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#YES I'M STILL ON THIS AFTER A YEAR WHAT ABOUT IT
tragedy-of-commons · 3 days
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"You're burning up" + Aventurine?
"You're burning up."
Aventurine doesn't know what else to say, so he goes with those three words. Safe bet - the doting parents in all the movies and sitcoms say it just like that; with care and worry, palm splayed out across the ill's forehead.
And holy hell are you ill.
Collapsed on his lavish sofa, you groan in response, swatting his hand away. "I'm gonna be just fine..."
He's inclined to disagree. You're sweating buckets despite how he'd mashed the thermostat down to its limit - he even had to shrug on a jacket. Perhaps Aventurine would have poked fun at you for your intolerance, but he has enough decorum to hold his tongue. He really doesn't like seeing you so put out, as much as you're welcome to crash here.
"Your poker face could use some work. Save your words, we can hang out another time," he dismisses easily, bracing himself for your incoming opposition. He reluctantly breaks away from your side to amble over to the coffee table, beginning to clean up the remnants of game night.
"No way," in the corner of his eye, he notices you shifting restlessly, "finals are coming up. Won't have time after this..."
Aventurine sighs, sweeping his very nice clay chips into one hand while using the other to click open their case. This time of year, things become almost unbearably hectic. He has exams coming up in a few weeks himself, and though he never needs to study, he always adheres to your modus operandi of 'cram now, cry later'.
"Well, you're not going back to those dorms in that state."
"You sound like a dickhead," you murmur. "You think I wanna live there? Shitty thin walls... shitty dining hall food..."
He chuckles, snapping the case shut and dusting his hands of nonexistent dust. "You're cruder than usual when you're feverish."
Aventurine almost startles when you gasp. "I have a fever?!"
...and you're loopy, too.
He gets you to sit still with the promise of retrieving a fever reducer and some water. Aventurine roots through his bathroom cabinets, combing through his own extensive collection of self-care and skin products to reach where he keeps his medication.
It takes several minutes of crouching down on the tile for him to realize he doesn't have any. He clicks his tongue - well, it seems his own lifestyle has backfired on him once again. Aventurine doesn't get sick often, doesn't spend a lot of time at home, and has enough stubborn resilience to power through any ailment that might plague him.
But for you? The only reason he spends any time at all in this stupidly expensive penthouse?
Yeah, he'll make a quick trip to the drugstore.
When he walks back into the living room with his shoes on and wallet in his pocket, his heart warms. You've somehow slipped into an upside down position, hair spilling over the edge of the cushions. You somehow make it look comfortable, eyes closed and brow free of any creases.
"Does that help your sinuses?" he asks, really only to test if you're awake.
"You smell good..."
Aventurine ignores how those words make him feel, eyeing the door (and where your shoes are lined up neatly against the wall).
"I have to restock on Tylenol," he swallows. "Will you be okay by yourself?"
"Yes," you respond coherently this time.
Before he departs, he cajoles you into another position in case you throw up like that and end up choking - not without some strangely endearing complaints that you'd normally never voice, positive thing you are.
He doesn't get to the inside mat before you pipe up again, making him stop in his tracks.
"C'mere," you cough. "Please, humor a dying star's last wish..."
He really should be going so he can get your temperature down quicker, but leaving you on the sofa while you're about to cough up a lung strikes him as cruel. Aventurine gives into your dramatics - which happen to perfectly align with his own at times - and makes his way over to you.
"What is it? Did I forget something?" he sits down on the armrest, perching there with perfect balance. When you don't respond immediately, an odd little expression on your face, he rests his chin on his fist, pensive.
You hum.
He doesn't expect much; a request for another pillow, a plea for him to turn on a movie for you while he's out. Instead, he's caught off-guard as you throw an arm around his waist and pull, effectively whisking him off the high ground and right into your grasp.
Aventurine initially tenses but settles as you nuzzle closer. You're the only person in the world that can get away with loving him so easily.
"M'sorry I got sick on game night..." you whisper, uncaring that you're spreading your sickness (and your homely oxytocin).
He finds himself not caring much either.
"Do you believe me to be that hung up on you catching a cold?"
Aventurine's heart rabbits cruelly - he's sure you can hear it, with the way you're snuggled against him and whatnot, but maybe he'll get lucky like he always has, and you'll remain oblivious and perfect and unbothered, despite what you do to him.
You sniffle, words thick with exhaustion. "I dunno. Just stay."
He can't. Not just because he has to go pick up that Tylenol, but because he feels like he might die if you keep saying things like that.
"Five minutes," he acquiesces.
Aventurine waits for your celebration of victory, but no such thing comes. You're fast asleep, clinging to him like he's worth something.
He stays for a lot longer than five minutes, only wriggling out of your arms when he's sure you won't wake up to find him gone. When he returns later with his spoils (which also just so happen to include your favorite drink), you're cradling a pillow in his place.
Before Aventurine is your boyfriend or lover, he is a liar.
He is most definitely, unequivocally, one hundred percent hung up on you.
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🏷️: @akutasoda, @aviiarie, @lowkeyren
a/n: modern au because i couldn't possibly resist. just wanted to mention here that u guys absolutely killed it with these quotes. you have my gratitude! also why is he like that. soggy wet cat
event post here
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sonotpattismith · 3 days
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YOURE WRITING IS LIT AMAZING OMG- I had an idea: Sukuna switching in and telling u yuji likes you (romanticly and sexually) and eventually switching back and the aftermath…. 🙏🙏🙏
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Forgive Me for Whatever I Do (Yuji Itadori x Reader)
word count: 4.9k warnings: a teeny bit dark, angst, suggestive content, 18+ a/n: y'all, I think I kind of altered what the original vibe was meant to be for this request, but I am apparently physically incapable of not making a fic angsty, I'm SORRY. Also, this was a bit inspired by Remember You by Dominurmom, link if you wanna listen cause it makes me cry. I hope you all enjoy and please remember my requests are always open! 🥹🫶🏻
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Friends. It was a good word-- a safe word. It was one you had found solace in hiding behind for years. How could you dare risk the beautiful ebb and flow you had found within the days of while you’d experienced with your best friend? No matter the pools of warmth that engulfed your chest with each glittery-eyed smile-- no matter how the both of you had always found your way back to each other whether rain or sunshine-- no matter how much you loved Yuji Itadori. Friends; it was a safe space. 
There was a time when you wanted something more. It was so early on, before you were too scared to lose him yet. When you two had first met, you felt undeniably pulled toward the bright-eyed and charismatic boy. Both of your lives had been overwhelmingly and newly hectic, what with your being thrust into a life of curses and sacrifice. Similarly, Yuji was still coping with the abrupt weight of managing the demon he now shared a body with. It was never the right time. 
So, your timid glances and blushing compliments soon turned into confiding conversations and fierce loyalty. You two fell into the gentle and safe rhythm of a blossoming friendship. Of course, deep down within the confines of your cowardly hearts, you were always drawn to one another. There was always a hope, never communicated, that maybe once your lives found a peaceful medium, you two would no longer need to hide behind the solace of friends.
This certainly wasn’t how you wanted it to happen. 
Yuji had always made it appoint to keep you and Sukuna at opposite ends of his world, in all senses of the phrase. He barely spoke of him to you at all, in fact. It was actually something you argued often with him about, worried about the impacts of keeping that kind of burden locked away would have on him. In typical Itadori fashion though, he wouldn’t even entertain the notion of an argument with you. No, he’d just squint his honey-brown eyes, and flash that bashful smile to you, a half-assed excuse about why it wasn’t that big of a deal falling easily from his lips. 
The truth was though, it was a big deal to him-- a massive one, in fact. After having already witnessed what that counterpart of his could do, the havok it could ensue on those important to him-- nothing scared him more than the prospect of you coming face to face with Sukuna. Yuji felt this fear so much so that he spared you the details. He didn’t want you to think of him in such a way, to know that any part of him was capable of such atrocities. Yes, he’d bear it all if it meant none of it touched you. 
So, when he felt his own body deteriorating rapidly in tandem with the whaling blows of cursed energy courtesy of the special grade the two of you had been cornered by, the thought flickered in the back of his head. Heaving out a pained groan, Yuji’s gaze found yours, and he pushed it back down. But you screamed. You screamed, and he couldn’t help you-- he couldn’t move. You screamed, and he was trapped beneath the concrete pillar that had fallen so unceremoniously over his heaving chest. You screamed, and suddenly, it was his only option. 
“Sukuna!”
The King of Curses was not one for favors, especially not for the brat that held him hostage in what was meant to be his vessel. He assessed the situation before him-- the one he’d been watching intently from the safety of his own shrine. Through his insolent vessel’s eyes, he could only see you. It was all the brat would look at, you were all he ever looked at. Whether it be the back of your head, hair swaying gently as you’d turn to smile at him, and Sukuna would always feel the boy’s heart clench fouly at the sight. On some occasions, you’d be looking right at him, your eyes with stars behind them, and the demon wanted nothing more than to rip them right from their sockets simply for the way his vessel would tremble under your gaze.
Pathetic. 
Maybe if the brat had been looking toward something else for once, they wouldn’t have been in this predicament. But he was racing toward you at every chance he got, taking blows that were meant for you, countering attacks that you had antagonized. He couldn’t understand how someone could be so weak.
So, he laughed. In the back of Itadori’s frenzied mind, Sukuna cackled at him. The boy whispered a plea, tears stinging his eyes as he watched you stumble to your feet in a grave attempt to escape the repeated blows being landed on you. 
“Anything, I’ll do anything, please!”
The demon liked the sound of that. Yuji could feel the control slipping away from him, his consciousness being sucked up by the all consuming darkness lurking within. For just a moment, he fought against it, staring up at you in an almost drunken haze. 
“I’m sorry. Please,” He called out to you, voice hoarse and morphing into one you didn’t recognize. “Just look away.”
In mere seconds, the boy you loved was shifting before your eyes. His features were sharpening; sinister, black marks pooling onto his skin like ink. The second set of eyes below his own snapped open, and they were looking right at you. Maybe, Sukuna thought, if he saw it for himself he’d understand, without the barrier of this boy’s soul in the way. Still, as he stared into your fearful eyes, he felt nothing but indifference-- no-- disgust. 
Jagged chunks of concrete rubble sliced through the air around you, knocking into your already weak body, some even slicing through the special grade in front of you. Blinking back the dust that invaded your sight, when your eyes opened again, the curse was desecrated; an explosion of grotesque, purple evidence of what it once was. 
Sukuna didn’t care to save you. What enticed him more for the approximate two minutes he had left in control of this body, was breaking down the brat a little. In all fairness, when you stood there so helplessly, so vulnerable with eyes full of fear before him, how could he resist? His impossibly sharp teeth flashed under the moon’s light as he stepped toward you, torn shirt hanging loosely off his shoulder and chest. 
You wanted to apologize to Yuji, to tell him that you tried to look away like he’d asked. It wasn’t a fair request though. No, not when your best friend, the boy you loved, was being held hostage. You feared if you looked away he might do something awful to him-- unaware of what lurked in the dark chasm of his thusfar imprisoned mind. 
“I’ve gotta say,” Sukuna’s gravelly voice reached your ears. It didn’t hold that playfully boyish cadence you had come to love. In its place was one that mocked you, laughing boisterously in the face of your trembling fear and anticipation of what he’d do next. “In the flesh, you’re pretty underwhelming.”
You gulped down the bile that threatened to rise from your stomach. Still crumpled on the ground from the last hit you’d taken, you weren’t sure if you should attempt to stand; unsure if he’d find that acceptable. Sukuna tilted his head at your silence, taking two slow and calculated steps forward. 
“Disgusting.” He spat suddenly, gripping you by your elbow to haul you up. You yelped in surprise, trying not to shed the tears that welled in your eyes at the sting of his nails against your skin. “This brat spends day in and day out allowing himself to be consumed. And for this?”
Your brows furrowed at his words, and you pulled against his grip. 
“Give him back.” You gritted through your teeth, fear igniting your body in tremors. 
Sukuna’s red eyes, all four of them, lit up sinsiterly, grin widening in a manner that appeared painful. You realized for that split second that he likely didn’t have much time at all to wreak havoc, and he was enjoying this. He wanted to hurt you-- to hurt Yuji, even with the limited scope of his abilities at the moment. 
“How romantic.” He cooed mockingly. His hand came up to grasp your jaw, forcing you to look into the eyes of your best friend, but he wasn’t there. Your stray tear betrayed you, slipping down your mangled cheek. Leaning forward with gusto, he licked a debauched stripe up the path your traitorous tear had taken, cackling madly as the salt tainted his tongue. Pushing you back a bit, his voice was suddenly booming, cracking at your abused eardrums with fervor. “All day!”
You tried to keep your face neutral, to be unwilling to give up the shred of dignity you had left-- for Yuji. 
“All day this brat pines and trembles and burns with the thought of you-- pathetic!”
For a moment, you felt your heart stop at his words. Surely he wasn’t implying that Yuji, even in the slightest sense, saw past more than just your friendship. You knew you shouldn’t. It wasn’t him, but your lips were moving to a different rhythm than your mind was, and you were whispering to him in hushed bewilderment, 
“What?”
“And you’re so stupidly oblivious, too? How revolting.” Despite his disgusted words, the baleful smile on his face grew that much wilder. It struck you then, how much you had disconnected yourself from the fact that the body before you, holding your body weight up with a deafening grip on your jaw, was Yuji. You didn’t see him. When you looked at that pink hair and felt the familiar curves of his hands, he wasn’t your best friend. “I suppose you’re not the only ignorant one. I can practically feel the way your weak little heart pounds everytime that brat looks at you.”
Your cheeks were burning at this point, and if he couldn’t see it in the dim moonlight, he could surely feel the heat under his mean fingers. Blinking away your tears, you willed your lip to stop trembling. 
“He doesn’t know it, you know.” Sukuna chuckled, spurred on by your painful silence. “I spend all day having to listen to him whine about his unreciprocated, little love-sick infatuation.”
It was making your stomach churn, the way he was turning your feelings for one another, ones that you were only now becoming privy to, into something so revolting. The words falling from his lips were ones you prayed so long to hear. You had spent so many sleepless nights staring back at your best friend where he laid sprawled out on the other side of your bed, both of you too traumatized from the day’s monstrosities to sleep alone-- to leave each other. This isn’t how you wanted to find out though. 
Amongst the desecration of your normal lives, you wanted to grasp onto the hope of innocence, of pure and untouched love and fondness. You hoped for bashful confessions and spontaneous kisses, ones that were purely Yuji’s intent. Sukuna was snatching the opportunity right from beneath you two, and he knew it. 
You shook your head, or tried to with the grip that was forcing your gaze on him. 
“My days are filled with his insolent whining, and I don’t find solace at night either.” If you didn’t know any better, you’d think by the eager way he was spilling these thoughts out to you that he was happy to spend his fortitude in such a manner. You did know better though, and you knew what he enjoyed was the chance of domestic normalcy he was ripping away from the boy that held him hostage. “No, he touches himself at night.”
“Stop it.” You spat, unable to hold back the dam of your tears any longer. They spilled freely down your cheeks, and you swore you could see his red eyes roll into the back of his head. Your weak hands came up in a desperate attempt to shield your ears from the intimate secrets Yuji likely never intended for you to hear-- not like this anyway. The hand that held your jaw quickly fell, and he laced his fingers through yours mockingly, forcing you to listen. 
“That brat thinks of you all night when he’s beating himself off like the degenerate he is. Sometimes he calls out your name too, when he--”
You couldn’t take it anymore, feeling as though you might throw up. Above all else, your heart ached for Yuji, and you wondered if he could hear what was going on, if he was clawing his way out. You wanted to apologize to him, tell him you never meant to find out this way. You wished you could forget.
“Yuji!” 
Your cry made the demon smile, but it quickly faded with a knowing furrow of his brows. Eyes drooping lazily as he looked toward you, he shook his head. The marks on his face were slowly absorbing back into his skin. His upper lip curled in disgust. 
“Pathetic.”
In an instant, he was falling to the floor limply, bringing you down with him. When you looked up in a frenzied haze at the head that fell onto your chest, you noted with relief that it was Yuji again. His eyes fluttered open deliriously, taking in his surroundings. Looking up, he was met by your grief-stricken expression, fresh tears clinging to your face. His freshly healed arms were pulling himself up clumsily, hovering over you in a way that made it obvious that fear was gripping at every nerve in his body. 
“What— what did he do? Are you okay?” 
It was Sukuna’s very intention, the manner in which you had no choice but to see Yuji so differently now. As he hovered over you, unintentionally entrapping you under his tensing arms and bare chest, you couldn’t help but blush as the curse’s words rang in your mind. The thought of the boy you’d dreamt about for so long thinking of you in such a way, touching himself to the thought of you, longing for you-- and he was right there within your reach. 
“You… you don’t remember?” You whispered, trying to calm your racing heart. 
Yuji quickly shook his head, his comforting brown eyes tracing down your body as if to assess the damages. When his hands molded around your waist to pull your shirt up, the one that was slowly flooding through with blood from the gash on your side, you gasped and flinched away. He gulped back his nausea at the racing thoughts of what Sukuna could have done to you to warrant such a response. His hands reeled back to his sides, and he sat back on his knees. 
“I got pretty messed up back there… I think I was still healing.” he explained slowly, wanting so badly to help you, but unsure of how you viewed him now-- how scared you were of him. What he didn’t know was that you weren’t scared of him, not at all. In fact, you wanted to pull him in, hold him close, tell him that you’ve loved him all this time as well. It should have been an idyllic occasion. In the back of your mind though, you knew if Yuji hadn’t confessed to you himself already then there was likely a reason, and you shouldn’t force the decision onto him just because the curse residing in him ripped away the layers of protection that shrouded those feelings. “Please, I’m sorry. What did he do to you?”
He didn’t remember, and maybe it was better that way. At least one of you could be spared the humiliation. It took some time, but you had convinced Yuji that you were simply shaken up from the fight, though you felt he still wasn’t entirely convinced. His movements were painfully careful as he carried you to safety. It was so clear in the way he touched you with such delicacy, that he feared scaring you more than he thought he already had. 
You stared up at the ceiling that night, tears clouding your vision as you toyed with the edge of the gauze that wrapped your abdomen. In all the time you two had known each other, you couldn’t wrap your head around why he was so scared of opening up to you about the monster he shared a body with. Countless nights you’d spent after missions, as he stared unblinkingly at a wall, begging him to confide in you. In just under five minutes with the thing though, you understood the cruelty he was trying to protect you from. 
There was a soft knock on your door, and you lifted your head up as it slid open. Yuji stood tentatively at the entrance, looking like the absolute picture of health compared to your mangled self. He was scratching at the back of his head awkwardly, a little quirk you’d grown to love, much like everything else about him. Flashing you his attempt at a bashful smile, he tilted his head at you. 
“Thought you could use some company.” He offered. It was somewhat of a routine of yours to meet together after a particularly grueling mission. The two of you would lay in bed, facing each other with moronic smiles on your lips as you talked about everything-- everything but the horrors you’d witnessed. It was the only way you could find yourself calm enough to fall asleep. If you two talked each other’s ears off about the comparable strength of two manga characters, or argued halfheartedly over what was the superior horror movie in your already trash-fire line up, if you distracted one another line by line-- the two of you would forget about what you saw. Just long enough to allow your eyes to forcefully drift in exhaustion. 
Now though, as he stared undecisively at you, you could tell he wasn’t sure if he would still be allowed such privileges. Despite being lost in the labyrinth of your own mind over the night’s events-- over him-- you smiled softly for his sake and patted the spot beside you. Your breath hitched as he eagerly closed the door behind him and climbed into bed beside you. His sigh of relief fanned over the side of your face despite his attempt at concealing it. You felt his eyes on you, his body already on its side and facing you, awaiting for you to do the same. 
“Oh, your side.” Yuji sighed in ackowledgement, and you simply nodded in agreement, not wanting to reveal that you simply couldn’t look him in the eyes without bursting on the spot. Your teeth sunk into your bottom lip as he reached out to softly graze his hand over the wounded area. The boy saw the way your breath hitched and your expression shifted, slowly retracting his hand. “Listen, I’m sorry for whatever happened back there. Please, look at me.”
A little piece of your heart broke off at the pained desperation in his tone. Blinking back the tears that threatened to form, you turned your head to the side to look in his wide, distraught eyes. Softening your gaze, you struggled against your pain as you forced yourself on your side to face him. 
“No, Yuji, it’s okay--”
“No it’s not!” In an instant, he was sitting up, looking down at you as his chest heaved with purposeful breaths. “He’s taken everything from me, and I…”
His shoulders slumped, and a rosy tint rushed to his cheeks. 
“I won’t let him take you too-- I can’t. So, please, just tell me what I have to do to make you not scared of me anymore, and I’ll do it, okay? I’ll do anything.”
Unable to take it anymore, you moved to sit up with a grunt. Yuji’s hands quickly shot out to help you until you were facing him. He looked back at you with such conviction, such longing in his gaze, and, with hindsight bias, you wondered how you never saw it sooner. 
“You’re my best friend, Yuji… I’m not going anywhere.” 
“Then why can’t you look me in the eyes?”
You pursed your lips, tentatively taking his hands into yours to hold them between you two. His breath hitched ever so slightly at the connection. Scraping your thumb over his knuckle absentmindedly in a manner that was scrambling his brain like eggs, you thought carefully on your next words. 
“You don’t think anything could ruin our friendship… right?” You asked timidly, eyes meeting his through your lashes. His brows furrowed at your question, and he found himself leaning forward to gaze into you sincerely, shaking his head quickly. 
“Nothing. Don’t you think we’ve been through too much together already? You’re kinda stuck with me.”
The hesitantly joking tone in his voice made you smile softly. Yuji had a way of easing your anxiety that way, as if there was a little door in your mind that only he had the key to open up and gaze into whenever he pleased. It gave you more confidence to continue your pursuit.. 
“And there aren’t any secrets between us? Nothing you’ve… not told me?”
Gulping thickly, he felt his face pale. There was something he was keeping from you, something he had come to terms with being content with if it meant he’d never put your relationship in jeopardy. An attempted smile broke into his face, but the corners of his lips were twitching anxiously. You could have melted at the sight. 
 “Uh… no. You know I tell you everything.” The lie stumbled from his lips unconvincingly. Your lips set into a firm line as you shot him a knowing yet playful look. Suddenly, his eyes were darting everywhere but you. They were at your hands, on your nose, on the ceiling, anywhere that would allow him to gather his thoughts. “Is this about the dent in your bathroom wall? Cause I promise I have a good explaination, a-and I was going to tell you, but you were already upset about the--”
“I love you.” It fell from your lips, permanent, unable to be drawn back in. In truth, the both of you could have died that night. Yuji was practically pinned under a building, and you had been face to face with the king of curses. The sentiment of either of you dying without having heard the depths of your feelings for one another was not lost on you. The lifestyles you led were perilous, self-sacrificing, and morbid. You already lived in fear that your next mission would be your last, and, as you were blanketed by the comfort brought upon by the proximity of the boy you loved so dearly, you couldn’t bring yourself to feel this type of fear too. Not for Yuji. 
“Take it back.”
Okay, maybe his blunt order hurt more than the boulder that flew into your side earlier, but you still stood by what you said. A small, breathless gasp fell from your lips as you stared at his solemn expression. 
“Oh,” you muttered out meekly, and, despite your burning embarrassment, you couldn’t tear your eyes from his. “I’m sorry, I just—��
“I wanted to say it to you first.” He reiterated, his lips pulled to the side in frustration, eyebrows furrowed as he regarded you. “I spent years thinking of what I wanted to say to you. Take it back.” 
Relief flooded your system like a drug, flowing through your veins and relaxing your constricting muscles. In its place came a bashful flush at his words. Smiling softly in disbelief, you shook your head a bit.
“Okay,” you drew out slowly, watching him square his muscles back as if preparing for his line. “I take it back.” 
Despite his previous determination and insistence that he had something profound to say, all he could do was lean forward to press his lips against yours clumsily. He couldn’t help himself, not with the way your twinkling eyes stared up at him expectantly, glimmering with an excitement he felt he was alone with for years. A muffled huff of surprise from you was swallowed right up by his eager lips as he lunged forward to deepen the connection he’d just forged. 
“‘M sorry,” Yuji mumbled against your mouth, reaching up to grip at the side of your face as if you’d ever run from him. “Know I talked all that shit, but I forgot what I was gonna say. I love you. I just love you. I’ve always loved you.”
He didn’t allow you any room for a response because his desperate push against your lips had you leaning back to accommodate the sudden weight, and you fell back against your pillow. The boy eagerly chased you, crawling over your panting form to pour out all the soliloquies he longed to spill out to you with some semblance of eloquence, he wanted it all conveyed to you through his frenzied devouring of you. 
Your mind was reeling with his sudden urgency, and you quickly came to the realization that the both of you had been living with this fear of passing one another up. Your hand snaked up to run along his chest, daring to explore up his neck and into the tufts of his pink hair. A soft moan of your name had you blushing profusely, suddenly remembering what Sukuna had told you about the extent of Yuji’s desires for you. You wondered if this was what he sounded like when he called out to you at night with his hands wrapped around himself. Squinting your eyes, you willed your imagination to take a quick u-turn, remembering that that wasn’t information Yuji had given up willingly. 
“Say it back.” Yuji suddenly demanded, finally tearing away from his assault on your lips to stare down at you determinedly. “Say it again.” 
Your free hand came up to cup his cheek. There was so much fear and guilt and sadness pent up in your chest at the prospect of what Sukuna had taken from him that night. It had never been like you to lie to him or keep things from him. As your thumb ran across his bottom lip lovingly, and he looked so accomplished, so content with how this night had somehow progressed in his favor, you realized that the curse hadn’t taken anything from him. Not when you were there to make sure that kind of hatred never touched him. 
“I love you too, Yuji.” 
His wide, boyish grin lit up the dim room. Swinging back down with fervor, the two of you laughed against each other as your teeth clashed messily. Humming contentedly, his wandering hands traveled down your side and snuck up your shirt. God, he’d dreamed of this for so long, and you were right there- underneath of him and pliable to his every touch. He knew he was getting ahead of himself, he could feel it in the way his boxers tightened uncomfortably against him, but he feared he may wake up at any second back in his dorm room alone, like he had so many times following his messianic dreams about what it may be like to have you. 
As his fingers creeped up, you flinched against his fervent grasp that lit your wounded side ablaze. Yuji was suddenly reminded of the night’s events, and he cursed quietly before reluctantly pulling away from you. Looking down at your flushed cheeks and swollen lips, an unbrittled exhilaration swirled in his chest. There would be so many more nights with you, he would make sure of it. He leaned forward to press a last, longing and solemn kiss against your forehead-- a promise that you two would come back to this. 
Carefully, he pulled his grasp away from your wounded side and settled down beside you. Unlike those countless nights the two of you shared a bed, Yuji laid snuggly against you, locking your knees under his strong legs. With his head propped up on his elbow, he beamed down at you, lovestruck as he affectionately tugged your shirt back down. As his fingers lingered against the protruding gauze, his expression creased a bit.
“You… you never told me what Sukuna did.”
Although he hated that he felt the need to ruin the moment with such dark thoughts, no amount of lust could have driven that fear from the back of his mind. Your smile faltered marginally at his words. Thinking of how excited he was to confess to you, and how ardently he fell into this new role so comfortably with you, exploring you with an innocence that was a stark contrast to the dark world you two traversed, you shook your head. Leaning up to press an assuring kiss to his cheek, you looked right at the slits under his eyes, as if daring the curse to acknowledge you. 
“He didn’t do a damn thing.”
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Batman: Who's that over there?
Nightwing turns around to see Red Hood standing a few feet away from him.
Jason: Hiiiii!
Nightwing: That's Jason... We're cool now.
Jason: Heeey!
Nightwing: He's neat for a brother.
Batman: He's... You're on good terms?
Nightwing: Well... Jason are we on good terms?
Jason: ...Eh, 50/50.
Nightwing: 50/50 there you go. Took sometime, but we've been hanging out and he's a good kid so far. He's neat. Jason I said you're neat.
Jason: ...Aww thanks man!
Batman: The man who killed and tried to kill Joker and attacked you... Is neat?!
Nightwing: Yup, you adopted an 8 year old who watched his parents die in the circus. My brother is a mercenary who likes reading classic literature and was brought back from the dead by the Ghul's tossing him in the Lazarus pit.
Jason: Did you tell him about the pit?!
Nightwing: Yes!
Jason: Nice.
Nightwing: He wanted to come with me for the mission. He promised he won't kill anyone. Right Jason, you won't kill anyone?
Jason: Just a pew pew to the non-kill body parts. Yeah.
Nightwing: Non-lethal shots.
Jason is busy spinning his gun around like a child and dancing ready for the mission.
Batman: He's not coming with us.
Nightwing: He said you can't come!
Jason: But it's been years, we can laugh at the time he threw a batarang at my neck. I'm cool with it! I got a cool scar!
Nightwing: See he's cool with it, he has a cool scar.
Batman: Stop repeating what he says!
Jason: I'm going to come over now!
Batman: Don't walk over here. Don't walk over here.
Jason walks over and stands next to Nightwing.
Jason: All right, let's go.
Batman: Nope. I'm taking Robin and were doing this alone.
Jason: Oh is it still Tim, please be Tim.
Nightwing: You do not like that kid. It's like a hateship with you too.
Jason: Yeah I like messing with him.
Jason follows Batman to the batmobile and looks through the front passenger window then opens the door and yanks Tim (as Red Robin out of the car).
Jason: Your mom says hi.
Tim growls and attempts to swipe at Jason, but Batman holds him back.
Tim: Let me at him! You and me! I will wreck your shit!
Batman: Let it go!
Tim: Come on! I will beat your ass!
Jason: Hey man you ain't got to make empty promises I know you're lying!
Nightwing: Jason.
Jason: I'm done. I'll be waiting in the car. This was fun.
Jason laughs walking back to the car. Nightwing walks over to Batman and Tim and pats Tim on the head.
Nightwing: He's easy going and nicer.
Tim glares at Nightwing then crosses his arms angry.
Nightwing: I'm not doing this with you two he is trying to go on the sort of straight and narrow and he offered to drive so that helps because my car is in the shop. This was the only way that I could bring him since you're being stubborn how's that broken nose healing by the way?
Batman: How's yours?
Nightwing: Didn't break it you can't break perfection. Sorry.
Tim chuckles as Batman holds him. Batman groaned dropping the teen.
Nightwing: After we saved you from Freeze you promised you'd hear him out... And then never showed up to the intervention. I know how you are, being Batman is your job. You will talk during this fucking job if I have to tie you both up and trap you in a fucking saw-type warehouse. Okay? I am at my limit! Starfire notices and that has made the bedroom difficult, you two are going to talk and make up! Got it!
Batman: I-
Nightwing: GOT IT!
Batman: Okay, when this plan fails, just get ready to say I'm right.
Batman walks off. Tim stands up, wiping dirt off his suit.
Tim: I'm not mad at you Nightwing. I hate Jason currently, but I trust your word implicitly.
Nightwing: Thanks Tim that's why I like you.
Tim: Awesome.
Batman: Robin, bring your ass!
Tim: I gotta go, we'll meet you there.
Nightwing: Gotcha.
Nightwing heads back to his as Jason is playing Death Metal.
Jason: Ready?
Nightwing: Yeah he said you can go and that "when the plan fails I better get ready to say he was right".
Jason: Expected. Seat belts on, Dickie. I'm going to be driving fast.
Nightwing (clicking on seatbelt): Expected.
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howlingday · 21 hours
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Jaune: Hey, Yang, have you thought about who you'd wanna marry in the future?
Yang: Yeah, but I'm not telling you just yet.
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Yang: (At the altar, Next to blond man)
Qrow: So, uh, where's your groom, kid?
Yang: Huh? HEY! (Turns from Taiyang) YOU'RE SUPPOSED TO BE UP HERE!
Jaune: (Stands from seat) Sorry, sorry!
Qrow: Do you take Yang to be your wife?
Jaune: Well, I mean... Not really- AGH! I mean, yes!
Qrow: And do you take Jaune to be-
Yang: Yeah, obviously!
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Jaune: (126yo, Stares at old wedding photo) Seems like only yesterday... I miss her so much... It's been a 101 years...
Yang: (126yo, Slaps shoulder) Miss me for what? I'm still alive and kicking over here! You're not allowed to die before OR after me, y'got it?
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brucewaynehater101 · 2 days
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After Brucequest, Tim just… doesn’t come back. He doesn’t fake his death necessarily- he actually ends up making a blog where he uploads photographs he’s taken (of course, they’re all old photos, from years and years ago, so it doesn’t help anyone find him) just so that his identity isn’t “dead”.
But he just never goes back, and the Bats have no idea where he is. No way to track him. No way to contact him. No way to know he’s actually okay.
(Maybe one day, they find him. But then what?)
Yes. 100%.
The only issue is Ra's an his retaliation. For this to work, Tim would either need to stop/prevent the retaliation somehow outside of Gotham, or there needs to be none in the first place.
And what's Tim doing in the meantime? Did he escape being a cape? Did he retire? Does he become a very secret (not even known) vigilante somewhere? Is he stationary or is he traveling?
I'd like to imagine part of the issue with finding Tim is that he assumes multiple identities at the same time.
[I'm using a random name generator]
Grace Roman a foreign exchange student in England
Flynn Freeman a traveling buisnessman
Ida Berry a resident in Greece
Jerome Levy a rich kid traveling different countries on his parent's dime
Etc. He develops entire backstories, likes, dislikes, personalities, relationships, etc. based on these identities. He sheds them and picks them back up with a dizzy frequency.
I think he'd still help people, but he spends his time exploring. He meets a ton of people, gets wisdom from around the globe, brings his camera to take pictures, and maybe visits some of the places his parents gushed about. He spends a ton of time healing, learning to live with himself, and discovering what he truly wants.
After a few years, when the pain of betrayal and being wronged aren't as prominent, he stops hiding. He doesn't return, but he allows them to find him if they want to.
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Drabbles: Pajamas and Slumber parties
It was a gag gift. A funny group thing Yuu saw on Magicam.
So with little money they had, Yuu ordered the silly thing online for the next time the first years and them had their slumber party at Ramshackle dorm.
When time came and the first years opened up the gift, they cackled at their friends reactions.
"What the Sevens is this Prefect?!"
Yuu just laughed, reminding them that they called the shots tonight.
The first years, when they got together, friends as they may be, always got into a fight which resulted in some damage to the Ramshackle. Whether it was tossling over who gets to pick the movie, fighting over who gets to use the only functional bathroom first, or what time is lights out.
It was chaotic.
So, to lessen future damage, they had made a comprise that every meeting a new person calls in the shots and gets to decide how the slumber party would go.
It just happens to be Yuu's turn. So the Prefect decidedd in a fun friendly activity such as wearing matching pajamas...which is customized, the front having the printed photos of all of the first years in a collage, while the back had " If lost, return to Yuu" embroidered for the rest of them, except for Yuu who had "I'm Yuu" embroidered instead. Ofcourse, Grim has his pajama,too!
"I'm gonna burn this"
"Don't you dare, Ace!"
"This is ridiculous!"
" Its the least you could do after breaking my coffee table in a brawl last time, Epel!"
"This is undignified!"
"Be a good guest, Sebek. Thats not pretty noble of you!I'm the host and I also call the shots tonight"
"Thank you, Prefect..uh..I'll make sure to treasure this !"
"I'd rather you wear it, Deuce."
"I'm out..."
"Jack, fair is fair. We did cactus cultivating last time."
*Defeated sigh*
"I look uncool!"
"No way, yes you do Grim! You're ultracool!
"Its great prefect, thank you!"
"Finally, someone appreciates my work. Thanks Ortho!"
Also, imagine there's another emegency and Crowley just poofs the prefect away from their dorm to their office, but takes the other first years with them cuz magic.
*First years, Grim and Yuu in their silly pajamas, faces covered in facemasks while still holding unto game controllers*
*Crowley, yapping away, doesn't care about the state he poofed them in *
*Dorm leaders and vice dorm leaders, who were also called in for an emergency meeting, staring at their respective first years*
It looks like this but imagine the first years faces instead of the dog. And the cat pawprints instead.
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Ok I just saw your Vamp!Rhys brain rot headcanons post and I'm letting you know right now if you do not develop them into full blown chapters for Vamp!Rhys I'll literally sue for emotional damages ok thank you <3
lol I suppose I can make that happen ;)
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Ancient Recipes
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The bed is, surprisingly, empty when you awaken, the last rays of evening light filtering in through a crack in the curtains. Your hands brush absently through the cold sheets as if they could tell you where he’d disappeared off to. He’s not usually up this early.
With a yawn, you slide out of bed and yank on one of his discarded shirts, leaving the silky button down open down the middle in a half-hearted attempt at decency before padding off in search of him. 
The library and game room is empty, the curtains pulled tight, the air a little stuffy. You can hear Cassian snoring from behind his closed door and a tendril of shadow still guard’s Azriel’s door handle, telling you that he’s not off with either of them this early.
Eventually, you find yourself wandering down into the kitchen, expecting it to be empty too, but figuring it’s worth a shot. You’re surprised to find Rhys bent over the stove, shirtless, sleep pants slung low over his hips as he carefully chops a mix of vegetables. His ears twitch as you walk towards him, a sure sign that he hears your approach. 
“You’re supposed to be sleeping,” he says without turning. You can hear the pout in his voice without seeing the purse of those full lips you love so much.
“Missed you,” you say as you slide your arms around his waist and bury your head between his shoulder blades.
He sets the knife down long enough to run a hand over where yours hold his waist. “I was coming right back.”
You place a kiss against his spine before leaning around him to get a better view of what he’s doing. “I didn’t know you could cook?”
“I am a thousand years old, Darling,” he purrs. “That’s a long time to not learn how to prepare a meal.”
There’s an old, hand written book propped up against the stone wall, the swirling script fading under the cruel hands of time in a language long forgotten. The pages are brittle and yellow now, the date written in the corner nearly illegible. 
“What are you making?”
Skilled hands throw in diced vegetables and dried herbs into a pot simmering with some sort of red sauce. “Something my mother used to make me,” he says softly. “These are her recipes.”
Your chest tightens. He’d told you about the hunters that had killed his mother and sister not long after that night when those hunters had come for you. He’d, understandably, been on edge since, the encounter bringing up a lot of old memories he hadn’t touched. It’s little surprise that he would try and find some solace here.
“Smells good,” you say. 
He twists and pulls you in front of him, so you can watch as he works. “Can’t find all the right ingredients,” he frowns. “Some of these spices have been lost to time. I think these will work instead. Hopefully.”
Rhys dips a wooden spoon into the bubbling liquid and brings it to your lips, “Try this for me?”
You give it a second to cool before taking a taste, the mixture both earthy and spicy, but deliciously warm. “It’s good!”
“Yes, but is it right?” He insists.
You tilt your head up to look at him, brows raised, “How would I know, Rhysand? By the sound of it, most of the things you’re missing were lost to the world before my parents were even born.”
You think if he was capable of it he might have blushed against the mistake. Instead, he kisses the top of your head. “I suppose I could ask Az.” He licks a bit of the mixture, frowning as he goes, before putting the spoon directly back into the pot. Apparently a key ingredient in ancient recipes is a little bit of saliva. 
A moment later, the shadowy vampire emerges, summoned for this oh so important errand. Azriel’s dark hair is sleep tousled, shadows swirling lazily around his bare shoulders. Any other morning with the two males looking like this you would have climbed them like a tree, but this morning is apparently for other things, as Rhys nearly flings the spoon in Azriel’s direction. 
“What am I missing?” He demands.
Az takes a taste and spits it into the sink. “What did you do?!” He all but shoves the two of you out of the way to reach for the spice rack in the cupboards above your head. “Your mother would have beat you with that spoon.”
“I know!” Rhys huffs. “What did I forget?”
Azriel starts opening old jars of dried herbs and adding them into the pot. “Egg and thyme for one thing, dumbass.”
Rhys grabs the book off the counter and looks more closely at the recipe, keeping one arm around your shoulders to have you close even so. “Oh, yeah I did forget the egg.”
Azriel cracks four of them into the mixture, before throwing in more herbs. “You’re cooking it too high too.”
Rhys brushes his lips over your hair. “Wanted to bring it to you in bed before you woke up.”
You twist and lean up on your toes to give him a proper good morning kiss. “I would have loved it anyway.”
“Human taste buds are disgusting,” Azriel huffs.
You hear Cassian’s footsteps before you see the half-awake vampire stumble into the kitchen. “Are we cooking what I think we are?”
“Not if Rhys has anything to do with it,” Azriel huffs.
“It was for Y/N!” Rhys returns. “I didn’t make enough for everyone.”
“But she’s so good at sharing,” Cassian says with a wink, his sleep thick voice enough to make heat pool between your legs. 
Rhys lifts you up and places you on the counter, beside where Azriel still chops more ingredients, so he can kiss you deeper this time. “Mine.” 
“Not with your cooking she’s not,” Azriel quips. 
Cassian tuts as he comes over to Azriel’s other side and dips a finger into the now simmering pot. Azriel smacks his hand with the back of the wooden spoon and Rhys hisses, fangs glinting in the candlelight.
“How are you supposed to take care of the little human if you can’t even cook her a decent meal?” He brings his fingers to his mouth for a taste, then frowns. “Do neither of you own any peppers at all? What is this, baby food?”
“I added the aleppo, just as the recipe said!” Rhys retorts. 
“You definitely didn’t! Your mother never made anything this bland!” Cassian insists.
“I’m following the recipe!”
Azriel snatches the book, scarred hands thumbing quickly through the pages. “I remember it being spicier.”
Rhys frowns. “Maybe we’re thinking of that other recipe she used to make?”
“No that one was for dinner,” Cassian returns. “I definitely remember a spicy breakfast dish. Especially on cold winter mornings.”
“He’s right,” Azriel chimes in, eyes still glued to the pages. 
“I mean, our tastes did change when we turned, maybe we’re the problem?” Cassian asks, running a hand over his face in thought. 
“Your tastes change when you turn?” You ask.
“A little,” Rhys says with a frown, violet eyes on the dish. “Maybe you’re right, Cass. Did you think it was spicy, Darling?” 
“A little,” you reply. “It could use more, I think, but again, I’ve never tried it before so I’m not exactly an expert.”
Cass peers into the pot. “It looks right.”
Azriel sets the book back on the counter with nothing short of reverence. “Guess it is us.”
Rhys’s face falls, it’s like watching him lose a piece of the past. You take his face in your hands and kiss the tip of his nose. “I think any mother would be proud to know that you loved something so much that you put all this effort into sharing it, whether is tastes the same or not.”
His grin is soft, like the kiss he plants on your lips, taking his time to pull out of it.
“Thank you for sharing a piece of you with me,” you say.
Azriel scoops it up into four small portions, the wooden dishes old and reminiscent of a time long passed. Not the formal dining ware they bring out at parties, but a little piece of home that managed to survive the passage of time. 
It’s delicious, Az had been right about needing the egg and thyme, it brings a more rounded flavor to the dish. But it would have been equally fine if Rhys had brought the first attempt to you in bed, simply because he loved you enough to try and make something for you even when he could not fully enjoy it himself. It tastes all the better because it’s something the four of you can share, can make new memories out of. You certainly will not forget it, not even in the coming change of your mortality. 
“Well now you’ve got me curious for what other ancient recipes you’ve been hiding,” you say as the meal comes to a close. 
“You make us sound like we’re old as dirt,” Cassian huffs. 
You wink up at Rhys as he kisses your temple. “A thousand years is a long time. What else can you make for me?”
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Text
You Call It Madness But I Call It Love
Chapter 26: I Hate You, I Love You
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Pairing: Soldier Boy x f!reader, Reader POV, Soldier Boy POV
Summary: When the reader left Payback 40 years ago after a falling out with her childhood best friend she never looked back, but when two men show up to her apartment and start asking her questions about the past, the reader begins to think those things can’t stay hidden and starts to question what’s real and what’s fantasy.  This is a re-telling of The Boys Season 3, where the reader is a supe who's known Soldier Boy since 1927. The chapters will fluctuate between past and present. This is chapter twenty-six of my "You Call It Madness But I Call It Love" series. (I'm so bad at summaries please forgive me!)
Word Count: 8.3K
Warnings:  I'm gonna label this one 18+ because it's Soldier Boy. , Angst, Cursing, Sexual References, Family Problems- A LOT of family problems, Past Trauma, Death Mentioned, Self Deprecating Thoughts, Blood mentioned. Soldier Boy might be, is, really, absolutely, completely a little OOC. Soldier Boy is really all you need as a warning.
Note: This is told from the Reader's perspective. Any references to the reader is made using you or your. There is minimal use of y/n. I tried my best to proofread, but nobody's perfect. Reader is described as "curvy" occasionally. If you don’t like, don’t read, but if you do like, you’re my favorite!
Internal Monologue is in first person and is in italics
Series Masterlist
Masterlist
A/n: I know that this isn't the final battle, but I wrote most of the battle and the chapter was so long (it was over 13K and I wasn't close to ready) that I needed to break it up. So now this is just a wonderful helping of angst in which the reader and Ben do the thing that they do best… fight with each other and then make up.
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READER POV
The silence that follows Homelander's disappearance with Lou and Rosemary's pursuit after him is deafening. It feels like hours have passed, but it's only been seconds. You feel cold and hot, nothing and everything. Fear, anger, anxiety, and terror all congeal into an ice cold ball in the pit of your stomach. Rubble is covering the thick shag carpet on the bedroom floor, the air filled with flecks of dust and drywall from Homelander's departure. You weren't thinking about how Legend would react though, couldn't think of anything else except the fearful look on Lou's face when Homelander grabbed her and refused to release her.
The thought that Lou was trapped with someone like him broke you. The fear that came with the thought was almost mind-numbing, because Homelander was dangerous and now that Ben and you had told him that you didn't want anything to do with him, there were no other bargaining chips. Homelander couldn't be placated because you had crushed the glimmer of hope in his eyes by telling him that he wasn't your son and that he was monster. You knew that Homelander was smart enough that he wouldn't believe you now if you promised him family, not when he had Lou and probably had Rosemary.
Rosemary had minimal training when it came to fighting, yes you'd made sure that she knew the basics of self-defense, but she'd never fought another supe before. She was never interested in that sort of thing. And it wasn't always about using your powers when it came to fighting another supe, it was about tactics and knowing the weaknesses of your opponent. In a fight with someone like Homelander, you couldn't just rely on your abilities, you had to understand what you were up against and see the little ticks that he tried to hide. You'd watched stronger supes fall because they relied too heavily on their abilities, and you worried that Rosemary would be the same way. That she would be filled with a blind rage because Homelander had Lou and that he would use her anger and frustration to his advantage.
Tears were streaming down your face and you were still struggling in Ben's grip, where his arms were wrapped around you, holding you back from chasing after them. And the longer he holds you, as more seconds tick by, everything else goes and you're left with something else.
To say that you were angry was an understatement, you were livid. You hated that Ben had done this to you again. That once again Ben was acting like you weren't a supe, like you weren't powerful, and like you needed to be locked away from the world in a glass cabinet. You were sick of it.
Because you understood that Ben loved you, that he wished to protect you and that he feared losing you, but you refused to allow him to walk on eggshells around you and put you in a glass bubble because of his insecurities.
Yes Ben had told you that he saw your strength in the past, that he saw how powerful you were, and only wished for you to need him, but you were done with this. He didn't have any right to do it. And yes, he was the man you loved, but he was not your master. Perhaps that's what made all this worse for you, that Ben said how much he loved you and that he saw your power, but every time things went South he did shit like this.
"Ben, let me go." You growl, turning your head to look over your shoulder.
"No. Not until you promise not to go after them." Ben's eyes are narrowed. He knew that if you promised him, you wouldn't do it, that you cared too much about what a promise represented to break one.
It was true, which was why you weren't going to promise him shit.
"I won't promise that."
"Then I guess I'm not letting you go." He says it casually, but the look in his eyes is meant to convey that he is just as upset with this turn of events as you are.
"Oh I think you fucking will." Your teeth clench together and as you say it, you turn your palms face down in front of you and break his hold. Having Homelander's strength made it easier to face Ben. In the past the two of you had sparred together in training. Back then you didn't think too much about it, but now you understood that he did it to make sure you knew how to protect yourself when he wasn't there, that he worried about you more than he wanted to say and that was the only way he could prepare you without telling you how much you meant to him.
Ben stumbles back a step, his eyes flashing with anger and you’re sure that he can see the same emotions written on your face.
“What the fuck is your problem?” You snarl at him.
“My problem?” Ben sputters.
“Yes!”
“What the fuck are you talking about? If anything it’s you that’s having a problem-“
“Oh I’m sorry Benjamin. Am I being difficult?" You press a hand to your chest feigning remorse. "Forgive me for having a fucking problem when our granddaughter has just been KIDNAPPED by a psychopath. And our daughter is going to face him alone!"
"She's not alone-"
"Wrong. She is alone, because you wouldn't let me help her."
"I told you that I didn't want you to fight him alone. I told you that we would do this together-"
"I wouldn't have been alone if you'd stop being so damn overprotective!" You snap, stomping over to the chest of drawers, searching through them angrily for something to wear. It was difficult not to rip the handle off the front in your anger. You were still wearing your sweatpants and an oversized paint splattered t-shirt, and the last thing you wanted was to face Homelander looking like that.
Why can't he just understand that I am powerful too? Why can’t he let me go for once? Why does he keep doing this?
You hated that he was acting like you couldn't handle yourself, especially after he had seen you destroy Legend's backyard single handedly the other day with your mind. You were so sick of being underestimated. First Vought, then Stan, and now Ben, and you didn't want to be seen that way anymore. You were powerful and damnit you weren't going to "sit" and "stay" because some man ordered you to.
"I am not being overprotective!" Ben's voice is a low growl. "The other day I told you that I didn't want you to do this by yourself, that I didn't want you to do any of this alone. That I'm here-"
"Well congratulations Ben! Our daughter is doing exactly that right now, facing fucking Homelander alone, because you couldn't just let me go." You grab the end of your shirt and take it off, shucking it to the floor before you begin to put on the tight long sleeved black t-shirt. "You always do this."
"Do what?"
"Underestimate me!" You take off the sweatpants and quickly step into the dark jeans. By now your eyes were flashing bright purple and you could feel the thrum of your abilities under your skin, begging to be released. The energy was growing with each passing second, the lights in the room flickered and you could feel an unnatural breeze rustling the curtains that were hanging from the windows, coming from you.
"I do not fucking underestimate you. I know how powerful you are-"
"Well you have a funny way of showing it." You spit turning around to face him again.
Ben is also getting dressed. His sweatpants have been replaced with the bottom portion of his supe suit, his knife, pistol, and top half of his suit is laying on the unmade bed. "We have already talked about why I have a problem with you doing shit like that alone." His words are almost a growl, but you can hear an emotion on the edge of them that isn't anger. It was worry.
You knew what he was referring to, when he told you that he hated watching you die because it made him feel like he'd failed to protect you, that every time you were hurt, Ben struggled with that.
You knew how he felt.
The other day at Herogasm when Homelander had him by the throat all you saw was red. You didn't want to witness Ben's last moments just as he had witnessed yours multiple times. But it didn’t mean that you held Ben back from doing what he needed to do. You saw his strength and supported him. All you wanted was for him to support you.
A part of you deep down registered that he acted like this to protect you, that he didn't want to lose you as much as you didn't want to lose him. And as happy as you were that Ben was finally getting comfortable showing and talking about his emotions in front of you, you still wished that he would let you be strong for yourself. You had to be strong without him for forty years, protecting Rosemary and Lou.
Does he really think that Stan and Countess are the only people who I've killed in the past forty years? That there haven't been other people and supes that figured it out? Did Homelander really think that Stormfront's death was a suicide? 
"You let me face the twins!" You shout.
"Those incestuous fucks couldn't handle you when they were full powered, let alone when they were dried out." Ben states pulling his shirt over his head.
"I don't understand why Homelander is any different." You cross the room to grab the long dark green leaver overcoat, the same one that Ben had scraped the blood and bits of flesh off when you returned to Legend's after you killed Stan. "You saw me handle him the other day-"
"Because he is different!" Ben practically stabs his knife down into it's holster on his belt.
"Oh really?" You tap your lip as if deep in thought. "Huh. Because I remember you calling him a pussy when you were thinking about killing him. When you told me that Butcher asked you to."
"He is." Ben's eyes are blazing now.
Your sarcasm always did that to him, and it did tend to rear it's ugly head in the most inopportune moments. In all the years you'd known him, Ben never really did like it when you got like that.
The room was quickly heating with the force of Ben’s anger, a slight glow radiating out from his chest, but Ben was keeping it under control. At least for now.
"Oh, so he is a pussy, but not when I have to fight him?"
"Yes." He seethes through clenched teeth.
"I hate to break this to you Benjamin, but of the two of us, I'm the one who has fought him and kicked his fucking ass." You spit back at him, sick of his attitude.
Ben crosses the room in two heavy strides so that he's standing over you, his hands on his hips. "The only reason why you fucking fought him, was because you felt the need to step in when I had him handled."
"Did you have him handled? Could have fooled me. When someone has you by the throat I find it hard to say that you have a handle on the situation!" You mirror his stance, refusing to back down.
"Don't fucking do that."
"Do what?"
"Be sarcastic! You know that I hate it."
"That's just too damn bad!" You snap. "I'm not your dog Benjamin  you cannot tell me what to do."
"I do not treat you like a damn dog. I will say that you're being bitchy." His teeth are grinding together, so hard that you can audibly hear it.
"Well excuse the fuck out of me! I think I'm allowed to be bitchy," You seethe the word. "Because you're acting like a sexist dick!"
"I am not-"
"Yes you are." You poke your finger into his chest. "And I don’t want you to come with me."
"Like fucking hell I'm going to sit here and wait around for you to come back."
"I don't want you to come with me because I don't want to spend the whole fucking time worried that you're going to get in my fucking way and prevent me from doing what I have to do."
"I do not get in your way." Ben roars.
"Yes you do." Your eyes narrow. "And I don't need some "big strong man" to do things for me!" You make air quotes around 'big strong man' to emphasize the point, but Ben was not getting it.
This was one of the worst fights you'd ever had with him, you knew that. The two of you had many over the years, Legend was not lying when he told Butcher that, but this one was quickly nearing the same magnitude as the fight the two of you had the night of the premiere. This was more than just the two of you going through the motions of being frustrated with one another and more than the two of you shouting over a little problem, this was about Ben's continuous need to hold you back and keep you out of harms way like you weren't a supe and perfectly capable of doing thing by yourself.
"All I do is try to protect you." His eyes are dark now, not a trace of green in them, looking more like darkened pits. When Ben was really angry you'd seen them go that dark before, only the night of the premiere had you seen them like that when he looked at you, all the other times you'd seen that look when he felt the need to put someone in their place, to beat them into submission.
"I don't need you to protect me!" It comes out in one breath, uttered in an exasperated tone, because again Ben just didn't understand.
Ben stops. "You don't need me?" The words aren't in the same harsh tone that he used before, it's softer, and the anger in his eyes shifts to something else for just a moment.
You could feel regret swirling in your chest, because you did need Ben. You needed him more than life itself, didn't want to spend a moment away from him. You hadn't meant to say it like that. And you know that it was something Ben struggled with, the idea that you didn't need him anymore or never did need him.
"No. Ben, I do fucking need you, but I don't need you to protect me all the time." You emphasize with a sigh. "I've changed. I'm not the same person I was in Philadelphia. I'm not the same little girl. I've been taking care of myself and Rosemary and Lou for years. I needed to change and so I did."
Ben still looks like he can't fully understand what you're trying to say.
"Ben do you really think that Stan is the only person that I've killed in the past forty years?"
Ben blinks surprised.
"There have been others. People who asked too many questions. Supes that just didn't believe the lie that Stan and I made up." You sigh. You weren't ashamed of that, weren't ashamed of the things you had to do to keep your daughter and your granddaughter safe. "You think that every death leaves a scar, but not always." You murmur remembering the fight with Stormfront, the one you never talked about. When she showed up on your doorstep and threatened you and Rosemary. And the others who threatened you, tried to blackmail you because they didn't fear you the way they should have. Stormfront had expected the same woman she knew from the past, but you weren't her anymore.
"What do you mean there have been others?" Ben's expression hardens, malice swimming in his eyes when he realizes that other people have hurt you.
Flashes of the past come creeping up, years you spent with Ben and the cold ones that you'd spent without him stumbling around like someone trying to find light when they were buried underground. And you did love him, but you hated that he did this, because every time he did it made you feel small, it made you feel again like he didn't see you or comprehend who you were.
"They don't matter now." You sigh. "But I am not something to be possessed. I am not someone who’s going to hang on your arm make you look good and laugh at all your jokes. I am not something to be controlled or shielded from the world. If I wanted to just be a trophy or a doll for someone to use any way they wished I would have stayed and married Howard. But I didn’t. I came with you, but I never imagined that you would treat me that way. I never imagined that you would treat me like he did.”
Ben looks stunned. He should. In all the years you’d known him you’d never compared him to Howard like that. It was a low blow and you knew it, but you were pissed. It hurt you to say the words, hurt you to open up that wound all over again, but it was the truth. You didn't lie to Ben and you weren't going to start now.
The words ring through the air between the two of you, the space between your bodies suddenly miles apart even though you were standing in the same room. It was the first time you'd ever felt that distance with him, not since the night he came to your apartment the night that he almost killed Noir and after the two of you talked you cried in the shower frustrated and angry with yourself because you couldn't tell him how you felt and upset that he didn't love you the way you loved him. And now you were just as frustrated and angry with him.
Ben opens his mouth to answer you, the look in his eyes heartbreaking.
"What the fuck happened in here?" Butcher shouts stumbling down the stairs and into the room. He looks disheveled, like he just rolled out of bed.
"Homelander." Your gaze leaves Ben. "He took Lou, Rosemary went after him."
"He took Lou?" Hughie sputters from behind Butcher, fear flitting through his eyes.
It was the same fear that had begun to trickle back in after the fight you just had, but the things that Ben and you had yelled at one another were still there, soaking through the air like a foul odor and seeping in to your heart. You weren't sure if it meant that you could come back from it or not.
"Yeah." Ben grunts.
"Then lets go get her." Butcher says. "Come on." He gestures with his hand and begins to trek up the stairs with Hughie in tow, leaving Ben and you in the bedroom alone once more.
But this time you can't say anything, can't bring yourself to apologize because you're still so damn mad, and so instead you follow after Butcher, without giving Ben a backwards glance.
**********************************************************
SOLDIER BOY POV
The car smoothly followed the long stretch of highway under Butcher’s hand, the trees along the road flashing by in a green blur, but it still didn’t seem like it was going fast enough.
It had taken Butcher and Hughie ten minutes to get ready after they stumbled downstairs to where Ben and you were and now the four of you were on the road and driving to New York. Hughie and Butcher were in the front seat while Ben and you sat in the back, but unlike the other day when you drove to Herogasm together, you were sitting on the other side of the car, arms crossed over your chest staring out the window, and not touching him at all.
Ben's jaw clenched when he remembered the day you drove together to Herogasm, when he held your hand and you leaned into his shoulder, reveling in the fact that you wanted him there with you.
And he wasn't sure that you still did. As much as he hated to admit it, that scared him. He didn't know where he should be if he wasn't with you. Everything else felt wrong. To be without you was like being without the sun, living in the deepest darkest cave and refusing to see the light.
That being said, Ben knew you were pissed, he was too.
Watching Homelander take Lou all but ripped him in half. He hated that the pussy had used a fucking child as a shield and hated that he had gotten away with it. Ben felt his body tense when he remembered the fear in Lou's eyes and a jolt of white hot rage burns through him at the thought that Homelander was hurting her.
Ben cared about Lou as much as he cared about you. She loved him and always made him feel welcome, and even though Rosemary never did, he was worried about her too. Maybe it was because he saw how much it hurt you for them to go, for Homelander to take Lou and for Rosemary to race after him. He knew that was your worst fear, but that didn't stop Ben from holding you back, for refusing to let you go alone to a place that Ben couldn't follow.
He'd never resented his abilities before, but he suddenly wished that he could fly. He would have soared after Homelander, after Rosemary, and after you if you had followed behind them.  That was why he had held you back though, because he couldn’t and he was scared.
The word felt like a curse to think, but it was true. Ben knew that it was fear coursing through his veins in those few moments when he realized that you were going to go after Homelander and he wouldn't be able to follow. He didn’t want you to face him alone, didn’t want to watch you die again.  After all these years, each time you died he feared that it would be the last, he feared that it would be the time it stuck and that he would be left all alone. He didn't want to live in a world without you, he'd done that for forty years and he was done with that.
Ben believed that it was his job to be there for you and after forty years of him being away, he wanted to be there to help you and take care of you. He was ready to make up for the lost time and he had told you how he felt the other day when you destroyed Legend's backyard, that he wanted the two of you to do this together.
That was before today.
Ben's hands are curled into fists on his lap as he forces himself to look out his own side of the car, refusing to look at you. If you could do the silent treatment he could too. Of all the fights the two of you had in the past, Ben knew this one was worse or at least it was as bad as when he fucked up, fucked Countess and then pushed you away when all he wanted was to bring you closer.
Honestly, you'd never compared him to Howard before. Ben could still remember the words you uttered to him the night of your birthday before you allowed him to take you to bed:
"Don't be jealous of Howard. He meant nothing to me. No one means as much to me as you do Ben."
Ben remembered the way you'd smiled up at him when you said it cheeks slightly flushed, lips red from when he kissed you.  He remembered the way he felt like he'd swallowed pure sunshine, because that was what you always did to him. You always made him feel like he was the only person in the world that was allowed to see the real you. He knew that you loved him, knew that he loved you more than life itself, but what you'd yelled him before Butcher came downstairs made him feel like taking a two by four to the chest. It hurt him.
He hated what you said to him, that you compared him to that asshole from back home. Ben wished for nothing more than to wipe the memories of that man from your mind. When you were younger sometimes Ben would see Howard and you sitting in the park or getting lunch. He remembered the way that you never seemed to smile as wide, how small you looked, how Howard liked you better in the gowns that your mother chose for you, how Howard liked you silent, and how Howard preferred your body covered in heavy coats even though it was the middle of summer.
That particular thing always pissed Ben off, because he knew how you struggled with that, struggled with the way you looked and Ben hated that someone else who stated they loved you made you feel small and ugly, when you were the most beautiful woman that Ben had ever seen in his life.
Ben hated Howard with a passion for that exact reason, because Howard did try to control you. He chose what you wore, complained about what you ate, discouraged your art, and did other unspeakable things that you had told Ben over the years. Things that made Ben want to go back to Philadelphia and end Howard’s bloodline.
But sometimes on the nights when Ben was away at boarding school and he couldn't sleep he would think of Howard and you. Ben would never admit this to anyone, but he would compare himself to Howard, try to find the little differences that Ben thought made you like Howard, the differences that Ben thought about doing himself to make you love him the way he loved you. It always made him feel like a fucking pussy though. His father probably would have beat him within an inch of his life if his father knew that Ben was comparing himself to another man. It was something that Ben's father ingrained in him, that Ben's was from a strong, proud, family that never did that. And that a real man knew that he was better than everyone else, and if anyone tried to challenge that then it was best settled in the ring.
Ben sighed. He was trying hard to weed out the toxic things his father told him. You helped immensely with that, by letting Ben know that he didn’t have to be strong all the time and didn’t need to keep everything inside, that he didn't have to hide what he was feeling from you.
He loved that about you, that he felt like he never had to hide who he really was, that you saw all the parts of him he locked away for so long from everyone else and didn't care. And in exchange he got to see all the wonderful things about you and he didn't want to trade that for the world.
Even though he was angry with everything the two of you shouted, he still loved you.
You were just so damn stubborn all the time and never wanted to see things the way I do and-
Ben gritted his teeth together as another wave of annoyance came over him. He really did hate how stubborn you were. Probably because you were just as stubborn as he was and that meant the two of you were often at a stalemate.
Ben glanced over to where you were looking out the window. You were frowning, arms crossed tightly over your chest, leaning back against the cloth seats.
The awkward silence in the car was palpable and Ben knew that Hughie and Butcher were also trying not to notice the tension in the backseat. There was a song playing on the radio that Ben didn't recognize, but Hughie kept bobbing his head along to the music while Butcher's hands tighten on the wheel.
Ben's eyes flick back to where you are staring out the window. He wanted desperately to know what you were thinking. Honestly he'd rather the two of you be yelling at one another than you give him the silent treatment. At least then he had some semblance of what was going on in your head. Ben knew you better than anyone, which meant that he was usually good at reading you, but not now.
Even Ben could admit to himself that you'd changed some, you were a little harder than you had been when he knew you, but it didn't make him love you any less. He had been shocked at your revelation that you'd killed other people. Ben was trying to ignore what you'd said about not all deaths leaving scars.
He'd been present for most of the ones that had happened in the past, but he wondered how many others there had been, and what other powers you had maybe acquired. That  was the thing about you, you weren't one to brag, never seemed to need to use as many powers to take someone down.
Your arms tighten around your body and Ben watches a single tear roll down your cheek.
Fuck. He thinks to himself. He really didn't want to be the reason why you're crying. He had been the main reason for so long and he hated that, he hated making you cry and hated when you cried in general. If you weren't so mad at him he would have unbuckled your seat belt and pulled you over onto his lap so he could hold you close and make you feel better, but he wasn't sure you wanted that, still wanted him.
The thought that you didn't made him feel like he was sinking into the sea, that the sun was slowly being sucked away while he's dragged under into the depths. Ben didn't know who he was without you, didn't know where he would go, and certainly didn't know what his purpose was if he wasn't in your life.
Before he can stop himself he reaches out to touch your arm, but you flinch away from him, still looking out the window and not turning to him.
Ben fights the urge to make you talk to him, and drops his hand back down to his thigh, curling it into a fist again. Ben felt something in his chest that was unfamiliar when you didn't let him touch you. He wasn't sure if it was fear or anger or frustration but it was there, simmering underneath the skin.
It reminded him too much of when he came back you didn't let him touch you, didn't want him anywhere near you. He didn't want to admit how much he relied on that, you touching him, not just sexually. The little touches you gave him on the back of his hand to comfort him when you knew he was anxious, or the brace of your hand against his shoulder or back when he was sitting down to reassure him that you were with him and that you weren't going anywhere or the moments you adjusted his collar when it was facing the wrong way, or smoothed a wrinkle at the front of his shirt or even just running your fingers through his hair the way you knew he liked, Ben lived for them, for all those little moments.
No one else had ever tried to touch him that way before, with comfort and love.
Even when you were children, the hugs you gave him when you saw him made everything else seem colorless in comparison. When he came back to you and you refused to let him touch you he was afraid you never would again and when you began to touch him again he felt like he’d ascended to another plane, but now your refusal for him to touch your elbow or even take your hand worried him.
He did not believe that he could survive without something as simple as that.
But all of that just solidified the one thing that Ben knew deep down, had known since the moment he realized how much you meant to him, that you were his one weakness, his fatal flaw, the one thing in his life that he couldn’t live without. He didn’t want to imagine that world existed because he couldn't survive without you.
That was why he didn't want you to fight Homelander alone. It wasn't because he didn't see how strong you were, it was that he was so afraid that he was going to lose you that he couldn't control himself.
He hated admitting that even to you, but now he knew he had to, because he knew his pride wasn't worth losing you.
*********************************************
READER POV
After the most awkward car ride in history, you were ready to get out and kick some ass. Despite Butcher's accelerated driving it had taken five hours to get back to the city from Legend's due to traffic and the whole time you were especially aware of Ben's presence. His brooding was practically audible from the other side of the car where he sulked and refused to look at you. You figured that just as he did the silent treatment you could too, but it didn't make it any easier.
Frankly nothing made any of this easy.
You were frustrated by this turn of events, that Homelander had done the one thing that you feared more than anything else in the world, the one thing that you had tried to prevent from happening your entire life, but he had.
But as upset as you were and worried about Lou and Rosemary, you were upset with yourself over what you had said to Ben. You hadn't meant to mention Howard, it was a low blow and you knew how much he hated the time you spent with Howard. You knew that Ben struggled with the thought that you possibly loved Howard more than you loved him and the  possibility that you regretted spending your life with Ben rather than him. And you knew that it hurt him as much as the moments you watched him with other women over the years.
You didn't want Howard, never wanted Howard, never felt anything for him, and for Ben you felt everything. Sometimes you were afraid to show Ben just how much you felt for him, feared that it would make him push you away when he realized just how much you needed him. In the forty years you spent away from him you tried to convince yourself that you didn't, but having him back was like everything coming back in color from black and white. But at the same time you were still a little angry, angry with him for holding you back when you knew you could have taken Homelander down yourself.
Because in your heart you knew that was what Howard did to you. Not that he held you back from fighting a psychopathic supe, but that Howard never saw you more as a possession, a jewel in a crown adorned on his lofty head, nothing more than something to parade around Philadelphia. That's why it was so different for you when you were with Ben, because Ben saw you, he never covered you up with heavy cloaks, he never discouraged your love of art, he never bored you or made you feel like your opinion wasn't important. Ben made you feel alive, and Howard? Howard made you feel like the empty husk of what you used to be.
You press your lips together in a tight line as Butcher pulls up the seat so you can get out of the backseat and set foot on solid ground. Hughie had been left behind at a gas station, and yes you hated that Butcher had done that, but at the same time you were relieved. You didn't want him to get hurt. You still believed that Hughie was different than you, not that he was innocent, but he wasn't jaded or hardened the way you had to be to survive.
Your gaze lifts to look up at the towering skyscraper that rises from the earth like a proud oak tree on a hill. Vought tower looks the same way it always has, bold and haughty like the men who founded the company all those years ago. The setting sun glints off the glass windows like the last glimmer of summer, something to be grasped before the cold of winter comes to take it all away.
You'd stood here looking up at the building before, watched the lights turn off and on, watched the people go in and out of the building, and had crossed the threshold a handful of times. The final time was to deliver last rights to your good friend Liberty.
She, like a few others, hadn't believed your story and had shown up to speak with you. But unlike the others, her methods of finding out if you were still you was to try to kill you. She had succeeded and then left stating that she would "be back to catch up." When you'd gone to Vought to find her, you hadn't been expecting her to look the way she did, half burned and laying in a hospital bed. You didn't know why she looked that way. It had been odd to stand there over her, odd to remember the person she used to be, proud and powerful and then look at the broken body that laid there. Her death had been a necessary evil, the only time you ever stepped foot in Vought Tower in the last forty years, but if it was to protect your family it was worth it to you.
Your frown grows the longer you stand there underneath the ominous glow that emanates from inside, anxiety prickling along your skin like the spines of a cactus. You couldn't remember the last time you felt this way, just that you didn't want to feel this way ever again. The building was a symbol of everything you hated, and you vowed deep down to destroy Vought and send it to hell where it belonged and make those who were responsible for Vought's success pay.
You think about the other day in Legend's backyard, when Ben pulled you back from the darkened pit and back into the light, when Ben told you that he didn't want you to do it alone, that he wanted to be there for you, and when he promised you again that he wasn't leaving and that he wanted you to give him all your burdens.
Yes he wants to be there for me, I get it, I GET IT. You sigh in frustration. I understand that he loves me and that he wants to protect me, but I wish he would just-
"Y/n?" Ben says from behind you. His voice is quiet, reserved, but you know that he's probably just as upset as you are.
You turn and glance up at him. Ben hadn't tried to touch you since you shifted away from him in the car. It hurt you to do that to him, to pull away from his touch when all you wanted was for him to comfort you. The night he came back to you, you hadn't lied when you said that he might have been the one who hurt you, but he was the only person you wanted to comfort you. That was the hard thing about loving him and him being your best friend. It was difficult to draw the line in the sand, to separate the two.
The feeling was normal. It was the same one you had when he broke your heart. You had hated him then too, but he was still the only person you had and the longer you stayed in bed running over the years you spent with him, the more you wished that he was with you. The only person that you wanted to comfort you and care for you even after everything that he had done and yelled at you at the premiere, was Ben.
Sometimes it scared you how much you relied on his touch, how much you needed just a comforting hand on your arm, or for him to tuck your hair behind your ear or for him to kiss you or for him to hold you while you slept. You didn't realize how much you needed it, how much you craved it until he came back and you allowed him to touch you again.
In the car you had been trying not to cry, but everything was building, your frustration with Ben over the conversation the two of you had, fear over what would happen to Lou and Rosemary, and red hot anger directed at Homelander. A single tear had slipped and when Ben had tried to comfort you, you pulled away from him.
Fuck.
You hadn't wanted to. You'd wanted to curl up against him and let him make you feel better, but you were still angry with him for holding you back.
The words you yelled at him momentarily ring in your ears. It wasn't just that you compared him to Howard, it was you told him you didn't need him to protect you. But you knew Ben better than anyone and you knew that he was probably circling the drain and thinking that you basically told him that you "didn't need him" when you did.
"Yeah?" You clear your throat. It was difficult to look at him, not when you were so close to just breaking down and telling him that you were sorry. You knew that you needed to be focused on what was about to happen, but you couldn't, not when things were like this between the two of you. You hated fighting with him.
Ben's gaze drifts to where Butcher is staring expectantly at you.
"Give us a minute." Ben says to him.
"Why?"
"Just give us a fucking minute." Ben snaps, obviously annoyed, but you knew that he was probably upset about the fight the two of you had and he was projecting that anger onto Butcher.
"Fine. I’ll clear the lobby. Don’t take too long." Butcher frowns, but turns and stalks up the front steps of the building.
You turn back to look at him, unable to stop the sarcastic comment from building. Because yes, you wanted to forgive him, but at the same time you were still frustrated with him. "What? Are you gonna lock me in the car? Or are you going to tell me again how you don’t want me to fight him?"
"No." Ben growls.
"Then why-"
"Because I don’t want it to be like this." Anger lurks on the edge of his words, but at the same time you can hear something else in his voice, something that sounds a little broken. And it makes your heart clench in you chest.
"You don’t want what to be like this?" You ask confused.
"I don’t want us to go in there angry at each other." He continues.
"Why not?"
"Because I-" Ben stops, his jaw tightening for a moment, before he sighs. "I hate it when you’re mad at me. When you don't let me-" He swallows and you watch his eyes drop to your hand for a moment and you understand what he's saying.
That he hates it when you don't let him touch you. You hated it too.
"You think I like being mad at you?" You whisper, fingers itching to touch his cheek, to push back the dark hair that has fallen forward into his eyes.
"No." He breathes.
You stand there for a moment, letting the silence fill the space between you. The sounds of the city rising around you, the sound of traffic, vendors downtown, and the smell of the pretzel stand around the corner are everywhere. There aren't as many people on the streets now, but you know that it's only a matter of time before someone recognizes Ben in his uniform.
You sigh as you look up at him. Despite the uniform there's a vulnerability in his eyes that you can't shake and you understand how much it must have hurt him too.
“I don’t like it when you’re mad at me either.” You reply.
"I don’t like being mad at you." Ben exhales heavily. "And I don't want it to be like this before we go in. If something happens I-" He stops talking. "I don't want our last conversation to be like that."
"What do you mean you don't want our last conversation to be like that?" This time you can't help, but take his hand and Ben physically relaxes as you do, squeezing your hand back just as tightly.
"If this doesn't work out, if-" His jaw locks and he drops his eyes from yours. "I can't lose you."
"Ben." You whisper and this time you can't help but hug him, pull him close to comfort him. Your arms go up around the back of his neck, burying your face into the hollow of his throat. "You're not going to lose me. Everything is going to be fine." Ben's body immediately curves around you, arms holding you against him so tight it's almost painful, like he thinks you'll never allow him to do this ever again.
"I'm not strong enough for that y/n-" He whispers it so low that you're not sure he meant for you to hear it. "I can't-"
"Shh." You breathe, moving your hands into his hair, smoothing down the unruly strands at the back of his head. "I promise you're not going to lose me." You pull back to look him in the eye. "But I want you to treat me like an equal, like you see my power-“
“I do.”
“No you don’t, because if you did you wouldn’t hold me back all the time.”
“I’m trying not to, but-“ Ben sighs leaning forward into you. “You said it’s your job to take care of me, well it’s my job to protect you.” His expression hardens. “And I failed before.”
“What happened to me was not your fault.”
“I should have been there. I shouldn't have left you for a second-"
“Just like I should have been there in Nicaragua." You whisper back, with a sorrowful sigh. "Just like I should have asked more questions, should have made sure that you were really gone. Then you wouldn’t have had to be in that lab, you wouldn't have been alone-"
“That’s not your fault.” Ben's forehead is against yours now. "Please don't feel bad about that."
“It doesn’t matter if it was my fault or not. I should have been there for you. I will forever feel guilty that I didn’t come for you sooner and that you had to endure that for forty years.” You drop your eyes to his chest.
“Then I’ll forever feel guilty for the way I treated you.” Ben replies.
"I don't want you to." Your gaze rises to his once more, locking with his deep green eyes.
It was true. You could still remember what he said to you, remember what he did, but he was here now and he was doing everything right to make you forget. He was being so different and working so hard to make up for the past that you didn't feel the prick of pain with the memories that you used to.
"And I don't want you to feel guilty about what happened to me." Ben murmurs, raising his hand to cup your cheek. "Those years don't matter to me. The only thing that matters to me is being here with you. And I don't want to miss another second because I did something stupid again."
"And I don't want you to feel guilty about what you did to me anymore. Because you're making me forget, you're doing everything you can to be different, and you're making me fall in love with you all over again." You whisper, leaning in to his hand where his thumb traces gently over your cheekbone. "And I don't care what the past held as long as I have a future with you, as long as you're here with me I don't care about anything else."
Ben smiles when he kisses you, the shape of his lips imprinting against yours, and making you lose yourself in loving him the same way that you had all those years ago. "I love you sweetheart."
"I love you too." You smile just as wide, fingers tangling in his dark hair. "And I'm sorry. I shouldn't have compared you to Howard. You're not like him Ben. You are my everything and Howard was nothing."
He nods. "I'm sorry too. I didn't mean to hold you back I just wanted to make sure you were safe."
"I know. I want to keep you safe too." You nudge your nose against his, breathing in the same air for a few moments.
He is still smiling softly. "Why are we like this?"
"Like what?"
"We always find something to fight about and I-"
“I kinda like it.”  You shrug.
“What?”
“Not that I like that you’re mad at me or being mad at you, I just think that we like to keep it interesting." You snort. "I think that if we didn't have a healthy amount of fighting we would just be so boring and-"
Ben kisses you again to shut you up, but it doesn't work.
"Plus, I like to think that the make-up is worth it after." You whisper against his lips with a smirk.
You watch Ben's eyes darken, with your comment. "Well, sweetheart, I'd say that we've got about forty years to make-up for." His hand on your waist tightens, moving his lips to your ear. "And I look forward to every single second." Ben's voice is rough and he bites your earlobe, sending a shiver down your spine that for a moment clears your worry about Homelander.
"I love you." You smile, kissing him like it's the last thing you'll ever do, like it's the greatest good you'll ever amount to.
"I love you too." Ben replies kissing you like it's the last time he'll be able to and trying not to think that it could be.
********************************************
A/N: A lot of delicious angst before the final fight! I have written most of the fight already, but I am hoping to finish out the next chapter by the end of the week... if the writer's block isn't blocking. 😂😭 I hope y'all liked this one. I see only maybe 2 chapters left officially in the series, but we will see how everything wraps up.
As always thank you so much for reading! I am so happy that so many people love this fic as much as I do. Let me know if you'd like to be added to the taglist! :)
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thisgirlnamedblusy · 22 hours
Note
Hiyah! could I request Donna with a reader who has a really ratty old stuffed animal that they’re super attached to that Donna is a little (very) jealous of? maybe during a crisis Donna tears it apart and reader is inconsolable for days and won’t even speak to her, until one day Donna very carefully repairs that stuffed animal for reader again. love some angst with a happy ending!
Yesss!!!! Thank you for your request!!!! I hope you like it and sorry about the language mistakes!!!! :)))))))
A childhood friend
Pairing: Donna Beneviento x Fem! Reader
Warnings: Angst, fluff, Donna being Donna, Donna's POV
Word count: 7,770
Summary: How can I be jealous of a teddy bear...?
N/A: Sorry about the language mistakes!!! Requests are open!!! I'm waiting yours!!! I love you all!!! :))
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I would never have imagined that I was waiting for someone, that in the darkness of my bedroom, loneliness wasn’t my only company.
After so many years of loneliness, of so much crying, horror… Finally I wasn’t alone and I would never be alone again.
My life is of no interest to anyone, it never was. Maybe I could have the feeling that I really left the young and crazy Donna Beneviento to become someone important, so “lady” preceded my name and I would feel special.
No, that didn’t work. I will always thank the Black Gods, Mother Miranda, for having been chosen for a cause that I am still not sure of. I became a Lord, someone to be feared. Yes, that sounded much better than: the crazy and sick doll woman.
But thinking that something in my life would change after my transformation was only part of an illusion, a desire of my subconscious to abandon my loneliness.
Yes, I had power. I could do things I would never have imagined. Causing fear and suffering to those people who one day messed with me was a fun pastime, but it didn't last too long.
Power brings fear, and fear brings loneliness.
It's not that I wanted to suddenly find myself surrounded by people who begged to serve me, as my sister did. No, that false desire to share my life with someone was the only bit of sanity left in my sick mind.
No, I didn't need anyone. I had everything without having anything.
Thanks to Mother Miranda's gift I was able to give life to my partner Angie, my only friend, the only one who, even without existing, was by my side all those years. A miracle from the Black Gods, a gift I can never thank enough for.
But after years and years of thinking that perhaps loneliness would always be my condemnation, that, simply because I was born into my family, having spent my childhood, my life in that sinister village, I would no longer have the right to be a normal person.
You appeared as a coincidence, as something that shouldn’t be there and at the same time had to exist; a beautiful, perfect girl, daughter of the village weaver.
Were you really a coincidence? It was becoming more and more difficult for me to see it that way.
You had something I needed. You had fabrics for my dolls. At first it was unexpected. The Duke simply didn’t have what I was looking for. When I saw you… When I saw you I knew that I would never buy fabrics from that greedy merchant again.
I preferred to see you, to see your innocent smile, the lack of trembling in your body when I was near. You were different, you didn’t fear me, or you didn’t show it.
That was much more than I had in my entire life, someone who smiled at me, who didn't run away from me, who didn't beg for mercy. It was sudden, my heart started to move strangely, to pound when I got close to you. Yes, I never had the chance to experience that thing called love, so it took me a while to be sure that it was what I felt for you.
Longings, sighs, smiles… All those changes, those involuntary actions of my body were like a disease, one that I did like to have, for which there was only one cure: You.
After a while trying to put my feelings back together, assuming that I really loved you, that I visited you only to contemplate your smile, I dared to tell you what I felt.
I wanted you to guide me. I wanted you to tell me what those sighs meant, those smiles that you were unable to see through my black veil. I explained everything to you, with fear, fearing that you would think I was just stupid, a poor crazy woman who didn't even dare to talk to people.
Your smile grew bigger and bigger and then… Then you confirmed it for me. Those butterflies in my stomach, my mind ravaged by your beauty, the sighs, the desire to see you… It was love.
I wasn't surprised by your timid explanation but... When I lowered my head, ready to run away, so as not to hear your rejection, so as not to hear that I was just a monster, then you did it. Without fearing the consequences of your audacity you lifted my black veil. You didn't uncover my face, just a little bit of it, just enough for your lips to rest on mine.
A kiss, the first of my life but not the last, a kiss from those tender, brave lips that didn't flinch, that didn't hesitate... The best kiss.
You also felt something for me. Your body was sick in the same way, it was sick of love...
Explaining how little by little the kisses became routine, how my caresses became more and more emboldened by your skin would be too boring. Everything we lived always had an end, a bitter one, the moment when you had to go back home.
Desperate, being selfish and possessive, one of those nights I begged you not to leave ever again, to stay with me. You, always surprising me, said yes.
And that, that was the first night in which our bodies could embrace each other eternally, in which the warmth of your body remained in mine.
“Okay, I'm done,” you said when your usual clothes disappeared to give way to a nightgown, the clothes that would accompany you every night. “Donna?”
“Oh, yes,” I said, shaking my head, leaving that journey through my memories, that explanation I needed to know that you were real, that you did exist. “Come,” I said, patting the mattress affectionately.
“Wait, wait, something is missing,” you said suddenly, searching for something among your suitcases. “That's it...”
I blinked several times when I saw you with something in your arms, it looked like a teddy bear, or at least, it once was.
“What's that?” I asked pointing at that ratty animal as you got into bed next to me.
“It's Percy,” you said with an innocent smile, showing me the teddy bear and moving one of its paws comically. “Hello, hello”
“Percy?” I asked again with a frown, taking the bear in my hands.
The condition of that plush was terrible. It was missing an eye and the seams seemed to want to tear. The passage of time was evident in the old bear, it reminded me of Angie.
“Mm,” you murmured as I continued to look at that worn teddy bear. “I've had it since I was very young, it's important to me, you know, like a friend.”
“A friend…” I whispered with an inevitably unpleasant grimace.
 I hate broken toys.
“Yes, I've been sleeping with him for as long as I can remember, he's always been with me, you know...” you commented, sighing and looking at the gestures I made on the animal, trying to recompose one of his arms.
“You haven't taken good care of it,” I murmured, looking at you out of the corner of my eye. “It's destroyed.”
You simply shrugged your shoulders.
“Yes, well... I've always taken him with me on my adventures,” you said with a nostalgic tone. “Time passes for everything, but for me he's still the same.”
“The same? (Y/N), it's missing an eye,” I said with a mocking smile.
I wasn't used to joking, I didn't even know how to do that, I always failed and that time, you didn't even bother to fake a smile, you just crossed your arms.
“You are missing an eye too and I love you,” you said with a dangerous whisper, one that indicated to me that you weren't joking.
I looked at you quickly, offended by your comment. You weren't careful, (Y/N), you didn't know how dangerous it was to joke about my horrible appearance.
Well, maybe you did, because your face immediately changed and you bit your lip, placing a hand on my shoulder.
“Um, Donna, don't take it the wrong way... I, I meant it as a joke,” you stammered, with a reassuring tone.
I just nodded, taking one last look at that horrible bear and leaving it on the nightstand.
“Oh, no, no, wait,” you said climbing up my body and reaching out to grab the teddy bear. “Be careful, Donna.”
“Careful? Perché? I haven't done anything,” I said confused while you got off my body again, with that animal in your arms.
“Don't leave Percy anywhere, he’s fragile and... Well, besides, I already told you that I always slept with him so...” you said, placing the bow tie on that teddy bear, making me frown even more.
“Is the bear going to sleep here? In the bed?” I asked in a dark tone.
I didn't know why I acted that way, but I did, I had the need to do it, as if I myself considered that the bear was exceeding the limits of confidence.
“Yes... It's just that... Well, it may seem silly to you but... I continue, I continue sleeping with him,” you confessed a bit embarrassed, placing the bear delicately under the sheets, in a position that seemed horrible to me, between the two of us. “That way he could protect me.”
Ignoring the gesture of putting that plush to sleep with us, I laughed pleasantly, shaking my head and taking your hand.
“Come on, tesoro… You don't need it anymore, I'll protect you,” I said, moving the bear away from the bed.
You gasped, snatching it from my hands with a nervous, almost scared gesture.
“Um, I'm, I'm sorry Donna but I need it,” you said, looking away. “Well, unless… It's a problem for you… Be more careful, please…”
I blinked several times, trying to listen to your words over and over again and to interpret your serious expression as you returned the animal to that privileged place.
A part of me asked for tranquility, calm. The bear wasn’t something strange. I slept with my dolls, with Angie. I should know how important it could be for a person.
 The other part of my head, the one corrupted by hate, jealousy and madness, did nothing but scream at me to get that pathetic bear away from the place my body should occupy.
“Um, it's not a problem,” I said in a small voice, with an expression that surely didn’t show the intention of those words.
Does she prefer to sleep with that bear? How stupid you are, Donna…
“Taci!” I said out loud, startling you with the abruptness of my words.
Again I wasn’t careful. I let the voices in my head sound real, cloud my senses. Luckily, it was only for a moment, until your soft and reassuring hand rested on my cheek again.
“Honey, I didn't say anything,” you said with a nervous smile, with that tone you used when the shadows stalked me.
I was stupid to think that way, to believe that the pathetic bear could replace me. I wish I weren't condemned to madness, to imagine that, around every corner, there was a threat that sought to take you away from me.
“I'm sorry,” I said, rubbing my eye and kissing the back of your hand.
“Relax, I know the move has been stressful for you but...” you said, taking your hand away and lying down on the bed, guiding me to do the same. “I'm here with you now, my love...”
Your whispers, your words of love always served to soften my sharp soul. The day you were gone... I wouldn't want to continue living. Not even eternal life would be a gift. It would be a constant condemnation, a time in which your loss would never disappear from my wounded heart.
“Certo,” I whispered, forcing a smile, reaching out my hand to remind the softness of your skin, to remind myself that I wasn't living in a dream.
You laughed softly, like every time my imperfect hands touched your perfection. Not even the fact that my hand touched that teddy bear stopped me from enjoying your hand, getting a little closer to kiss your lips slowly.
“Careful, be careful, darling,” you said amused, harassed by the tickling my lips did on your skin. “Percy.”
I moved away as my smile faded, letting your hands leave me to take the plush out from under my body and position it again, ready to sleep.
“I'm sorry,” I whispered with a fake voice, glancing sideways at that one-eyed bear, one that seemed to enjoy its victory. At least that's what my mind interpreted.
It was our first night together, and the joy in my heart hid those irrational jealousies for a moment. Having your body sleeping next to mine, your deep, calm breathing reaching my ears like a lullaby... That was unbeatable, even with that disgusting Percy separating us.
I could barely sleep that night.
I couldn't sleep because I had you by my side, because my mind traveled from joy to sadness, then to fear, the fear as always irrational and almost psychotic. I thought when I dared to close my eye, I would lose you forever.
That didn't happen. I dared to sleep, to test my worries, and I won. Well, almost...
When the morning cold shook my body, forcing it to wake up, the first thing I did was to reach out my hand to you. You weren't there. The warmth of your body had abandoned me.
I quickly turned on the light and confirmed my fears. You weren't there, (Y/N), you were gone. My breathing became dangerously labored and my eye traveled all over the room until I lowered my head.
Of course, Percy was still there, looking at me with its one eye, mocking me. It wasn't what I expected to see when I woke up but at least... At least I knew that you weren't gone, you would never go without that filthy teddy bear.
Nervous because of that cold look, because of that bear's sinister shadow, I turned its head, its body, preventing it from continuing to laugh at me, even though it really wasn't.
“Good morning!” A high-pitched squeal made me stir.
Small, familiar footsteps walked towards the bed, jumping on top of it; my friend, my companion, my Angie.
“Don't shout, Angie...” I murmured, shaking my head. “Where's (Y/N)?” I asked curiously.
The doll laughed amused, climbing onto my lap.
“I think she's taking a shower,” she commented thoughtfully. “Did you sleep well?”
“No,” I said in a cold voice, briefly looking at the bear.
“Of course, of course, your conscience did its work,” Angie said with a haughty voice that made me frown.
“My conscience?” I asked, running a hand through my hair, constantly looking at the door, wanting for you to appear.
“Yes, silly Donna…” the doll said, putting a wooden finger on my nose. “I'm sure you felt guilty for having kicked me out of the room.”
“Oh, Angie…” I sighed, understanding the reason for that attitude. “We've already talked about it, you can't sleep with us. You disturb us.”
“Silly!” my doll shrieked. “That's unfair.”
“Angie, taci,” I said with a darker tone. “You have to accept that (Y/N) now lives with us, so do me a favor and behave, will you?”
“I can't behave with the silly girl who forced me to sleep in the office,” Angie protested, crossing her arms and letting herself fall on the mattress. “It's very cold there, Donna.”
“Stop complaining, you can't feel the cold,” I commented, shaking my head, refocusing my gaze on that bear and sighing.
The doll growled, mockingly imitating my posture until she noticed where my eye was pointing, until she noticed that strange presence on the bed
-Ohhh - she murmured curiously, cautiously approaching that teddy bear. -What is this filthy bear?
“It's Percy,” I said in a small voice, frowning and looking away. “It's (Y/N)’s.”
“Percy? Hello, hello Percy…” the doll said, shaking the bear's paw as if she was really greeting it.
I looked at her and couldn't help but smile at that scene. Angie was a demon, but sometimes she managed to look adorable. I don't know what would have become of me without her.
“Hey, you dirty bear! I'm talking to you!” the puppet said abruptly, indignant at not getting an answer.
I laughed amused, picking up the puppet in my arms and sitting her on my lap, fixing her messy hair affectionately.
“Ti voglio bene, Angie,” I whispered with my soul a bit calmer.
“Oh, cheesy Donna,” she protested, removing my hands from her face. “Hey, that bear is rude, he didn't greet me.”
I laughed again, leaving the doll alone.
“He doesn't talk, Angie, he's not like you,” I explained while the puppet examined the bear again with curiosity, shaking it comically.
“Che palle,” she complained. “Wait, wait, wait,” she said, as if she had just realized something. “I can't believe it Donna…”
“Mm?” I muttered, watching the door again in case you appeared.
“So, I, the wonderful Angie, the supreme Angie can't sleep here with you and that pile of dirt that looks like a bear can, right?” she protested, with an indignant pose, not leaving the poor bear alone.
I rolled my eye and sighed, relaxing my face again, turning it slightly dark.
“(Y/N) needs to sleep with it,” I explained looking down, remembering the conversation from the day before, those irrational thoughts that talked about stupid jealousy. “It's like... A talisman for her, or something like that.”
“How old is she, 5?” the doll mocked, laughing evilly. “Isn't she old enough for teddy bears?”
I sighed again, shaking my head.
“I can't judge her, Angie, until she came I slept with you,” I said in a low voice, taking the opportunity to remind myself that there was no problem with Percy.
“It's not the same, I can talk, and move, and be the best friend ever,” Angie said proudly, pointing at herself and sitting next to the stuffed animal. “Oh, look, look, he's missing an eye, like you...”
“Should I find that funny?” I said offended, crossing my arms. “It's (Y/N)'s teddy bear and she sleeps with it, that's all, there's no problem with it.”
“Are you talking to me or to yourself?” Angie asked, comically moving the bear's weak limbs.
I looked at her with a furious sigh, not having an answer for that accusation.
“I…” I stammered confused, but before I could try to defend myself, the footsteps on the wood indicated to me that, finally, you had returned. “Oh, (Y/N)…” I sighed with a smile as you leaned in to kiss me.
“Have you missed me, darling?” you asked laughing, surely due to my usual shower of kisses, a desperate one that tried hard to mark your skin. “Donna…” you said, pushing me away amused, kissing me for the last time and sitting next to me.
“I hope you slept well,” I said, forgetting for a moment about my dark thoughts, dazzled by your smile. “Have you been comfortable?”
“Oh yes, of course,” you said, nodding sincerely. “Besides, I already knew this bed…” you whispered in my ear, making the heat of my body move to my cheeks.
“Ugh!” Angie complained, interrupting unpleasantly. “Oh, my love, darling, give me a kiss, mooch, mooch, mooch…” the doll mocked, pretending to kiss Percy, something that made your smile disappear immediately.
“Hey! Don't touch him!” you screamed, moving nervously to snatch Angie's toy. “Don't touch him!”
“Ahhh!” Angie shrieked, fleeing from the unhinged fury of your words, hiding behind of me.
“(Y/N),” I said with a surprised look. I'd never heard you scream like that, I'd never seen you get that nervous. “Cal-calmati, amore mio…”
“It's not a toy, Angie, it's not for you to play with,” you said nervously, checking if my doll had caused havoc on that damn teddy bear.
“How dare you to yell at me?” Angie asked, peeking comically, pointing at you with her finger. “Say something, Donna, defend me.”
I should have, Angie was right.
“Behave, Angie, please…” I whispered, not sure that was what I meant. You looked at me gratefully, frowning, still holding Percy.
“Donna, you traitor …” the doll hissed moving away from me and getting off the bed. “I will get my revenge! You will pay dearly for your insolence! You and that filthy bear!” she shrieked before leaving the room, saying words that weren’t especially nice.
You shuddered, hugging Percy tightly, an image that my mind distorted horribly, making it not to look cute, but dangerous.
“Donna… She threatened me,” you said in a soft voice, getting a little closer to me with a scared look. “Angie won't hurt me, right?”
“Of course she won’t, tesoro,” I said, trying to reassure you with a sweet hug, with a soft kiss on your cheek. “Don't pay attention to her...”
“And Percy?” you asked nervously, moving away from my kisses, from my comfort, and hugging that stupid animal tighter.
I sighed discreetly, shaking my head and drawing your body towards mine again.
“No, tesoro, she won’t hurt Percy either,” I said reluctantly, trying not to make my passivity so obvious.
Luckily you were too preoccupied with the bear to notice the apathy of my words.
That's how our coexistence began, in a strange but satisfactory way. After all, you didn't leave, you stayed with me.
I tried to forget about that bear, I tried to pretend that it didn't accompany us every night, that you hugged it instead of my body. Meditating in the solitude of my workshop, I came to the conclusion that there was no danger in you finding refuge in a childhood companion.
Yes, I stopped thinking about it, or at least I tried. You were so perfect… Seeing you every day, being able to kiss you whenever I wanted, being able to tell you at any time that I loved you, that you were my whole life, was a better gift than the second chance Miranda gave me.
Always so cheerful, so happy, sitting next to me while we read, on my lap whenever I worked on my dolls… I spent all my time with you, all the time I could. The kisses, the caresses, the hugs… Those divine gifts were my new routine. I couldn’t say I got used to it, because I could never do that.
Getting used to it would be trivializing your presence. It would be provoking your kisses to stop causing me that incredible emotion, to stop worsening of my favorite disease, my love for you.
But, although everything was perfect, although the days passed with my body in yours, with my lips adoring yours, there came a time when I began to feel a strange discomfort.
It was like a sensation that made our loneliness, our intimacy disappear. It was like when Angie was around, like when kisses couldn't be diverted into passion. The feeling of being watched got worse as the days went by and, even though I tried to ignore it, I really tried, I couldn't do it.
That bear, that damn bear was always with us. It didn't matter what we were doing. Eating, sleeping, making love, walking... That damn Percy always accompanied us, silently, with that disgusting eye laughing at me.
Living with you was wonderful, but... Yes, I hated that bear.
Your arms hugged it every night, that piece of cotton and fabric had the privilege of feeling your warm body, separating it from mine. It could be an exaggeration, a jealousy that made no sense at all, but… If I couldn't hug you at night, why Percy could? Was he more important than me?
Maybe I was indeed exaggerating. Maybe my mental problems made me see that filthy bear as an enemy and not as one of my lifeless dolls.
Openly admitting that I was jealous of Percy wouldn’t be good for us, I knew it and that's why I decided to pretend that I didn't care about the affection you gave him, that I didn't care about the kisses you gave to that battered fabric, those caresses so different from the ones you gave me.
But time only proved me right, it only fed my darkness. My lap was no longer a place for you, yours was now the bear's favorite place.
It seemed to me that you were distancing yourself, that you gave him much more than you gave me. It could simply be that I didn't pay much attention to you when I made my dolls, I even came to think that it was some kind of revenge for something I didn't know I had done.
I tried, I really tried, but I couldn't take it anymore, not that night.
The kisses were hot, wet. The panting began to fill the bedroom with lust. My heart was beating fast, my hands were traveling over your body. I was in paradise.
“Donna,” you moaned amused by my caresses on your neck, by the way my hands climbed up your legs, ready to touch you, to make you mine, to love you madly…
I laughed, biting your earlobe, moving your body so it rested below mine while my lips began to go down your neck. My mistake was not letting myself get carried away by the voices in my head, by those voices that I began to ignore.
No, the problem was much simpler, I opened my eye.
On top of your bedside table was that filthy bear, the damn Percy. He was always there, always next to you, almost closer to you than me. Maybe that's why I wanted to make love to you desperately that night.
I stopped, catching my breath, staring into that lifeless eye, feeling intimidated, watched, as if that Percy hated me, as if he was capable of feeling the same jealousy as me.
“(Y/N)…” I sighed, sitting up a bit, relaxing the movement of my caresses.
“Donna, why are you stopping? Are you okay?” you asked curiously, running a hand through my hair. I nodded with a frown, looking away from that bear. “Come here, my love…”
Your tender words brought back the desire of my lips kiss yours, but it only lasted a moment, until my stupid eye opened again.
“Mm, no, (Y/N),” I said, moving away again, shaking my head.
You looked at me curiously, with a strange look.
“What's wrong?” you asked with a soft, understanding voice.
You were so perfect…
“It's just that… I, I can't,” I stammered, looking back at that disgusting bear. “It makes me, it makes me nervous,” I said in a low voice, pointing at the teddy bear with my head.
“You mean Percy? Oh, Donna, it's just a teddy bear,” you said amused, pulling my face back to your lips. I pulled away roughly, determined that you would listen to me.
“Can you take it away from there?” I asked, with a cold look. “I can't concentrate.”
“Don't pay attention to him, I promise he won't say anything,” you whispered seductively, silencing my protests with another one of your tender kisses. Not even the softness of your lips could comfort me.
“No, t-take it away from there, tesoro, please,” I asked more nervously, with a frown.
It was a kind request, (Y/N). I don't know why you had to refuse.
“Don't be silly, Donna, just don't look at him,” you said, with a slightly more relaxed look, trying to divert my face from your table. “Don't be childish...”
“Childish?” I asked offended, mouth agape. “Come on, (Y/N), don't be stubborn. Put it down for a moment...”
I reached out my hand to fulfill my wish, but yours stopped me.
“Stop talking nonsense and come here, forget about Percy,” you said with an impatient voice.
Nothing I say is nonsense, (Y/N)
I tried to let myself go again, but I was too nervous.
“Cazzo...” I growled, watched by that lifeless eye, oppressed by the pressure of that smiling expression that would surely laugh victoriously for having won. “Cazzo!” I shrieked, moving to hit the stuffed animal, to throw it to the floor in an unpleasant way.
“What are you doing? Have you gone crazy?” you asked startled, pushing me to get off your body, desperately throwing yourself to the floor to pick up your teddy bear. “Oh, nothing happened to it, right?”
“I can't believe it, (Y/N),” I hissed nervously, shaking my head. “Leave that stupid bear on the floor and come here.”
“It's not stupid,” you said with a look that pierced my chest. “I already told you that it's going to get dirty on the floor.”
“But... You, you...” I murmured, unable to say a word, controlling my increasingly sharp nerves. “Porca puttana...” I hissed, getting up from the bed.
“Where are you going, darling?” you asked, confused by my abrupt attitude. “My love, uh… Why did you do that? You know how important it is to me…”
“You know what, (Y/N)?” I said, turning quickly before walking out the door. Your eyes looked at me scared, terrified. I didn't know what to say, I didn't know what I wanted to say, but I knew it wasn't anything good. “I, I'm going to the workshop.”
My cowardice was useful for once. I wanted to tell you so many things… I wanted to talk to you about my absurd jealousy, about my fear about that scruffy stuffed animal taking my place but… I couldn't do it, you would hate me for it and that only meant my fears made sense, that the bear was much more important than me.
I would have to calm down, my hands were shaking. That time I managed to avoid the crisis, but I didn't know how much longer I could bear it.
The next day started like any other, a romantic breakfast, your body on my lap again while I worked… It seemed like that tense moment had caused you to realize what my concern was.
But the reality was very different. That bear was still with us all the time, even closer to you, as if you wanted to protect it from another one of my slaps. You hugged it, held it close to your body. It was even closer than me.
“You know? I've been thinking…” you murmured while we ate. My gaze shifted from Percy, accompanying us, as always, and went to your beautiful eyes.
I nodded with a slightly forced smile, one that stayed alive in the light of your smile.
“Tell me what you've been thinking, tesoro…” I sighed romantically, something that made you smile in the same way
“Mm, I thought we could go for a walk in the woods, it's a really nice day,” you said with that soft tone, with that shy smile.
“Yes, a walk!” Angie exclaimed, startling us both.
“Um, no, just me and Donna,” you corrected in a slightly abrupt but amused manner.
“I want to go too, I want to go too!” the doll protested, tugging hard at my black dress, making me almost choke on my wine.
“Angie, cazzo, lasciami…” I protested, pulling the garment away from her wooden claws. “No, you're not coming.”
“Oh, Donna said a bad word,” Angie mocked, in an exaggerated manner. I shook my head, rolling my eye and smiling at you amusedly.
That smile faded when I saw you look at the bear and shrug. It made me so nervous when you looked at it…
“What did you say? A bad word?” you asked curiously.
“Oh, well, Angie's right, you better not learn those ugly words, sweetheart…” I said, dismissing my outburst with a wave of my hand.
“Donna, silly, mean Donna, I want to go for a walk, I want to go!” the doll shouted again, causing me to sigh tiredly.
“I said no,” I said firmly with a stern tone. “You stay here watching Percy, mm?”
“What?” you asked, startled by my innocent words. “Oh, no, no, Percy is coming with me.”
“That's it, choose the filthy bear over me,” Angie whispered, with her hands on her hips. “Donna, tell her something!”
“Angie… Can we eat in peace?” you asked again, clasping your hands together in a pleading manner.
My gaze darkened again and the hand holding my wine glass began to tremble. I couldn't believe it, I just couldn't believe it.
What was supposed to be a liberating step, without stuffed animals or dolls, was nothing but a continuation of that horrible routine in which Percy was always present.
My hand squeezed the glass so hard that it broke, causing you to moan in surprise.
“Uh, wow, you're strong, huh, honey?” you joked, removing the two glass parts from my hands. “Wait, I'm going to throw this so you don't cut yourself. Percy, keep an eye on her.”
The anger could no longer stay inside me.
“Don't go, (Y/N),” I said, getting up from the table and getting in your way.
“Oh, do you want something from the kitchen?” you asked innocently, emptying the broken glass’ wine into yours.
“No,” I said abruptly, with my teeth clenched, with my fist wanting to break more glasses. “The bear is not coming with us.”
“What? Oh, um, why not?” you stammered, putting the crystals in a basket and looking at me confused. “Of course it’s coming.”
“Of course it’s not. The bear is staying,” I hissed, breathing more and more heavily.
“No, the bear is coming with us,” you said with a fake, nervous smile, as if I was saying something crazy. I wasn't, I was right. “What's wrong with you?”
Your words only increased my nerves. I couldn't stand it anymore. The madness was starting to make me lose control.
“What's wrong with me, huh?!” I screamed furiously, unhinged, letting out that contained rage, that stupid and absurd jealousy. “Qual è il tuo problema!?”
“D-Donna, you know I don't understand Italian,” you whispered cautiously, backing away slowly. “What's wrong with you? You're, you're very nervous…”
“How long are you going to keep laughing at me?” I asked in a lower tone, but just as dangerous. “Tell me, have you decided to make fun of me until I can't take it anymore?”
“What are you talking about? Oh, honey, you're losing your mind again… I'll go get your medicine,” you said nervously, passing by me. A bad idea, since my hand grabbed your arm tightly, pushing you back with a furious gasp.
“Yes, I'm losing my mind… Because of you!” I shrieked, clenching my fists tightly and approaching your side of the table, where that stupid Percy was resting. “I'm fed up, (Y/N)! I’m Fed up!”
“Donna, you're scaring me…” you stammered, grabbing the bear to hug it, to take refuge in it, instead of me. That was the last straw.
“Oh…” I growled furiously, snatching it away from you roughly.
“Hey! Give it back to me!” you shrieked nervously while trying to reach it, something impossible, since I was holding it above my head and you… You weren't exactly the tallest girl in the village… “Donna!”
“No! What's wrong, (Y/N)? If you love this stupid bear that much, what are you doing with me?”
“What?” you asked confused, jumping uselessly to reach your partner. “Donna, stop…. Donna!”
“Basta!” I screamed with more anger, pushing you roughly. “I'm sick of this filthy bear! Sick of you loving him more than me!”
“What the fuck are you saying?” you asked, furious, giving up and shaking your head. “Have you gone completely crazy? I knew you were jealous, Donna, really, I knew you were possessive but to be jealous of my teddy bear… It's too much, even for someone like you.”
“If you don't want me to be jealous, stop putting this stinky thing in my bed, stop hugging him at night!” I shouted, shaking Percy in my hand, noticing how the weak stitching on its arm slowly unraveled.
“I don't think you're the best person to accuse me of that. What about Angie?” you asked, pointing at the puppet, who pointed at herself and shook her head.
“Hey, don't involve me!” the doll protested.
“She's alive, (Y/N), this fucking bear is not, he will never be, he will never love you like I do!”
“You're going crazy. You must relax, give Percy back to me and go with your stupid dolls,” you said in a calm tone, getting a little closer to me. “When you get over that stupid craziness, we can talk calmly.”
I narrowed my eye, still breathing furiously as you extended your hand towards mine.
“Come on, Donna, be a good girl and give it back to me,” you said, with a demanding tone that ended up driving me crazy.
I growled, lowering the stuffed animal to your height but immediately removing it from your grip.
“Do you want me to give it back to you?” I asked with a dark look that was surely terrifying.
You nodded, you didn't seem moved.
“Come on, Donna, give it to me,” you said with an impatient gesture.
“Cazzo!” I screamed, grabbing the bear with both hands and doing the worst thing I could do, ripping it, pulling at those weak seams to tear it in half, to tear apart your most precious possession and throw it to the floor with a grunt. “Here is il tuo orsacchiotto di merda!”
“Donna!” you screamed, exchanging pride for the deepest sadness. “No, no, no!”
Screaming, you bent down to pick up the remains of the animal, bursting into tears that tore my soul apart completely. My madness didn't allow me to pity you, not even for a second. I thought I had triumphed.
“Why…?” you sobbed, trying to put the bear back together in a pathetic way. The cotton was sticking out of the tear and one of the arms didn't fit anymore. “Percy…”
I just looked at you, my gaze still dark.
“Donna,” you sobbed, hugging the parts of the teddy bear. “You are a monster,” you whispered, staring me straight in the eye, tears running down your cheeks.
You didn’t say anything else, not even that terrible insult made me stir until you ran out up the stairs and locked yourself in the guest room among horrible cries.
“Oh, Donna, Donna…” Angie sighed, coming closer when she saw the white on my knuckles disappear and I began to realize.
“Oh… What, what have I done?” I said, as if I had just woken up from a nightmare, running a trembling hand over my forehead, looking at a piece of cotton on the floor. “No…”
“Donna, my friend…” Angie sighed, hands on hips. “…You screwed it up.”
Angie was right.
My absurd jealousy, my sick mind forced me to break Percy, to take away your childhood friend. I hated myself, I screamed, I yelled, but none of that could ease my conscience nor heal my mistake.
You stopped talking to me, almost looking at me. You didn't even sleep with me. I had lost you.
But it wasn't a quick loss, you didn't abandon me completely. You were still in my house, you hadn't left me. What was initially a relief became the worst of my tortures. I could see you, but not have you. I could hear you, but not talk to you, I could look at your lips, but I couldn't kiss them.
I tried, I tried by all means to apologize, to beg you to forgive me, but it wasn't enough, it never would be.
“(Y/N),” I said when, as always, you sat down to eat with me. Your gaze was cold, annoyed, it seemed like you really hated me. My voice was soft, sad, apologizing with every word I said. It was of no use.
You didn't look at me or greet me. You just poured yourself a glass of water.
“L-look, I, I made lasagna… It, it's your favorite dish,” I said shyly, serving her a perfect piece that she reluctantly accepted.
“Do you expect me to thank you?” you asked, ignoring my gaze again. At least it was the first time in days that I heard you speak.
“(Y/N), per favore… Listen to me…” I said nervously, with a trembling voice and a tear in my eye.
“I don't want to listen to you,” you said in a gruff voice, dragging the chair. “If you don't leave, I'll go to my room.”
“Forgive me, I beg you, I'm, I'm suffering, tesoro, you don't know how much I am…” I said in a more pathetic tone, reaching out my hand to touch yours. You stood up with a cold look, without a smile, without the sparkle in your eyes.
“What do you know about suffering? You have no fucking idea about people's feelings, Donna. I'm going to my room, I'm not hungry,” you growled, getting up from the chair and walking back to the stairs.
“(Y/N)…” I sobbed when I lost sight of you, resting my forehead on my hand, letting the tear I was holding fall onto the table.
As if saying your name summoned you, you approached again, hurriedly, picking up your plate of food with an embarrassed look, making a proud gesture as you took that lasagna to your room.
A strange smile formed on my face as I shook my head. At least you were still enjoying my food.
“Is everything okay?” Angie asked, climbing onto my lap.
“No, it's not okay at all,” I said hoarsely, pouring myself some wine. “I'm losing her, Angie…”
“Well, you've broken her childhood teddy bear and hurt her feelings, you can't be surprised by her reaction,” the doll said. She was right.
“I don't know what I can do… I'm desperate,” I murmured, playing with my food. “I'll lose her forever, because of me.”
“You gain nothing by regretting it, silly Donna, do something,”  Angie said, guiding my face so I looked at her.
“What? I've apologized in every possible way, I've begged her and… It, it didn't help,” I explained while the doll listened to me, pretending boredom.
“If you think that by saying sorry you're going to fix things up, you're more stupid than you look, Donna,” she said, making me growl furiously, pushing her off my lap.
“Angie…” I hissed dangerously while a word stuck in my mind: fix. “Oh, wait… I think I got it…”
“What, Donna? What are you thinking?”
“Come, I need your help.”
The solution came to my head like a fresh breeze. Yes, it was true that saying sorry was absurd, that it wouldn't fix anything but… That only happened when there was nothing to fix. Fixing my mistakes wasn't something abstract, metaphorical. I could fix everything, really fix it. If I wanted to get you back, I should fix Percy.
With Angie's unmatched help, and with you not seeming upset with my doll, I managed to distract you so I could go up to your new room and get back what was left of Percy.
I spent two days in the workshop, without eating, without sleeping, searching for every piece of fabric, recomposing every part of that damn bear. If it had to be with us so I could enjoy your love, so be it.
Two new eyes, a restored bow tie, reinforced seams, clean and soft fabric, a rebuilt smile, he looked brand new.
“Well, there you are…” I murmured, running a hand over my forehead, yawning from exhaustion. “Welcome back, Percy. What do you think, Angie?”
“Oh…” the doll murmured. “It's amazing, Donna, I'm sure (Y/N) is going to love it.”
“Either that or she'll hate me forever… Is she upstairs?”
The doll nodded.
Slowly, I went up the elevator, with the animal hidden behind my back, walking slowly towards you, who seemed nervous, looking under the furniture, at least until you saw me.
“You! You crazy nutcase! What have you done with Percy?” you shouted at me, pushing me by the shoulders. I didn't move, I just shook my head. “It wasn't in its place... You threw it in the trash, right?”
“No,” I whispered with a hoarse voice, trying to keep my composure despite your angry pushes.
“Yeah, right, stop pretending, Donna. I'm sure you've gotten rid of it, how long do you plan to make me suffer?” you asked, pushing me harder and harder. “Talk, you crazy bitch! Tell me where Percy is!”
I didn't answer, no matter how much my heart hurt from your insults. I simply moved the bear from my back, holding it with both hands and showing it to you, who immediately froze, blinking several times.
“What…? Percy?” you asked confused, shyly taking the restored teddy bear. “What…?”
“Hello, (Y/N),” –I said without moving my lips, pretending to be the animal. You looked at me out of the corner of your eye and shook your head.
“It's, it's incredible… It's, it's like I remember it when my parents… Gods… What have you done?” you asked, looking at the clean bow tie, running a finger over its two now perfect eyes. The smile was starting to appear on your face.
“Donna fixed me up. She put a lot of effort into it. Look at me, I finally have two eyes,” Percy said again while I looked at you with a sad expression.
“I see…” you laughed with a sincere smile. “Look at the seams… It’s, it’s perfect…”
“Donna loves you so much. She’s tried so hard to fix me up to make you happy. She didn’t want to hurt you. She was just being silly, were you, Donna?” Percy said.
 I nodded slowly.
You shook your head and laughed amused, leaving the bear on a table and walking towards me, cupping my face in your hands.
“Donna, my love…” you whispered, with tears in your eyes. “Honey…”
“I’m so sorry, (Y/N), I didn’t mean to make you suffer… I, I just…”
You interrupted me the best way you knew, with one of your tender kisses, one that almost made me cry, one that you hadn’t given me in too long.
“I behaved like a fool too,” you said, playing with my hands. “I know the whole Percy thing was hard for you, Donna, but… Don’t, don’t worry, we’ll both make an effort to be a bit better, okay? I love you so much, my love…”
“I love you, (Y/N)…”
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truthfulpoint · 2 days
Text
I fucked my girlfriends little sister.
It was just another Friday night for me. I work as an auto mechanic, and like most guys after a long day, we hit the bar. Most of the men were married and started to stagger back home pretty early, leaving just me and a few of my buds that were single. We nursed a few more beers, but I was avoiding going home since I knew my roommate would bring back his date.
“Last call!” The bartender hollered, breaking me out of my daydream about the security at work. The bartender was a cute little thing, college-aged with a few freckles across her nose. And those eyes - ugh, they were something to die for.
I had already collected the empties from my table and made my way to her to get a last round. I smiled at her as I tossed a twenty onto the counter.
“Another for the road and keep the change.” She bit into her lip as she took up the bill, shoving it into the apron she wore. The blue label of what I had been drinking all night was slid over to me as I eyed her; there was something about her that I couldn’t put a finger on.
“You don’t remember me, do you?” The towel over her shoulder was taken down as she wiped the trail of water left behind. I used the counter to pop the lid off of my drink as I stared at her.
“No, but I was just thinking there was something about you.” She seemed to deflate at my answer; it didn’t seem it was the one she was looking for. That smile returned as another customer came up to close their tab.
“You dated my sister.” She looked over her shoulder at me. The strap of her too-thin tank top had slipped just enough to show the small tattoo on her shoulder blade— one that looked familiar to me.
“… AUDRY?” That was said a little too loud. I fixed my face and cleared my throat, nursing my beer to hide my reaction. The last time I saw her she was just a fresh teen with braces, always wearing hoodies. This was a woman in front of me, but she still held onto that familiarity that made my heart skip a beat.
She laughed, and I swear it lit up the room. Apparently, I wasn’t the only one to notice. A few of the guys still lingered about, and I’d bet money it was to see who could take her home.
“Yes, yes. Don’t say it so loud.” The change was given to the customer, who gave it back along with a napkin with his number. She pocketed both, but as soon as he was out the door, she tossed the napkin out.
“I haven’t seen you in…” I thought back to the last time I had seen her. It had to be a good ten years. It was my senior year of high school, and she was just in middle school?
“Eleven years. I think I’ve grown up since then.” There was a tease in her voice. I couldn’t help but let my eyes drop down her body and take in just how much she had grown. Her breasts were more than a handful each, and I wondered if they were real.
“Certainly have.” I looked back at her features, and I could see it now. Her hair was more red than brown now, the baby fat gone from her face, and she had that smoky eye look going that framed her blue-grey eyes. My interest sparked just thinking about what I could do.
She cleaned and closed tabs as the room emptied. She waved out the other barback as we caught up, closing out the drawers, emptying the trash, and tending to general bar duties. When the last of the patrons left, it was just the two of us.
I decided to go out on a limb and ask for her number, unsure about how weird it would be since I had dated her sister.
“I thought you’d never ask.” She took my phone, entered her number after asking for the pin. Immediately after, she texted herself from my phone, indicating that she was interested. Time to turn on the charm.
“Let me walk you home?” I slipped off the stool, placing it on the counter with others. She removed her apron, collected her tips in a jar before returning. As she walked back around, I noticed her curves accentuated by her chest bouncing slightly with each step. All I could think about was how amazing she would look riding me.
"I'm good at walking home alone," she said softly, her voice now deeper and more sultry than I remembered. "But if you want to follow me... well, I wouldn't mind some company."
My heart hammered in my chest as I fell into step beside her, not wanting to miss another beat of conversation. We walked together silently for a moment as she unlocked her car door, and then turned to face me once more. In the dim lighting of the parking lot, I saw her cheeks flush slightly under his gaze; her body language changing from confident to vulnerable. Something inside me stirred at this newfound vulnerability in her demeanor.
"What?" she asked playfully, rolling her eyes at herself before looking away shyly. "I mean... it's been so long since someone found me attractive."
I couldn't help but smirk at that statement - like she wasn't attractive now? It was hard not to imagine all those curves underneath those tight jeans, and that coy smile on my face felt foreign to me.
“You gotta be kidding me. Look at you.” She blushed deeply at my words, her hand coming up to tuck a loose strand of hair behind her ear. I couldn't resist reaching out and tracing her jawline with my finger, causing her to shiver slightly.
"Is that so?" she asked, her voice low and breathy. Her eyes never left mine, full of desire and a hint of mischief.
Without hesitation, I leaned in and captured her lips with mine. It was like fireworks exploding in the night sky - passionate, intense, and electric. She responded eagerly, wrapping her arms around my neck as I pulled her closer to me.
We stumbled towards my car, our kisses becoming more frantic and urgent with each step. Once inside, we were all over each other - hands roaming freely over each other's bodies as we devoured each other's mouths.
I couldn't believe this was happening. Not only was I making out with my ex-girlfriend's sister after all these years, but it felt amazing, like we were meant to be together all along.
"You taste so good," I groaned against her lips, my free hand finding its way to her derrière and squeezing it roughly through her tight jeans. She let out a moan of approval, grinding her hips against me in response. "Goddess, you feel amazing."
She let out a small laugh into the kiss before breaking away for air. "You really think I'm a goddess?" she asked with a smirk that made my anticipation grow.
I smirked back at her. "Are you kidding? You do see how beautiful you are."
Her eyes widened for a moment before she leaned in again, this time biting my bottom lip softly between her teeth playfully. Her breasts were pressed against me, and I could feel the heat of her body seeping through our clothes as she ground against me harder - she felt so good.
"Take your shirt off," she demanded between breaths. Her voice was low and sultry now; it sent shivers down my spine as I pulled it over my head without hesitation. My chest hair tickled against hers as she ran her hands over them greedily while still keeping the kiss going.
She pulled away from the kiss, her eyes filled with lust. "Lay back," she commanded, her hands pushing me gently towards the back seat of my car. I complied eagerly, anticipating what was to come next.
She climbed on top of me, straddling my hips as she leaned down to resume our passionate kisses. Her hands roamed all over my bare chest, exploring every inch of my skin as if it was something she had been longing for.
I couldn't believe this was happening - just a few hours ago, I was at the bar, trying to drown out my sorrows. Now, I was here, making out with the most beautiful woman I had ever laid eyes on. Life could be so unpredictable and yet so amazing.
As we kissed, her hands traveled down to the waistband of my jeans, teasingly running her fingers along it before slipping them underneath and grabbing onto my hard member through my boxers. I let out a groan in response, unable to contain my desire any longer.
"Please," I whispered against her lips, not needing to say more for her to understand what I wanted. She pulled away from me slightly and began pulling her top up slowly - giving me a tantalizing view of her cleavage before tossing it aside, revealing a black lacy bra that barely contained her generous breasts.
My eyes widened in appreciation as she leaned in again, capturing my lips in another searing kiss while teasingly grinding against me through our clothes. Her hands worked quickly to unbuckle my belt and unzip my jeans before sliding them down along with my boxers.
I lifted myself slightly so she could pull them off completely before settling back down on the seat. She sat up and looked down at me, her hand wrapping around my length as she began stroking it slowly - eliciting a deep moan from me.
"You like that?" she asked with a smirk before leaning down and taking me into her mouth. I let out a string of curses as she expertly took me deep into her throat, sliding up and down with a skill that belied her inexperience. She looked up at me with a mix of lust and wonder, her blue-grey eyes wide and dark with desire. Her tongue danced over the head of my dick, tracing circles around the tip as she bobbed her head faster and faster. My hands tangled in her hair, holding her close to me as I arched into her touch. The scent of her perfume filled the car - something sweet, like vanilla and smoke.
My hips bucked against her face, trying to get closer, but she held me back, teasing me with a wicked smile on her lips. I groaned into the car door as she took more of my length into that perfect mouth. It felt so good to have someone else's touch on me after so long.
Her fingers trailed down my chest to my stomach before undoing my belt buckle and pulling it off, tossing it away along with my shirt. She pushed me back against the seat as she straddled me once more, leaning in for another scorching kiss. Her breasts brushed against my chest, nipples hard from arousal. I reached up to cup them both through the thin fabric of her bra, squeezing them gently. She moaned into my mouth as our teeth clicked together before pulling away breathless.
"Please," I whispered hoarsely, wanting more of this electric connection we shared.
She nodded once then slid off me, unzipping her jeans slowly revealing black lacy panties underneath which barely contained those perfect curves of hers. She stepped out of them both, and I couldn't help but admire how perfect she was.
Her lips met mine once more, and I tasted the sweetness of her tongue on the side of my mouth before we parted again. "I've always wanted you," she whispered between breaths. It sent shivers down my spine—a feeling of desire that coursed through my veins like lightning bolts connecting us both together.
She slowly lowered herself onto me, her breasts grazing against mine before sitting up straight again; moaning softly at the contact. And then without another word, she lowered herself back down, taking me inside her slowly but surely. Her eyes widened as I filled her up, making sure to look at me every second of the way as if to make sure I knew what we were doing here tonight.
Her skin felt so soft against mine, yet there was an edge to it all—an urgency that matched our beating hearts and racing minds that seemed to set us both on fire. Goddess almighty did she feel good wrapped around me like this!
My lips found sweet spots along her neck as we moved together in sync. Sweat and leather mingling with our arousal created an intoxicating mix. I couldn’t help but growl out loud as she took me. My hands came up to cup her ample breasts, thumbs teasing at her hard nipples.
She seemed to like it, her back arching as though I sent a wave of pleasure through her entire body. She moaned into my neck making me wild. I drove into her faster and faster. Her biting and sucking at my neck just at the collarbone. It felt so good to be wanted after all these years.
“Oh god,” she gasped into my kiss between nips at my neck. “You feel so good.” I couldn’t help but grunt against her neck and continued my frenzied lovemaking. My fingers dug deeper and deeper into her flesh with each thrust inside her welcoming heat.
The friction between us was an exquisite torture building up at an almost unbearable speed. Pleasure was consuming me. It felt like I needed to push past my own body and become one with hers.
Our bodies glistened with perspiration from the fervor of our lovemaking. Every inch of my length sliding against hers sent sparks through my body, igniting a fire inside of me I didn't know was possible.
Her mouth found mine once more; our tongues tangled in a heated dance while we ground against each other frantically. Her fingers dug into my shoulders as if seeking purchase, as she rode me harder and faster than ever before.
I groaned into her mouth, feeling an impending orgasm rising within me at this unexpected turn of events. She bit down on my bottom lip softly, then sucked on it tenderly before returning to the kiss - sending waves of pleasure coursing through my body straight to my core.
With one last hard thrust deep inside of her, I came deep inside of her pussy. Her walls clenched around my cock right after, as I finished inside of her. She moaned louder than I had ever heard a woman before - her own orgasm forcing her body to shake.
My fingers traced her thighs, and the mark of her jeans on her hips, as I looked to her. She pulled my now semi-limp dick from her pussy, my cum dripping down those silken thighs. I looked up at her perfect body, drunk on both alcohol and her.
"That was amazing," she whispered, her voice husky and filled with satisfaction.
I couldn't agree more. It had been years since I had felt this kind of passion and connection with someone else. And the fact that it was with my ex's little sister made it all the more intense.
But now, as we lay here together, I couldn't help but wonder what would come next. Was this just a one-night stand, or could there be something more between us?
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parkerloves · 2 days
Text
BACK AGAIN || PG10 x Fem!Reader
paring: boyfriend!pierre gasly x actress!fem!reader;
trope: second chance
summary: after a photo with her and her next co-star being way too close for a scene pierre ends up listening to the wrong people until his girlfriend go see him
fc; emily rudd
warnings: mention of cheating even though no one cheats
Tumblr media Tumblr media
A photo had taken over the covers of every magazine that relied on gossip and one name was repeated in every headline: Lovelle Cartier, a young actress known for her contribution to the world of horror and for dating a certain pilot with whom she shared nationality, but this time there was no talk of a new date or a movie, but the photo showed the young actress very much attached to a man who was still unknown.
⠀—Pierre please don't be an idiot and pick up the fucking phone —The young woman mumbled sitting on the bed in her hotel room just before it went to voicemail—
Nothing that was being said about her was even the slightest bit close to reality, and that was exactly why she wanted to talk to the one who had been her partner for the previous two years, even though right now she wouldn't even take a call from him, although on the third try she was able to get an answer.
⠀—Love, don't try anymore.... —Those were the first words she heard from the Frenchman, and the chestnut knew at that moment that he had been crying or at least screaming— I've been trying, I really have, I didn't care about any of your relationships in movies and stuff, but I guess it's true what they say that if you fake something it ends up being real....
Those were the last things Lovelle heard before the sound of the phone call ending reached her ears, causing all the frustration and sadness that had been building up since that stupid picture had started circulating on the internet. But of course Love wasn't going to let it end like that, and she knew she wasn't the only one when the device in her hand vibrated again although this time another name appeared on the screen, and recognizing it she was quick to accept the call and began speaking.
⠀—It's not what you think, fuck Charles... I would never hurt him, you know that.... —She mumbled so fast that she even seemed not to be understandable at certain moments, so she had to be interrupted by her friend—.
⠀ —I know Love, I know... But you've messed up, you know that right? I don't know what happened but don't leave him like this —The young actress had already stood up and had started pacing around the room as she always did when she was nervous and wanted to take the stress off her mind—.
⠀—I'm going to catch a plane, I don't know when I'll get there, in a couple of hours I guess, please take care of him while I go, I can't lose him, not him —She mumbled while her breathing made the pretence of recovering its normal rhythm, without much success—.
⠀—Don't do anything stupid, okay? If you come he's going to listen to you, he can't not listen to you —The girl nodded on the other end of the line and luckily Charles knew the young woman too well to know her reflexes in those situations— I'll wait for you at the hotel yes? I'll pick you up when you arrive
Shee didn't even wait a few seconds before hanging up and going to book the earliest flight she could, without even worrying about the price of it all, and if she already hated airports as usual, now that she only had a fucking image in mind it was certainly worse.
The flight was interminable, especially because in each of the magazines that were on that plane there was that stupid picture next to a more irritating headline that seemed to have been created just to hurt, but luckily that nightmare only lasted two hours before arriving at the Italian peninsula where the whole grid was now.
<<send me the address of the hotel, my cab arrives in 5 minutes>> she wrote in the Monegasque's chat as she didn't even have the patience to wait for it to arrive and smiled when she received that link that he didn't take long to send to the one who would be her driver, arriving at his destination in a matter of less than half an hour.
⠀—Charles, they won't let me into the hotel, I guess they think I'm a fan or something —She didn't even bother to greet the young man as she had her mind occupied with many other things—.
⠀—I'll be right down for you, I left Pierre with Yuki, he already knows the whole situation, and thank goodness he knows you and supports you —Charles luckily didn't take too long to appear on the other side of the door, dragging the young girl inside the building, hugging her when they were both already under the roof, letting her best friend have at least some time to calm down from all that, noticing after a few seconds later his shirt was getting wet on the side of his chest—.
⠀—Can I go see him? Although I don't know if it's the best option.... But if you ask him to come to see me he's not going to do it.... —She murmured still against his friend's chest before he covered his mouth to stop him from talking for a second—
⠀—He's in his room, he doesn't know it, but he needs you now more than ever —He grabbed the young woman's face with both hands to raise his gaze to hers, causing the French woman to only nod—.
As soon as they arrived at the door where Alpha Tauri's drivers were, Charles called Yuki to leave the room but to leave the door closed behind him, and it was at that moment when the fear took hold of the young woman and she flinched for a few milliseconds before the green-eyed man pushed her into the room. 
The image inside broke the young woman's will even more strongly at that moment, for she had only ever seen her boyfriend in that condition, and she would never have allowed herself to be the one responsible for something like that.
But it was then that those blue eyes came out of the hiding place they had found, in the hands of their very owner and would meet the blonde's, generating a grimace of confusion in the boy before it changed to anger.
⠀—What are you doing here? You didn't have to come and you know it, you didn't have to waste your time —She had never heard him address her in that way, but now there was no turning back and he planned to fight for what he wanted—.
⠀—Don't do that please —She took a few steps in the Frenchman's direction although she still kept her distance as she knew she shouldn't push him at that moment— I need you to listen to me, I only ask you for a few minutes and I'll leave later if that's what you want —She murmured feeling once more the blond's blue orbs on her—.
⠀—I shouldn't be giving you this opportunity, you know that, right? —That was the signal for Lovelle to move a few steps closer and then kneel down in front of the bed since it was practically impossible for the young woman not to be close to him, despite the fact that she wanted to give him a little bit of space as well—.
⠀—And you know I would never cheat on you, right? Yet here we are... Because I'm stubborn as fuck and I'm not going to lose you for a stupid picture —Her tone of voice was soft, beacause yes, she was frustrated and even angry, but he had more rights to be like that and she accepted it since she just wanted to have him back—.
⠀—Why weren't there cameras? —Those were the only words that came out of the boy's mouth in the form of a soft mumble after that little speech from his girlfriend, since a part of him of course wanted to believe her but let's just say that there wasn't much evidence in her favor—.
⠀—It's going to sound really bad.... But it's the shitty angle —She said and as soon as she realized that her words would probably be worthless at that moment she decided to look for some more decisive picture on her phone, but a hand interrupted his search—
⠀—No, fuck what's happening to me? You shouldn't have to be the one looking for ways for me to believe you? I don't know what was going through my head —He move the phone away from the blonde's field of vision before grabbing her face caressing her cheeks— Mine's going to sound really bad too, but I guess the shitty race I've had hasn't helped at all —His tone was soft again and her breathing was slowly returning to normal—.
⠀—I was planning to call you as soon as I finished work, I saw your DNF as soon as Chris alerted me —The distance between them was slowly getting shorter and it seemed that nothing of the last few hours had passed, which honestly was a relief for both of them—.
⠀—Let me take you to dinner today, there's a restaurant on the shore and hopefully you can watch the sunset —The Frenchman remembered one of his girlfriend's favorite things and seeing how a smile formed on her face, he couldn't help but bring their lips together in search of one of those kisses he had had to learn to share, but luckily not the feeling in them— I'm sorry
⠀— I think we both are sorry —She mumbled a few inchies away from his lips—
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mixelation · 2 days
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oh wait do you remember locket??? the AU where minato yoinks karin from kusa??? i randomly started rotating it again
karin is one year ahead of naruto at the academy
i feel like kusa would be upset about losing their magic healing doll so someone attempts to kidnap her like three months in. this gets shut down IMMEDIATELY and really boosts karin's individual trust in her adoptive family
i also wrote part of a scene of minato freaking out days after the Incident (not like bad freaking out, like he randomly checks in on her and is like "hey you're okay, right?") and he tells karin it's normal to be upset about bad things days and days about after they happen. so karin mulls this over and is like "what about YEARS after they happen?"
minato knew kusa was bad but karin tells him how bad, and he's like what the fuck??? and apologizes her to for not getting her out earlier. bc it is logical to not want to restart a war; however that was BEFORE he had a cute adopted daughter. now those people can just die :)
i'm not sure how this goes but i think kushina would want to recover the uzushio objects/seals that kusa took away form kasumi/karin, and then also what if she got to murder some people. idk how this part would go
i decided karin's genin team is unnamed jounin, sai, and kabuto.
my usual take for minato lives AUs is that Danzo ends up fucking around for years under his Kageship while minato has to figure out 1) he needs to be shut down, and then 2) how to do it without pissing off danzo's supporters. so in locket, minato has only recently shut down ROOT. sai is still sort of messed up as a result but he gets a few years of socializing in the academy before being put on a genin team. i don't think he and karin get along automatically, but she has a lot of secret sympathy for him as a fellow outsider
kabuto is a few years older and has been a genin for a while, but minato went for a nonstandard pick because he can see a situation where karin has to pick between healing someone and reigniting her own trauma, or letting her teammate suffer. and like.... she WILL have to learn to navigate that, and he's not going to baby her forever because he wants her to grow up to be an independent strong kunoichi, but also she is his special little girl and he can make it easier by putting a skilled medic on her team.
however minato's presence doesn't mitigate orochimaru. karin's "c-rank gone wrong" mission is kabuto being like "hey kid with uzumaki longevity and stamina and magic blood, wanna be orochimaru's new body???"
good news: karin unlocks her chains and resists her own kidnapping! bad news: jounin-sensei is dead, sai is injured, and kabuto runs off
i think brining her friend back from the brink of death would be like... the first time karin ever feels empowered by her magic blood. so like there's NEW trauma but also she's steadily learning to deal with her old trauma
i guess i never decided if team minato is also alive in this AU. if yes, i think her replacement jounin would be like..... obito or rin
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Missing
MAIN MASTERLIST / MARVEL MASTERLIST
Tony Stark x GN!Reader
Word Count: 3,600ish
Summary: Pepper breaks up with Tony and you're there to pick up the pieces.
Warning: heartbreak, kidnapping, torture, PTSD
Notes: I don't know why I'm so nervous, but I hope that people enjoy this one.
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You stood outside the lab, staring at Tony through the glass wall. Your fingers tapped nervously on your arm as you watched Tony design yet another new suit. Pepper had broken up with Tony three weeks ago and in that time Tony had left the lab twice and built seven new suits. And you seemed to be the only one worried about him.
Making your way down to the common floor, you noted how most of the Team was there, doing various things. You made your way to the kitchen area and began pulling items needed to make Tony some lunch.
“Oh! Are you making food?” Sam asked excitedly, plopping onto one of the kitchen barstools. 
“Not for you,” you responded, still working. “Tony needs to eat.”
“Is Stark still locked away in his lab?” Steve asked from the couch.
“Yes, and I’m getting beyond worried.”
“No need,” Natasha chimed in. “This is just what he does.”
“That doesn’t make it right.” You grabbed a bag and began stuffing various cold drinks in it to restock Tony’s fridge in his lab.
“He’s an adult, Y/N,” Sam said. “Somethings he has to figure out on his own.”
“You know, for heroes, you sure give up on helping your supposed friends real fast.” 
You grabbed the lunch for Tony and your bag before heading back to the lab. You weren’t happy to see that Tony hadn’t moved in the time that you’d been gone. Pressing your hand to the pad near the door, you silently prayed that JARVIS would let you in like the AI would often do despite Tony’s wishes. You let out a breath of relief when you heard the door unlock. You pushed it open and headed for Tony’s workbench.
“Brought lunch,” you told him. “I also brought some water bottles and your other healthy drinks to restock your fridge. I saw you were running low.”
Tony didn’t respond, eyes focused on the screens in front of you. You let yourself study his face for a moment. The deep purple bags under his eyes. The sunken features of his face, even his shoulders and arms were proof of the lost weight. 
You set the food down at his desk and headed to the fridge. You sighed when you noticed that it was full but with beer. Tony used to despise beer, saying that it was too cheap for him. Now it was practically all he was consuming. Quickly, you replaced the beer with the drinks you brought. You grabbed a trash can and began to pick up the lab, scattered with cans and bottles.
“You don’t need to do that,” Tony’s voice was hoarse from barely using it since getting heartbroken by Pepper.
“I know,” you responded with a small smile, “but I want to.”
Tony went back to work and you went back to cleaning. After you had finished what you could, you noticed that he hadn’t eaten yet.
“Tony,” you sighed, coming over. “You need to eat.” The closer you got, the more you realized that he smelled. “You also need a shower.”
“I’m busy,” he grumbled.
“I’m not leaving until you eat and get in the shower.”
“Y/N—“
“I’m not joking, Stark. Eat the food before I force you to.”
You glared at Tony until he let out a grunt and reached for the food. At first, his bites were small and slow but quickly grew larger and faster. It relieved you to see him finally eat something.
“Now, you need a shower,” you said once he was finished devouring the food. “I’ll run and get you clothes.”
“Fine,” he huffed. He got up from his stool and headed over to the bathroom attached to his lab. “But be quick.”
~~~
This became the routine for the next two and a half weeks. You even had begun helping Tony with his new suits, silently passing him tools as he needed. You never pushed him to talk, you knew that Tony needed lots of time to come to grips with everything. Especially since he and Pepper had been together for years. Tony had stopped arguing with you about you helping him, and that actually concerned you. 
Tony playfully argued with you all the time before the breakup. You secretly enjoyed it due to the crush you had been harboring since you met the man. You were okay with being friends though, understanding that he couldn’t reciprocate your feelings. Even now, you were just okay with taking care of him. Someone had to and you were the only one willing to step up. Which is why you weren’t happy at all when Steve requested you for a mission.
“Seriously, no one else can do this, Steve?” You questioned, trying to keep your anger at bay.
“Missions are on a rotation and you're next. It’s only fair—“
“Fair?! Tony’s not going on missions.”
“Tony’s never been in the rotation. He goes as he pleases. It’s your turn.”
“I need to stay and look after Tony.”
Steve sighed. “Tony can look after himself. I know you’re worried about him, Y/N, but he’s fine. This is just what he does.”
“That doesn’t make it okay! Steve—“
“I expect you packed and out of here by morning. That’s an order.”
You clenched your jaw and stepped back from Steve. “Whatever you saw, Captain.”
You turned and stormed off, leaving Steve feeling a little guilty for ordering you like that. Heading straight for the kitchen, you began to cook multiple meals that you could have ready for Tony to warm up. In the little time you had until your mission, you needed to make sure that Tony was going to be taken care of while you were gone.
After a long afternoon of cooking, you brought up many containers of food to Tony’s lab. By the looks of it, he was working on yet another new suit and hadn’t taken care of himself today.
“Hi, Tony,” you greeted as you entered the lab and headed straight for his fridge. You quickly began placing the containers of food in the appliance. 
Tony briefly glanced up to see what you were doing before focusing back on his work. He wasn’t going to admit it, but he was beginning to enjoy the company you gave him and the care you took with him. Even though parts of him still wanted to be left alone.
“Okay,” you said as you closed the freezer and headed towards Tony. “You’re all stocked up. You should have enough meals for lunch and dinner for about two weeks.”
Tony’s brows furrowed as he allowed himself to fully look at you for the first time in weeks. “What are you talking about?”
You tried not to be too excited that Tony was giving you his full attention. “I’m leaving on a mission in the morning.” You saw something flash in Tony’s eyes. Sadness? Disappointment? “Steve isn’t giving me a choice. But I made your meals and they’re all in here so that you don’t have to leave the lab.”
“Right,” Tony muttered as he went back to focusing on his work.
“Tony,” you came closer to him, hoping to regain his attention. “I need you to take care of yourself when I’m gone. Eat, drink, bathe. Maybe even leave the lab.” Tony didn’t respond. “Just… try. One thing, okay? For me?” He still gave you nothing, causing you to sigh. “Baby steps. Nothing big.” You leaned over and kissed his bearded cheek. “I’ll hurry back. I promise.”
You quickly took your leave. Tony sat completely still, thinking about your lips against his bearded cheek. He didn’t want you to leave, to go on a mission without him being in the right mindset. What if something went wrong and he wasn’t able to help you? You shouldn’t be going on this mission. Not now. But he didn’t have enough energy to go and fight Steve on this. Not that the Captain would listen anyway.
~~~
The morning came all too soon for you and Tony. Tony watched from the security feed, you pack up and head out on the quinjet. He had showered and stood by the door of the lab before you flew off, wanting to head down and wish you luck, but he couldn’t get himself to open the lab door. Once you were gone, Tony went back to his worktable and continued to work. His stomach growled around lunch time and your voice rang his his head. 
“I need you to take care of yourself when I’m gone. Eat, drink, bathe.”
With a sigh, Tony pushed himself to stand and headed for the fridge. He grabbed the first container he could, his thumb brushed over something attached to the top of it. It was a sticky note with a handwritten message from you.
I’m so proud of you.
Glancing around the fridge, he noticed all the containers you had left had notes on them. He couldn’t help but let a small smile tug at his lips.
Tony suddenly became excited for meals, hopeful for what your messages said. It wasn’t long before he began using one of the glass walls to place the sticky notes on. He began to shower every day and eat and drink regularly. He made sure that most of what he drank was water, not just alcohol and coffee. Tony kept a screen up with your mission updates. 
About a week and a half into your mission, you updated the Team that you’d been home in two days. Tony grew excited that you were coming back, having missed you so much that his thoughts of Pepper had died down. 
Without even thinking about it, Tony left the lab and headed to his room. He caught a glimpse of himself in the mirror. His hair was longer than normal and a full beard had grown over his face. The purple bags under his eyes were large. Before he knew it, Tony had one of his suits trim his hair, he had shaved his beard, leaving his normal goatee, and had fallen asleep in his bed. 
When Tony woke up, he had slept for almost twenty-four hours and there was a renewed energy in him. Tony got up, got ready for the day, and immediately got to cleaning up his lab. He needed to make sure that everything looked good for your homecoming. Once everything was cleaned up, Tony decided to go out and pick you up some flowers.
The moment Tony stepped out of the flower shop with multiple bouquets in his arms, he could sense that something was wrong. His senses were on high alert as he began heading back to the Tower but he wasn’t prepared to be pulled into an alley and quickly drugged up. The flowers went everywhere as he fought until the darkness took hold.
~~~
The mission was an easy success, but you were still a bundle of nerves as you landed at the Tower. Had Tony taken care of himself? And if he hadn’t, was he still alive? Steve was waiting for you as you headed out of the quinjet.
“Well done,” he complimented. “You—“
“Where’s Tony?” You quickly cut him off. “Is he alright?”
“Uh, yeah, I guess.”
“You guess? Seriously, Steve, Tony is your teammate.” You shook your head in disappointment. “I’m going to check on him.”
“We need to debrief—“
“Screw you, Rogers. The debrief can wait.”
~~~
The lab was empty when you arrived. You were surprised by that and by how clean it was. 
“Tony?” You called, making sure he wasn’t in there. 
You turned and froze when you caught sight of all your notes hanging up on one of the glass walls. Your heart swelled at the thought of Tony enjoying the notes and taking care of himself by eating the meals you had prepared. Though, you still checked the fridge and freezer to make sure he had eaten them. You wanted to cry at the sight of the empty appliance. 
“JARVIS,” you summoned the AI, “where’s Tony?”
“I’m afraid something has happened,” the AI responded and your heart quickly dropped.
“What’s going on?”
“Mr. Stark seems to be missing.”
“Missing? What the hell are you talking about?”
“He left the Tower early this morning to get flowers but he never returned. I haven’t been able to track him besides the street camera footage that I have just received and pulled up on the screen.”
You quickly sat down on Tony’s stool and watched the video footage. Tony exited the flower shop with too many bouquets in his arms. You couldn’t help but briefly wonder who they were for. A selfish part of you hoped that they had been meant for you. Before you could continue thinking about the flowers, you watched as Tony was pulled into an alley. He fought against the large men grabbing at him but he had been drugged. As soon as Tony fainted, he was placed in a large, blacked-out SUV.
“JARVIS, I need to know where that SUV went,” you demanded.
“I have mapped out the route,” JARVIS stated as a map appeared on the screen, outlining the route of the SUV.
“Ready the quinjet with the directions. I’ve got to go find Tony.”
~~~
Tony gasped as his head was pulled out of the large tub of ice water. His lungs were burning as were his throat and nose. His arms were tied behind his back and there were two men continually dunking him in and out of the ice water. Those who had taken him had yet to tell him what they wanted, and he expected that they would have their fun with him first.
With another push into the water, Tony tried to keep his thoughts away from the panic and PTSD surge. He had this happen to him before, years ago in that cave that changed him. Instead of focusing on the pain — past and current— Tony tried his best to focus on you. He hoped that you had gotten home from your mission safely. And that, maybe, you had noticed he was gone. The other members of the Team seemed to not notice him, especially since Pepper broke his heart. Tony could only hope that you would take notice.
~~~
“Hey!” Steve yelled as he jogged toward you. “JARVIS just told me you were taking the quinjet.”
“Yes,” you responded, curtly. You were headed for the weapons room.
“I need it for—“
“Don’t care. Because of you and the other idiots we consider a Team, Tony is missing.”
“Missing? Tony’s not missing. He’s probably just at a bar or—“
You stopped suddenly, causing Steve to almost trip over his feet. “JARVIS can pull up the footage for you. Tony was kidnapped and I’m going to go recuse him.”
“Alone? You can’t—“
“SHUT UP ROGERS! I don’t want to hear it. You and the others are—UGH! If Tony didn’t need help right now, I would be kicking all of you to the curb! Tony is our teammate! Our friend! And because you all believed this was ‘normal’ or that Tony just needed time, he was kidnapped! I am going to go rescue him and bring him home. Alone. The rest of you better stay out of my way when I get back.”
~~~
Tony was strapped to a metal table, bloodied and bruised, grateful to be away from the ice water. He was fighting to stay conscious despite the gunshots that began to sound outside the room he was held in. The door to the room kicked open with a bang and Tony clenched his eyes shut, trying to prepare for whatever may happen next.
You at to bite back the tears that threatened to spill at the sight of Tony, tied up and completely helpless. You took the steps needed to be near him, hands hovering above him, not knowing if he wanted your touch.
“Tony,” you breathed out. “Tony, honey, it’s me.”
Slowly, Tony’s eyes opened and fell on you. He almost didn’t believe you were real. But the concern in your watery eyes told him that you were very real.
“Oh, Tony,” you whispered, hands still hovering above him.
“I left the lab,” he rasped.
You couldn’t help but laugh. “This is not what I meant when I said you needed to leave the lab.” You took out your knife from your belt and cut the straps from him. “Can you stand?”
“I think so,” Tony nodded as he sat up. He stood off the table, only for his knees to buckle. 
You quickly caught him. “I’ve got you. Let’s get out of here.”
~~~
The Team was waiting for you with the med-bay team when the quinjet landed. The med-bay team rushed on the quinjet and pushed Tony out on a stretcher. You were right beside Tony, his hand holding yours like it was what was keeping him alive. Natasha and Steve stepped up and opened their mouths but you glared at them before they could say anything.
You made sure the med-bay room was shut before the Team could join. Tony didn’t need those fake friends right now. The doctors quickly gave him a check-up, medicine, and bandages before leaving him and you in the room. Tony fell asleep with you still holding his hand. It was a few hours before you decided to pull the Team into the common room.
“I have never been so disappointed in my life,” your voice was scarily cold and firm. “For a team of heroes, you are truly the worst friends ever.”
“In our defense,” Sam bravely spoke up, “Tony doesn’t handle things well and—“
“I swear, if I hear another shitty excuse from any of you, I will seriously harm every single one of you. I don’t want to hear any of it. Tony has done nothing but help eat of you. Given you money, a place to stay, new suits, and weapons. Tony buys the groceries and makes sure that each of our favorite things makes the list. He has things fixed before we can complain, whether he does it himself or calls someone in. Tony is always looking out for each one of us. But when he needed us, none of you cared. None of you were there.”
“Y/N,” Bruce timidly spoke up. “We’re so sorry.”
“I am not the one you need to apologize to. Tony needs—“
“Excuse the interruption,” JARVIS said, “but it seems that Mr. Stark is in distress.”
You were running to the med-bay before JARVIS could even finish. The others were right behind you but stopped outside the room, allowing you to go in alone. Tony was thrashing around on the bed, sweat making his skin shiny. He was crying out as you came to his side. Your hands found his face, holding it carefully.
“Tony, wake up,” you said. “I’m right here, you’re safe. Wake up.”
Tony gasped awake, eyes frantically searching the room until they found you. “Y/N.”
“I’m here.” His arms wrapped around you and pulled you into him. “I’m right here.”
The Team watched, extremely guilt-ridden. Tony deserved better from them, you were right. But this wasn’t going to be an easy fix by any means.
~~~
The nightmares happened every night. You ended up sleeping on a chair next to him, even when he was released from the med-bay and allowed back to his room. By every morning, you would be lying in Tony’s bed, his arms wrapped around you tightly after you tried to soothe his nightmares.
The Team had started shaping up and caring again. Though, you were more skeptical about it than Tony. Tony quickly forgave, wanting to put it all in the past. You continued to glare and ignore the others when Tony wasn’t around.
The two of you would spend your days in the lab, working together on whatever Tony wanted to. The two of you would talk about everything besides Tony’s break-up and his kidnapping. You knew he should talk about it, but you weren’t going to pressure him.
“Every time I close my eyes, I get thrown back there,” Tony admitted one night after you had helped him wake up from his nightmare. Your head was resting on his chest as he held you close. “I get thrown back to that cave… even after all these years…”
“I’m so sorry, Tony,” you told him. “I wish I could take those memories from you.”
“I don’t wish them upon anyone.” He kissed your head. “Thank you, Y/N.”
You looked up at him. “For what?”
“For always being there for me. For forcing me to take care of myself.”
“Tony, I will always do that for you.”
“You know, I was on my way back with flowers before I was taken.”
“Yeah?”
“They were for you.”
“Really?”
“I was trying to thank you and I guess I should have figured out a different plan.”
“I would have loved them… mainly because they were from you.”
“Y/N… you were the only reason I survived those hours… I had hope that you’d find me.”
“I will always find you, Tony… however you may be missing.”
Tony’s gaze fell to your lips. You got the hint and leaned up and kissed him. He held you closer as the two of you kissed. When you separated, he kissed your forehead.
“So… when can I expect replacement flowers?”
Tony laughed. “How about tomorrow night?”
“It’s a date."
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danthropologie · 2 days
Note
So we say it’s over? I don’t want to believe it, but now I can’t be delulu
no bestie it's never over until it's over!!!!! now look i'm not gonna lie, i woke up. i saw some things. i spiraled a little bit. i cried a little bit. but then i worked thru it and now i think actually it's gonna be ok.
yes christian's comments aren't necessarily great for daniel, but they're not a death nell either? he specifically outlines that they have tons and tons of data on him, so they KNOW what he's been doing, they KNOW what he brings to a team, they KNOW where a lot of his recent form has been down more to the car and strategy decisions than daniel himself.
at the same time he also flat out said that checo hasn't been performing. sure he kinda sorta praised him with the whole "did what was required" thing getting p2 last year, but they HAVE to know that he only got that by pure luck and the skin of his teeth. so maybe it's the delusions speaking, but i still don't really see a world in which he sticks around to next year.
and then yes, you've got him bringing up all these junior drivers, including liam, but at the same time he also brings up GEORGE RUSSELL being out of contract next year, so he can't be THAT sold on these junior drivers when time and time again, he brings up some other completely unrelated wildcard option in the same breath.
also as my beautiful beloved jenna @accio-ricciardo brought up earlier, we have to remember christian is in the midst of negotiating a bunch of contracts at the minute. he can't just be out here heaping praise on any one guy cause that's not going to be good for their bottom line or the negotiating power it would give up to said guy. being 'meh' on pretty much everyone is unfortunately probably the best strategy for him to take atm.
and then i think there's also the sponsor angle to think about here? there's no way the sponsors aren't wanting to keep daniel, and that goes doubly so if they DO lose (get rid of) checo like i expect them to. like i'm sorry but liam and some fucking nobody rookie are not going to replace the sponsor pull power of EITHER of them, even combined lmao.
and in terms of this week, as mentioned earlier, they DO have tons and tons and tons of data on daniel and christian flat out said that, so i don't think that this one bad quali or one bad weekend is going to make or break him. but also do think there IS a chance to recover and still have a good race tomorrow- the car is good, there's room to make moves, he's further back so better chance of getting an insane strategy that somehow actually works, i'm wearing my red bull miami23 shirt today so the power of rocky compels him same as it did on friday after i wore it on thursday......i think we're gonna be ok
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stiwnty · 3 days
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THEORY TIME :)))))))) (yaay it's back)
It's said: I will make the post tomorrow (3 posts actually, each with different topics)
but before, just a thing... Man that looks realistic... But TOO realistic... Where did he get that from??
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We usually think that some things from the PC are drawn by Orange. At first, these were just theories... Like with the Gunslinger short. There were a lot of "drawn" things there; like the hat, the shoes, the stick-circle-thing...
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But the Green's Channel 1st ep actually kind of confirmed this. Cuz we can see Orange drawing the basketball hoop with an art-style similar to the before mentioned thing. And also with colors other than the black-white we see him drawing with.
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So I don't think these were drawn by Orange. The main difference I see is that Orange's style when drawing objects is more cartoonish… And Green's stuff in the ig pic is nothing of that...
There before I have two theories:
Google: We've seen that the sticks can pick up things from google images (Lightsaber Duel short). But this theory can be debunked by two facts: The first one being that (as shown in the image) the objects they pick have a cartoonish looking appearance. And the second one being that Green's laptop has a weird looking logo that I don't think is real…
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2. Outernet: We know that the Green's arc happens after AvA s3. There is evidence like:
-Green's videos are being posted now and AvA s3 canonically happened in 2023 (PC dates)
-The modified comment where a person calls Orange by the TSC name and Green first doesn't recognizes it. But then that comment was deleted and they modified his response to recognizing it but still calling him Orange… This means that they either found out about the name in AvA s3 or before in AvLol (welp I'm getting of topic, whatever) (coudln't find it but trust me!!)
So, maybe after AvA s3 they get more ways to go to stick city…
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+. Or here is the other path: Purple (aaaaaaaaaaaaa) Welp it's obvious what I'm about to say. Purple is friends with Green and he has a portal connecting to the Outernet. sooooo Purple may be in the Green's arc.
This also makes sense cuz we know that the relation with the CG and Green has been "breaking" a bit (for reasons I will mention in tomorrow's posts after I finish my homework. And cuz of their lower and lower appearances in the vids.) and Purple hasn't been on the problem so far.... Here a pic of Outernet tech
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Now some personal ranting: I like Purple, and even if I don't like him that much cuz yes. I don't know how to feel about him being in the arc cuz I was kind of hopping the CG would resolve the conflict together and with love and with their 10 years friendship they have and with their deepened care they have to eachother (which was, btw, more focused on in the Green's Channel 1st ep)… Sooo yeah, idk,
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chaos-of-the-abyss · 2 days
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I hope you don't mind me asking this, but why do you like Celegorm? I love that you're vocal about how stupid the Feanorian woobification in this fandom is because people who claim that they did nothing wrong or that they're not villains clearly hasn't read the Silm, but while there's still a level of sympathy to most of them, Celegorm is just genuinely the worst and I can't figure out what there is to appreciate about him lol. I'm sorry if this comes across as a bad-faith question, I really want to know how you like him while not ignoring, trying to deny, or worst trying to justify (which I have seen FAR too many people doing) his canon actions
you're totally good anon! i'd be happy to answer this. just want to preface, i perfectly get where you're coming from and why people hate celegorm, because he is, as you say, the worst. he's horrible. he's done awful things to countless people -- and by no means is he the only feanorian to have done that, obviously, but celegorm's actions in luthien's story make him a type of squicky that's unique even among the brothers. he, hm. how can i put this. he deserves nothing. and yes, people who try to justify him are just wrong. stop reading the silm if you want a mass murdering sexual predator to be glorified ¯\_(ツ)_/¯
that said! the succinct answer is that it's all about the vibes lol. all the feanorians are awful people, but celegorm is, imo, that particularly entertaining kind of awful. there's a certain interplay between his successes and failures that i find unbearably endearing (derogatory). he is canonically charming and magnetic and charismatic enough to sway people with his rhetoric, and i love that. i love that he's opportunistic, clever, and sly, and pounces on the chance when he spots it. the fact that his speech in nargothrond is explicitly paralleled with feanor's before the flight of the noldor says a lot. i find it compelling that while, in many ways, celegorm is the most distant from his family -- friend of a vala, a great woodsman and hunter which are two things that neither his father nor his brothers are ever even mentioned around -- he is the only one among the sons of feanor to be directly, textually compared to feanor, and feanor during one of his most pivotal and infamous moments, no less. the guy must be a force of nature when he really wants to be. yet at the same time, he's endlessly reckless, arrogant, and shortsighted, and he does not get to get away with his actions. his plans flop (just like he will continue to flop until his karmic and also really fucking funny death in about thirty years' time, i'll get back to that), his intentions are discerned, and he gets thrown out in disgrace for treachery with the embarrassing declaration "a maiden had dared that which the sons of feanor had not dared to do" following after him. it's that particular blend of hyper-competence followed hand-in-hand by prompt abject failure and humiliation that makes him so appealing to me.
oh and. another thing about celegorm is that he has the added charm of being a fucking sore loser and a petty bitch -- trying to kill luthien even though she spares his brother's life when she'd be justified throttling him and curufin with her bare hands and i just. he's sooo funny. what is wrong with him. so many things are wrong with him. tfw you kidnap and tried to rape this woman and she does you an untold, absolutely herculean grace and kindness that you know damn well you do not deserve and your reaction is to try to kill her for daring to show you compassion. he's insane.
then. then then then then. he gets chased by own dog and runs away "in terror." you know you've messed up when your dog finally has enough of your bullshit and runs you down because he's fed up with all the terrible things you've been doing. not to mention his dog also dies fighting next to a man that he hates, using his last opportunity of speech to say goodbye to said man. like. beren and luthien's story leaves celegorm, as skilled and magnetic as he canonically is, in absolute shambles and it's hilarious. how does one recover from that you may ask. and i answer one does not recover from that.
but that's not even all. after that saga of blunders he hangs around for about three decades doing absolutely nothing of note, then in his attempt to regain some relevancy winds up having the most mortifying death ever. my dude you were the "let's ambush doriath guys" spokesperson. you campaigned for that shit. this was your desire. this is what you wanted. and you walk in there and the guy who's *checks notes* THIRTY-SIX compared to your one-thousand-something KILLS YOU. elves are not developmentally matured until they're a hundred. your killer is like thirty. this is, generously speaking, about an eight year old by your standards. a fucking eight year old kills you. yes i know dior was not actually a child at the time but the fact remains that celegorm quite literally has more life experience than the entire human race and he's done in by the son of a human. then to add second insult to first insult to extreme injury, two of your brothers are also killed in this battle and in the end you all don't even achieve what the fuck you came there to do. THIS WAS YOUR PLAN. how do you lose that badly. holy hell. if i were him i'd stay in the halls of mandos forever out of pure embarrassment. you simply would never see me again. you think i'm walking out into society and showing my face around the block when an eight-year-old ended my life? nah. no sir not me
plus well. on a more serious note, dior is luthien's son. luthien, whom celegorm thought he could control, whom he saw as an object to further his aims and to lust after. he's killed by the son of the woman he tried to rape, and there's nothing more fitting than that.
so! there you have the basic rundown of why i like what's explicitly laid out about celegorm in canon. he's an objectively horrible man, it's just that i find the way he goes about being objectively horrible extremely funny. but i also think he is ripe for exploration in the realm of speculation -- and that speculation enhances what we do know about his actions during b&l and after until his death. aside from the kinslaying at alqualonde wherein all the sons of feanor participate, we see him and curufin acting unambiguously villainous a good bit before the rest of their brothers -- at the very least, they are clearly more willing to do horrible things at the point of time of b&l when compared to the likes of maedhros and maglor. like, they are out here committing actions that no sane person can rationalize as being anything other than abhorrent. it's clear that they've already given up on the idea of being "good"; they've already given up on keeping their hands clean and they've already shed whatever qualms they might have had in the past.
my thoughts on why? this is by no means canon, but tolkien does seem to like giving the legendarium's major villains some sort of arc and some type of insight into what they become (melkor gets history, sauron gets history, maedhros and maglor get history), so i don't see why celegorm should be any different. and for me, celegorm and curufin, especially celegorm, give the impression that they fell into despair and disillusionment far before the other feanorians did. and their response was to accept that they have no way of going back to the people they used to be, that they've already been rightfully damned, and if they've come this far they may as well do whatever they can to achieve what they fell so low for, because what does it matter anymore? it's part of why i think celegorm sees maedhros trying to look at beleriand and the war against morgoth from a larger perspective than just the silmarils, and both disdains and pities him for it. they've already been doomed and they already can't hope to make amends. they should do what they're here for -- and while, in celegorm's eyes, maedhros isn't willing to do what needs to be done, he is. i think that sort of mentality is fascinating. in a way, it's a self-fulfilling prophecy -- maybe if celegorm thought there was any meaning to him being better, or even just any meaning in not being nearly as awful as he resolved to be, then he wouldn't have stooped so low. but he did believe there was no hope for him, he did believe that he could never be forgiven -- and in believing that, he did go past the point of no return, beyond which he truly, legitimately couldn't hope to be forgiven. also, i just personally like the "well i'm a terrible person so i'm going to act like a terrible person"-type villains better than "oh no i'm a terrible person it makes me so sad and full of despair"-type villains (looking at you, maglor). again, none of this is canon, but it's my reading of celegorm's character, and i think it sheds some light on why he's so awful in b&l and afterwards. in his mind, it's already over for him anyway.
i hope this answered your question anon! i like celegorm, and i enjoy his character, because there are shades of a sad tale behind his descent to being the worst, he's entertaining while he's being the worst, and most crucially of all, he gets his comeuppance for being the worst in an extremely satisfying way. i definitely wouldn't like him (or the silm at all) so much if he'd been, like, successful in anything -- but thankfully he is written by an author who knows full well what an utterly reprehensible character he is. and boy does tolkien not spare him from that karma. he is simultaneously a singleminded and relentless fallen prince, a repulsive monster, and the story's laughingstock (one of them anyway). honestly, none of the feanorians tickle my brain quite like he does. i love him and i would beat him with a shoe
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