routine.  Tonight, he makes a detour.

The bed dips before you realise what’s happening, grip on the pillow under your head tightening.  Words fit between your teeth, ready to spill out, lash out, tear out like a bullet deadset on landing a bullseye. 

“I’m sorry.”  Two words you’ve been waiting to hear, that startle you enough to throw your anger out the window, tossing them out with the wash.  “I don’t know why you’re upset but I’m sorry for whatever it is.”  He’s speaking into the quiet of your bedroom.  You can feel his hand settled on the bed, wrist somewhere over the line of your spine.  

Oh - he thinks you’re asleep.

“Things have been crazy.  I’ve been stressed.”  Here, under cover of night, he’s vulnerable, explanation tumbling forth uncertainly.  You can hear it in the way the words form, syllables slipping into each other - a sure sign of his exhaustion.  “I know that’s not an excuse, so I’ll be better.”  Though he readjusts, weight distributing differently over the bed, he isn’t touching you.  You can only imagine how he looks, the posture he’s taken on, arms leant over knees, hands twisting together in that way of his that begs a silent help me.  A version of him you’ve seen only a handful of times.  

(Jeon Jungkook does not let things get to him.  Never has, likely never will.  He’s immaculately put together, strung tight by years of growing up too fast, wanting too much and fearing it’ll slip away.  He goes and goes until he can’t any more and only then does he still, crashing headlong over a cliff of his own creation.)

It’s then that you realise while you’ve grown irritated with his preoccupation, coming second to the man you’ve only ever put first, he’s been suffering right alongside you.  Differently, certainly, but suffering nonetheless.  Holding his cards close as he’s always done, shouldering all the things on his own and hoping for the best.

Irritation flares first.  Anger at the fact that he hadn’t confided in you.  It burns bright, erodes everything else in its path.

And then it dims almost immediately, overshadowed by a tenderness that blooms in the small of your chest.  Rosebuds that fill the cavity and swath affection in broad strokes, colouring everything purple - a pretty mosaic made up of equal parts love and sadness.

“You should’ve said something.”  

Bambi-eyed baby is your nickname for your boyfriend - one he reluctantly wears, scowls at when you use it in public - and yet you’re still blown away by the glossiness of his stare, how wide it goes when you roll to face him, simultaneously flicking your bedside light on.  There’s embarrassment crowding his expression, lighting up every handsome facet of his features in technicolour.  He works to hide it almost immediately, moves back on the bed as if he might find himself a home in the shadows.

“I thought you were sleeping,”  he mumbles, not quite looking at you, stare focused on your pillow case, the white linen that you’d bought when you’d moved in together.  “Did I wake you up?”

Though his concern is real, you know it’s a distraction too.  His way of deflecting, shifting the focus back to you.  

(Jeon Jungkook doesn’t live in the spotlight.  Hates it, in fact.  It’s a curious combination - wanting to be praised, to show off, and yet fearing failure so strongly.  A worrying mix when he’s down and an endearing one when he’s up.)

You’re still cocooned, still held far enough away that he hasn’t run for the hills, locking himself in the bathroom to put a further physical barrier between you.  Should you move too fast, you know he’ll spook.  Push too hard, he’ll leave.  

“Couldn’t sleep without you.”  It’s true enough.  Dreams had evaded you for the better part of the evening, held somewhere by hands inked like his, blemished by scars and calluses like his. They’d been kept in his coat pocket, tucked behind his ear.  (So maybe it’d been anger, too, that’d kept you up.  That doesn’t matter now.)

The disbelief is evident, both in his words and the quirk of his mouth, bathed in dim light.  “Really?”

(You sometimes wonder how different the two of you see things.  What a day looks like from his point of view - whether he reads all of your interactions in the same way.  You’ve always been terribly incompatible in that way, opposites in so many respects that it’d frankly baffled your friends when you’d started dating.

You were intent - sometimes too intent - on resolving problems, never letting up.  Forcing conversations you felt you needed to have, demanding answers even before there was one.  He, on the other hand, was uncomfortable with conflict, choosing to ignore the things that bothered him until they went away.  It’d driven you absolutely insane at first, made you worry that it was you that was the issue, simply being too much.  

But over time - three long years, to be exact - you’d found a common ground.  Or so you’d thought.)

“Why are you so surprised?”  

“You were pissed earlier.”  There’s a lightness to his tone, careful consideration poured into each word he offers, as if he’s navigating a minefield.  You’ve had these kinds of disagreements too many times for him to believe otherwise, as if his caution is a part of him, stitched lovingly - forcefully - by your hand.  “Thought you wouldn’t wait up for me.”  

“I shouldn’t have,”  you retort before you can help it, still just a little childish, a little hurt.  “But you know I hate going to bed angry.”  Of course he knows.  He’s lost hours of sleep due to your insistence that everything be talked out. 

He hums a noncommittal sound - more of a grunt - and you know your window is closing.  Now that you’re not out for blood, he’s retreating as he always does.  Readying himself to rise from the bed, close this half-read chapter and move onto the next. 

You beat him before he can, curling your fingers around his wrist, over the dangling silver chain.  (His birthday gift this year, heavy metal that’s cold under your touch.)  

“Don’t.”

One blink.  Another.  Slow and confused - deliberately so.  Then he’s looking away, staring down at the ground as if you haven’t just read his next move.  The ring might be his domain but home is yours;  it’s the one place you hold the upper hand.  “What?”  

“Don’t leave.”  It’s easy to read the meaning in between your words, the unspoken request that might as well be brilliant red ink.  It’s far kinder than your usual demands, more pleading than begrudging, more need than want.  

“I need to shower.”  

It’s not a no - which you suppose is a win. 

“Just wait.”  Your request comes with an adjustment, whole tired frame rising from the bed only to sink back down - this time against your partner, your other half, your infuriating love.  He accepts you readily, dropping his ink-strewn hand over your covered thigh.  The weight is comforting over the warmth of the duvet, grounding you in the quiet of your home.

“I’m gross,”  he complains, though he doesn’t make to move away.  Stays right by your side when you drop your head against his bare shoulder.  “Now you’re gross.”

“We can be gross together.”  Because you’re not ready for him to leave you, to close the door as he so often does.  (And, for once, you’re not quite as angry, not seeking an argument that’ll give you the resolution you hope for.  You want communication, open and honest.  You want him, vulnerable and soft.)

A little sigh comes, a puff of breath that expands his doughy cheeks and sends wayward strands fluttering.  It’s less resigned and more endeared - you know how much it means when his acquiesces like this.  

Maybe he wants those same things, you think.  

“Do you wanna shower?”  You ask in perfect tandem, words folding together.  You nod in the same way.

Encased in the small space - it’s different.  He’s preoccupied, back turned to you, shielding you from the slow-heating stream.  It’s as if his mind is a thousand lightyears away, trapped somewhere with the stars as the water rains down around the two of you, fogging the glass and wetting his hair. 

“Babe?”  

There’s a delay before he reacts, peering over his shoulder at you, a faraway look in his eyes.  You wonder what he’d been thinking of, whether he’s still on the same page as you or if he’s skipped ahead as he tends to do.  When he speaks, you have your answer, his words flicking through paper to bring you two where you need to be.  

“Can you wash my hair?”  An indulgent treat he rarely requests, one he seldom allows.  He’s far too on the go, jumping from this to that to spend much time like this with you. 

It’s a sign if there ever was one. 

You reach for your shampoo bottle wordlessly, popping the cap and depositing sweet peach-scented liquid into your hands.  They fold into his strands carefully, tips of your fingers pressing into his scalp, delightful bubbles accumulating between your digits.  He doesn’t make a sound but you feel the way he relaxes, practically melting into your touch as you work the cleanser through his roots, careful to keep the suds from descending into his eyes. 

When was the last time you’d done this?  Weeks ago?  Months, maybe?  You honestly can’t recall.  (Not that it matters now.  You’ve found yourselves back here, terribly tender and intimate in the dead of night.  Almost as if no time has passed at all.)

Silence stretches between the two of you.  You don’t even need to instruct him to rinse, running seamlessly through the routine without hesitation. 

Conditioner replaces shampoo, deft fingers combing through the few knots in his feather soft strands.  Though there are hardly any, you know he loves when you take extra care, treating him in ways he’d never ask for otherwise.  He savours these quiet moments of almost-solitude, spoiled rotten by your familiar touch and comforting affection.  

You’d give it every single day if you could.  Had, in fact. 

That’s what’d brought you here, after all. 

“‘m sorry,”  he says - mumbles really - surprising you as you’re working your fingers into the nape of his neck, concentrating on the tension that’s carved out a home beneath muscle and sinew, turned bone iron-clad. 

“For what?” 

Any other time, it might’ve come across demanding, needing an answer that would soothe whatever inadequacy he’d somehow strung your heart up with.  Now, it’s genuine, asked more for him than you.  

You want to be let in.  Need it. 

“Being out of it, I guess.”  It’s a lot for him - admitting this.  “I’ve just been busy and I guess I kind of just—“  The imposing line of his shoulders rise and fall, a mountain range disturbed by the uncertainty in his voice.  

“Forgot about me?”  You don’t mean it meanly.  It’s a simple statement of fact, one the both of you have to face. 

“Yeah.  Something like that.”

You deliberate accepting the apology and moving on, sweeping it under the rug because he’s already come so much further than you’d thought he would.  But that’s not the kind of person you are, so you press just a little more, stand just a little taller. 

“I don’t think I ask for the world, Kook.”  Maybe more than some people.  Maybe less than others.  “If I’m being too much, I’d rather you let me know than shut me out.”

A sigh comes, so heavy you wonder whether he might be Atlas, carrying the weight of the world on his shoulders.  

“No, I know.”  

“Do you?”

(At some point you’d stopped massaging the conditioner in, opting to crowd your hands over his back, working into the knots that run beneath his skin.  He hadn’t been lying - he’s stiff as a board, entire broad form twitching any time you press the pads of your thumbs into a particularly sensitive spot.)

“I thought I’d figure it out myself,”  he reasons, in that oh-so impossible Jeon Jungkook way of his.  “Didn't realise it was taking a toll on you.” 

“On us,”  you correct, not at all tactful.  

“On us,”  he agrees with another sigh, smaller this time, tinged blue with something that feels like guilt and fills up the glass space. 

“We’re a team, you know.” 

(You know he knows.  You just have to remind him sometimes, anchor him with the knowledge that it’s not him against the world.  That you’re in his corner - always.)

“I know.” 

When he turns to look at you - doesn’t even flinch when the sudden movement has you wobbling on your feet, catches you when you stumble - you don’t doubt that.  He loves you just as much as you love him, sees the whole world in the small of your stare.  

“I’m sorry,”  he says again, two hands coming to cradle your face, palms warm over each cheek.  “Just give me some time.”  For what, you’re not sure.  You don’t mind waiting to find out though - willing to weather the storm just to see him happy.  

Jungkook holds you close, threads his fingers through yours and peppers love into the silk of your hair.  Dresses your skin in the heat of his affection and sears his signature into the velvet of your skin, teeth dragging, tongue gliding.  

“Is this better?”  He means how he holds you, how he treats you like porcelain as he fucks you slow and tender, keeps one leg hooked back over his own. 

It’s not that this is the kind of lovemaking you prefer but rather the one you need, with him consuming you wholly, sweetly, filling you with each fluid roll of his hips and nothing else.  No elaborate dirty talk, no overzealous bouncing, just the two of you together, curled against each other like you might not survive otherwise.  

He’s not pushing you to your finish with deft fingers over your clit, not taking his fill with greedy hands.  He’s simply there, with you, feeling every curve of your body as he sinks into your aching cunt and sighs as if he’s in heaven.  (And maybe he is - because where he is could only ever be where you are and you feel like you’re floating, weightless and lovestruck, anchored only to your bed by the hand that squeezes yours and the mouth that purrs your name.) 

“Yes,”  you breathe, exhale in a breath that seems to take all of your effort.  It’s hard to focus when he splits you open so well, fills your pussy and your heart and makes your chest erupt with a kaleidoscope of butterflies. 

“I love you, sweetheart.”

When he says it like that - folds it like a promise and tucks it into the spot behind your ear - you know it’s true.  Even if you don’t always feel it, even if he doesn’t always show it, there’s not a doubt in your mind. 

In all the ways he can, he loves you.  And whether that means enough from one day to the next, you don’t mind sticking around to find out.  Not if it means more of this. 

(Of him, of you, of your life together.)

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