#no fragile masculinity in sight

[lillieslotus]

it’s 6am and im drowning in varadeva thoughts!

prashanth neel really created 2 stalwart hulks w the physical dexterity to turn all of khansaar crimson red, while simultaneously building them to have the SOFTEST heart for each other!

they meet after 25 long years, and require no acclimation WHATSOEVER before displaying physical affection towards each other! not a moment of awkwardness. they melt and shrink w each other without any hesitation. tol big men soo smol 🥺 so attuned to each other’s bodies (!!despite the physical distance that stretched for more than 2 decades!!)

idk man but it’s fr refreshing to see two big men, carrying the capacity for such extreme violence, also embrace each other so intimately and be so vulnerable w each other!

they do not feel any pressure to give in to the macho-man-lacking-emotions persona bc they simply do not give a fuck! they feel a lot and their feelings towards each other are far greater than any possible need to push out an image of a tough, ruthless interior. they missed each other, and everyone will have to endure that!

just boyfriends always caring for each other. varadha looking out to ensure his man has his chili powder (to be loved is to be seen!! bc you remembered that detail for 25 years?) deva making space for him to lay his head, CARESSING him, making sure he’s taken care of in such a vulnerable drunken state, remaining by his side through the night 🥹🥹 he would jump in and fight off the nightmares for varadha if he could!

these are all !!open!! declarations of love, your honor! and my men don’t shy away from it either. they love each other and they will make it everyone’s problem (cue the flashback to narang’s beheading for being audacious enough to touch deva’s varadha in his presence)

[laviebunnie]

Creepypasta Relationship HCs / Types! 𐙚⋆°.⋆ ( 1 )

Characters : Tobias Rogers ‘Ticci Toby’ , Evan Myers ‘HABIT’ x Reader

Word count : 2k

A/N : hello pookie bears! (˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶) My request are open right now so please please please spam me with suggestions or fic ideas!!

Tobias Rogers ‘Ticci Toby’ : You were a new beginning, an artistic melody that painted the sky with strokes of light and color. Toby was a faded light, dimmed and jaded— but you lighted his heart ablazed. Once he touched a fragment of heaven, he knew he couldn’t turn away. Because, Toby was never known for being a selfless man.

Toby is someone who desperately wants to be loved— but with how his life turned out, being on the run during his late teens and early twenties, then serving the being that haunted him since he was a child— to put it lightly, Toby never had the time to connect with someone.

It does mess with Toby deep deep deep down— that he isn’t normal, that he can’t build strong relationships— like others do so easily, though it’s something he does crave— he isn’t that delusional; he knows he wouldn’t be able to maintain any sort of relationship anyway.

But that’s thrown out the window when he meets you— I fully believe Toby’s a ‘love’ ( lust ) at first sight type of guy. He tends to fixate on people, starts learning everything about them ( all the parts he likes, anything else he’ll block out.. like it doesn’t exist. ) projects his dream partner onto them, till he gets bored or they break the perfect woman perception— he had for them.

It’s probably a small / insignificant act of kindness that brought Toby’s attention to you.

Maybe it’s when you paid for his meal inna hole and a wall diner / or you helped him when he was injured( even if he doesn’t feel pain— the thought still counts ) / or maybe in passing you complimented his sense of style. No matter how you met Toby, he fell hook and sinker.

In a relationship, I feel that Toby would naturally go for someone more maternal. ( even if your the most masculine woman / person — he’d still project a motherly role onto you. ) He’s so used to older angry masculine male figures in his life— who call him crude names and make him feel less than.

He just wants someone who’s nonjudgmental. Someone who’d love him despite his ugly scars— to kiss them gently, love them like they are art on a canvas.

Toby knows that’s wishful thinking.. and you probably don’t even know he exists but a man can dream.

Toby daydreams about you ALOT, it pisses both Masky and Hoodie off cause the kid won’t do his darn’ job correctly— Masky is one bad day away from grabbing Hoodies gun and blowing Toby’s brains out.

TOBY IS SO AWKWARD IT HURTS.. he isn’t the most social guy ever.. the only real conversations Toby has is either with one his victims.. and Toby barely would call someone begging for the life a conversation— Two, Tim and Brian… and Toby fuckin hates Tim ( the feeling is mutual ) Then Brian… Toby doesn’t exactly have a problem with him.. but Toby thinks Brian a fuckin werido for even liking to be around Tim. Lastly— the voices in his head.. and I won’t elaborate on that.

So when Toby tries to talk to you.. he very creepy— like very fuckin creepy..

Unwavering direct eye contact, prolonged touches, Talking in an unnatural manner, like he’s reading off a shitty 2000’s screenplay.. it’s bad— so bad.. but Toby thinks it went amazingly! Honestly it went better then what he’s been imagining in his head!

I think Toby would try to be a flirt… but he’s straight up tremendous at it— but I wouldn’t recommend telling him that, he has a very small fragile ego.

Realistically.. Even if Toby bagged you, he wouldn’t be able to be with you for long— once his job is over he has to move towns unless..

Yeah, bro kidnapped your ass— are yall really that shocked??

Not gonna lie, getting kidnapped by Toby is lowkey the worst lol ( who would’ve thought?? )

That’s when you’ll learn the most about Toby— mostly how seriously deranged this fucker is.

You’d have to deal with his horrible psychotic episodes, where he trashes the whole fuckin cabin, screaming at you for not loving him back— full on man child tantrums.

Toby most definitely dissects animals for fun.. so good luck with the rotting smell of corpses in your bedroom.

When Toby comes back from ‘work’ he’ll always have a gift for you.. though don’t ask him who or where he got it from— just smile and say thank you.

Toby most definitely stole the password to Tim’s Hulu account.. yall watch anime together.

Toby doesn’t talk much, since he wouldn’t have much to talk about.. ( Toby also hates his stutter/tics.. so he’d rather hear your soothing voice instead of his raspy one ) but he’s a total nerd— Ask him a question about Star Wars and he’ll yap for hours.

Toby accidentally hurts you— more often then he’ll like to admit.. he doesn’t comprehend his strength— and it’s hard to understand a concept you’ve never experienced, so when you cry — he thinks you're being a big baby.

Toby is a DIY husband, always building something new when he’s home— cannot stay still.

You're gonna have to do all the cooking… This man eats like a 3 year old.

Toby loves you unconditionally— though depending on how you treat him, your experience with him will either be hell or decent..

also don’t try to leave the cabin, he’ll find you.

Evan Myers ‘HABIT’ : Evan is losing his mind, a parasite— a monster is taking over his body. It nibbles on his brain, whispering unsavory suggestions into his head. His thoughts aren’t his own anymore, neither is his love for you.

Evan is short-tempered, vulgar, and a bit of a smartass. Not everyone can handle somebody like him— yet there you are ( foolishly ) loving him through everything.

Evan feels his sanity slipping from his grasp, he knows he’s less than sane, that he’s borderline psychotic. He knows the right thing to do is to let you go. That he can’t even trust himself to protect you anymore— especially from himself.

Yet, he selfishly clings onto you, because you are Evan’s breath of fresh air, you're as gentle as a baby bunny, softly holding him throughout his night terrors. Gently patting his tears away with cloth, whispering sweet nothings into his ear— sweet empty promises that everything will be alright— that you’ll stick with him, no matter what— that nothing can take him away from you.

Evan can’t handle the thought of losing you, he’d actually start tweeking out. Especially if slenderman had something to do with it. ( Evan will somehow someway throw slenderman out the window just like he did the rake. )

But seriously— Evan can’t lose you. You are the rainbow after his storm. Evan is a whirlwind of contradicting emotions, yet— you're his only constant that pulls him out of his episodes. He can’t live without you.

You are his distraction, his comfort outside of the hell that is his life. All Evan wants is your touch, your undying nor revering love, and in return he’ll give his everything to you.

Correction: he'll give you everything BUT information on what he does with the EMH ( EverymanHYBRID ) crew.

He has you blocked on all social media, and changed the password to his computer, Evan doesn’t want you involved in his fucked up life.. well more than you already are.

Evan knows that you're not an fuckin’ idiot, there’s only so many times that he can come home with a new injury till you're catching on that the ‘workout’ videos aren’t all he’s doing.

But in Evan’s defense there’s only so many excuses he can make up about how these crazy ass scars keep on randomly appearing on his body— Or the weird brown stains on his jacket.

you're growing more suspicious— even if you don’t directly question him.. he can see in your eyes that you’re worried.

But if Evan were to tell you the truth ( he wouldn’t inna million fucking years ) he doesn’t even know how he’d start that conversation.

“Babe, don’t freak out but.. Y’know slenderman? Yeah, that tall lanky malnourished mother fucker’ that we made fun for having no face? so.. he’s real— surprise! Ohhh, and has been haunting me and the gang for months..and wanna know the best part? I never told you till now! Haha..” yeah no.. Evan rather uses his own body as a pin cushion for his knife collection than ever admit something as lundquist as that.

Evan believes ignorance is bliss ( but only when it comes to you. )

HABIT adores dumb little things, like you. He loves the way your eyes light up whenever he comes home from a long day of ‘work’. HABIT also loves your expressive facial features, how he wishes to contort it, to dismember it into something else entirely new. But what HABIT loves the most is the fact that the ‘man’ you kiss every morning, who you trust unconditionally and let into the deepest crevices of your body, isn’t who you think it is.

HABIT is an inhuman being that predates time itself. He doesn’t have any connection to humanity, only existing to find a suitable host.

It isn’t hard to get HABITS attention, in fact it’s pretty easy. It's just extremely hard to maintain.

But you're so awfully pathetic, kind soul, that he sorta ‘feels’ bad for you. That you ended up with a guy like Evan, and return him.

HABIT finds you interesting, specifically your selflessness. He notices when you go out of your way to help others, or how you consider his feelings whenever you make a decision, or whenever he’s upset, you always make ‘him’, his favorite food.

You're really as sweet as they come, and he’s the murder that wears your boyfriend's skin.

HABIT fucks with you a lot, ‘accidentally’ tripping you, moves your shit around so you can’t find it, constantly trying to scare the shit out of you— just to make fun of you for being scared.

HABIT brings you dead bunny corpses as gifts

HABIT isn’t used to preserving life, that was never really his cup of tea. He prefers breaking down his host, ( or their loved ones ) to their very limit, mentally and physically— till they're unrecognizable from humans or beasts.

Yet, now he does facial saturday’s with you / joins you in your everything showers / and lets you paint his nails any color you want.

It’s not that HABIT, gotten soft— he’s the same evil unforgiving ass mother fucker that possessed your boyfriend, ate a baby, and works with the fuckin slenderman and the rake, you cannot fix him.

HABIT lovesss to mock you, he loves making fun of his dumb little wife for asking ‘dumb questions’— he often flicks your forehead.

HABIT loves that you're a crybaby, he loves wiping your tears away condescendingly— like he wasn’t the one who caused them.

Most definitely daydreams about killing you.. more often than you’d expect— he especially thinks about it when yall are intimate. When HABIT holds you, tracing your body with his fingers— looks at you intensely like you're the only woman in the world— just knows he’s thinking about how you’d look if your organs were spilling out of your stomach.

HABIT unlike Toby can flirt— he never liked the whole brooding boyfriend type of thing— Evan had going on at times— HABIT in his words, ( not anyone else’s ) He’s a simply a little demon, a whimsical silly creature who does things for his own entertainment, and his current fun outside of fuckin’ with the EMH crew is fucking with you. ( sometimes literally )

May that be blowing into your ear, to make you shiver— or picking you up and carrying you, to see your shocked expression — or even holding you by your waist, while the EMH crew is around to embarrass you / prove a point to the group.

HABIT would do it especially when vinnie found out that he processed Evan— the shit eating grin, he would have as you invite Vinnie over to your place for dinner cause ‘he’s been looking stressed lately’ you’ll make Vinnie’s favorite meal, trying to make it feel like old times— but vinnie cannot even enjoy you and your thoughtfulness when your sitting on that monsters that’s cosplaying his best friends lap.. it’s making him sick.

‘Vinnie, are you okay? You.. look pale,’ you ask softly, drink in hand— you walk over to him, handing Vinnie a glass of water.

‘Yeahhh, Vinnie,’ you feel a strong pair of familiar arms wrap around your waist. ‘—What’s wrong buddy?’

ANYWHOO HABIT randomly telling you the most out of pocket shit and just smiles and says,

‘Sorry— hunnie, It’s a bad habit.’

[pastanest]

Spencer Reid x she/her!reader

A/N: just a short lil blurb idea I had whilst procrastinating from finishing my other two WIP’s xoxo

warning: implied age gap of reader being a “young woman”, but no specific reference to Spencer’s age, I just envision this as a very post-prison thing for him to do

Listen

“Excuse me, lady, but you don’t get to waltz in here and start ordering my officers around. This your first day on the job or something, sweetheart?” The local chief of police smirks down at you, condescension dripping from his every word.

That, coupled with his casual misogyny, is enough to have you smirking right back at him.

Shocker, another old-fashioned cop assuming that a young woman like you doesn’t know what she’s talking about. It’s almost laughable. Almost.

“FBI Agent first, ‘lady’ second, and ‘sweetheart’? Not under any circumstances. I’m here with the rest of my team to assist you on a case that you’ve requested our help to solve. You don’t like the way we do things? Raise a formal complaint. If you want this case solved, you’ll do well to listen to the advice given. This is far from my first case, and you are far from the first police chief to invalidate that.” Your voice is the epitome of cool, calm and collected.

Naturally, that only aggravates the ignorant man in front of you. More predictable than a- well, actually, there are few things more predictable than the fragile masculinity found in a man like this.

“I’ll be happy to listen to your boss before I take any orders from a girl with a mouth bigger than it ought to be.” The local chief of police eyes you up and down, as if to intimidate you by comparing your stature to his.

Much to his surprise - and absolute dismay - his efforts are in vain. This is made clear when a quiet laugh passes your lips and you lean back against the wall, crossing your arms over your chest and looking to your left.

Moments later, as though emerging from the shadows, Doctor Spencer Reid takes the few large strides necessary to reach your side. A formidable force, exacerbated by the dark scowl that’s etched into his features and directed at the local chief of police. Having not long returned from visiting a crime scene, he had overheard the conversation between you and elected to wait before he stepped in, hypothesizing both how far the ignorance would go, and how long he would be able to hear it before seeing red.

“If you value the continued use of your jaw, I’d advise you close it and listen. Disrespect Agent (Y/N) again and this entire precinct will suffer the consequences of your ignorance.” Spencer’s threat is eerily quiet and, while unprofessional by nature, the intent is understood to the extent that even a local chief of police wouldn’t dare call it into question.

The man caught in Spencer’s glare visibly shrinks, clears his throat, and pretends to find something to very quickly busy himself elsewhere. The glare follows him until he’s out of sight.

“I could have Garcia file a report severe enough to end that man’s career.” Spencer murmurs, gaze fixed on the door that the ignorance left through.

Turning to face Spencer, you smile up at him sweetly and pat his chest, your palm against his tie when the contact snaps his eyes back down to look at you.

“I think making him ruin his briefs in the workplace is punishment enough.” You joke lightly, your words enough to cause a smile to curl at the corner of Spencer’s mouth, a silent understanding caught in your locked gazes.

Nobody disrespects you and gets away with it, not so long as Doctor Spencer Reid is around to commit verbal homicide.

[daddyhausen]

｡ ･ : * ˚ : ✧ ｡ 「 PENTAGRAMS IN THE NIGHT SKY 」 ｡ ･ : * ˚ : ✧ ｡

｡ ･ : * ˚ : ✧ ｡ ｡ ･ : * ˚ : ✧ ｡ ｡ ･ : * ˚ : ✧ ｡ ｡ ･ : * ˚ : ✧ ｡ ｡ ･ : * ˚ : ✧ ｡

「 MASTERLISTS 」 | 「 BAND/MUSICIAN MASTERLIST 」 | 「 VESSEL MASTERLIST 」

「 COMMISION INFO 」 | 「 LIKE MY WORK? BUY ME A COFFEE — KOFI — DXDDYHXUSEN 」

｡ ･ : * ˚ : ✧ ｡ ｡ ･ : * ˚ : ✧ ｡ ｡ ･ : * ˚ : ✧ ｡ ｡ ･ : * ˚ : ✧ ｡ ｡ ･ : * ˚ : ✧ ｡

「 SUMMARY 」 — he waits in the shadows for your nightmares to paralyse you, to claim you body and soul all for himself.

「 WARNINGS 」 — 18+ [ MINORS DNI ] smut, somnophilia, dubcon, cnc, dom!vessel, sleep paralysis, demon!vessel, forced breeding, forced pregnancy, breeding kink, oral sex [ female receiving ] nipple play, biting, blood, fingering, multiple orgasms, male + female orgasms, internal cumshots, rough sex, unprotected sex, squirting, vaginal creampie

「 WORD COUNT 」 — 3k

「 PAIRING 」 — fem!reader x vessel

「 GENRE 」 — smut

｡ ･ : * ˚ : ✧ ｡ ｡ ･ : * ˚ : ✧ ｡ ｡ ･ : * ˚ : ✧ ｡ ｡ ･ : * ˚ : ✧ ｡ ｡ ･ : * ˚ : ✧ ｡

「 TAGLIST 」 — @thewrestlingbitch @omg-im-such-a-masochist @bayleymania @wardlow @alexisquinnlee-bc @sammiejane22 @im-just-a-mississippi-girl @omegasluvbot @melissahausen @writtingrose @drummergrl1310 @unoficialy-married-to-ace-austin @bonehead-playz @legit9thlunaticwarrior @crowleysqueenofhell @romanreigns-supreme @janetreader @thenerdybaker523 @sunshinevirus @nicoleveno14 @rubyred1980 @harmshake @igncrxntripley @ripleyswhore @embermdk @thepalaceofmelanie @seeingstarks @kennysbadkitten @darkangelchronicles @ripleyswife @selena-tyler-564 @auburnwriter @alyyaanna @nightmare-viper

「 COMMENT IF YOU WANT TO BE ADDED TO THE TAGLIST 」

you could feel it, the burn, flames sticking to your skin, melting the flesh and surfacing the bone underneath. the ache, the red of the fire, how it burned angry, vengeful against your fragile, weakened body. in between the flamed streaks laid the remains of what you’d once called a home, only mere smoke and ash now, and in there laid your burning body, trapped underneath rubble, blackened with soot. you could see yourself, outside of yourself as a third person looking in, a most ungodly sight to behold. and the wisps and crackles of the flames did nothing to quell or soothe your panic, only heighten the vicious sight before you.

your eyes shot open in a daze, a shaky gasp parting from chapped, dry lips. trying so desperately to quiet your mind, remove the nightmare from your thoughts, your skin still heated but was not burned, flesh and bone still intact. you let out a small sigh of relief, upon the realisation that you were unharmed, attempting to wipe the sweat that accumulated on your brow, only to find your arm numb, stuck to its position on the bed beside you, no matter how much you jolted and twitched it remained the same. your heart began to race, thumping hard against your chest like the crash of thunder that rang ever so often outside your bedroom window. you were asleep still, you knew that, put something about this predicament seemed far too real even for your standard of dreaming.

the left side of your bed dipped with a foreign weight, a hand came into view. inky jet black fingers met your viewline, palms rough and callouesed, intricate veins flowed like rivers on the back of the palm and up the forearm, pulsing softly as fresh blood flowed through them. it was a strong arm, masculine no doubt. rings adorned the slender fingers of the strange hand, ones of silver that shined against the black obsidian of the skin. you felt them, so gentle as they traced delicate lines across your skin, almost hesitant in their touches, you lay there, numb and unmoving, watching them shake and twitch as a thumb swiped the sweat from your forehead.

“don’t fear little dove, it was only a nightmare”

the voice was deep and coarse, the twinge of a british accent on the end of his words that made your stomach churn with worry. the words rang sinful from his lips, as his hand ran down your cheek, caressing the warm, mortal flesh. a face came into view…more so a masked one. one of pearly white, traced with gold and rubies that of blood red adorned around the maw. slits in his mask covered his eyes, three to be exact on each side, obscuring them from your vision, only the lower half of his face exposed, soft pouty lips outlined a row of sharp teeth, the canines the most prominent. he smiled, showing them off, looking as if he was about to take a bite out of you at any second.

he would notice the subtle twitch in your movements, how your fingers would shudder every few seconds trying to get a better grip on reality, while the remainder of your body laid frozen in place, paralysed by the weight of your own dream, or was this still your nightmare? his hand remained stagnant on your cheek, every few seconds, taking the time to swipe his thumb across the flesh gently, in soothing circles. your eyes welled with tears, in obvious fear, unsure exactly who or why this strange man… or whatever he was, was looming over you so omnipresently, so…domineering.

“now i know you're afraid, little dove, but i can assure you i bring you no harm” he noticed the tears streaming down your cheeks

“no no…do not cry…”

you could see his pupils dilate behind the slits of his mask, how the shroud would fall over the top if it, shielding them from your gaze.

“relax little dove. the paralysis is only temporary”

his eyes darkened momentarily, keeping the outstretched hand stagnant on your cheek, his thumb adjusting itself only to wipe away stray tears, an inky streak leaving stains in the corners of your eyes from where his flesh made contact.

yet you could not relax. how could you? your mind was wide awake yet your body frozen in time, and to make it worse, this large domineering…thing… you could hardly call him a man despite his corporeal form being akin to one, practically levitated above you.

he noticed the ink smear across your cheek, a primal sensation grew in his belly, something about it felt so primative, so raw to him, a piece of him left behind on your mortal flesh. he was only supposed to provide comfort in your weakest hour. to comfort your mind when your body could not. yet…he wanted to provide more, relax where your fingers could not reach, soothe with words your tongue could not provide.

“little dove…forgive me…”

his body ever looming over yours, growing closer as he brought himself in. his lips painfully close to yours, tongue teasing your cupid’s bow with the words he spoke.

“but i must..i need to”

his lips fan over yours before meeting. your eyes widen with the sudden contact, flickering wildly, still trying to adjust the the sight of him under the dull moonlight, just the flicker of his mask, a milky pearl in colour, even more so up close, and the reds like garnets and specks of gold leaf reflect in your eyes.

his maw opened, revealing sharp canines that prodded at your bottom lip leaving indentations in their wake as they parted, tasting the cherry and cream of your lip balm with a shudder. despite the interaction, despite your lack of say or movement in the matter, you couldn't help but melt into the kiss, the stubble wafts of his breath fluttering against your skin as he pulled away, observing the swollen red petals with lustful adoration. how despite parting, your lips still connected by a thin lips of spit. he hummed at the sight, licking the inky blacked-out curve of his cupid’s bow, savouring the subtle cherry flavour on his tongue.

he shifted his weight. his thighs resting dangerously close to your cunt, nestled against your inner thigh. despite your warmth being shielded by your panties, you could still feel the coolness of his skin, touch featherlight, feeling like light snowflakes against your flesh. you let out a small whimper, it was the only thing you could do in your semi-stasis state. vessel’s ears pricked up at the sound, with a soft hum.

“hmm? you like that my little dove?”

his words like velvet in her ears, drawing out any semblance of rational thought you had left. he left you entranced, enraptured, entwined by the silk ropes of his tongue. he pressed his knee against your clothed cunt, swirling against it slightly. your cunt pooled with warmth, slick with arousal for the strange demon that resided above you.

“oh…so wet already…mmm, didn’t think you’d submit so easy, my sweet”

his voice rumbled deep within his throat, evident by the way his throat contorted with a goan. his cock growing hard behind the confines of his shrouds, the appendage pressing, throbbing against the thin fabric. your stomach swirled with desire in spite of your mind resisting, failing to miserably.

“need to feel your flesh on my tongue…” his fingers raked down from your cheek, a hand shaky in their movements. trailing cautiously down, featherlight touches only separated your skin from his by your shirt. he let the fabric mingle with his skin, savouring the sensation as his palm ghosted across the peak of your breast, feeling the supple mound, groping it, squeezing it, eventually revealing them from beneath the fabric.

“so divine…” he muttered through clenched teeth, trying to stifle a moan as your breasts became revealed before him. your nipples perked and stiffened as the winter chill graced them. behind the mask’s vessel’s eyes widened, he’d never witnessed a woman reverared with such beauty before. he felt the need to fall to his knees before, worship your body with his tongue, repent and relinquish himself solely to you.

“a goddess baring herself before me…”

vessel’s throat tightened with a gulp, his breath teased your nipple, tongue barely jutting out to hesitantly lick at the peak, the bud glistening with his spit under moonlight. he noticed the subtle eye roll on your behalf, noticing you could not do more than moan and whine. he smiled. a devilish one at that, one that boarded on the like between endearing and threatening, one that showed his canines on full display. he had you firmly under his tongue.

“my dear…i shall revel in your flesh…i shall show you no mercy”

he gave another lick to your nipple, wrapping his lips around the perky bud, sucking greedily like a fawn feasting at its mother’s teat. his tongue swirled around the bud, a hand wrapped around the mound of your breast, massaging the soft flesh, his cock hardening, standing fully mast in his shrouds, throbbing against your inner thighs.

“i shall not adhere to your cries…and you shall enjoy it”

his free hand was quick with its movements. shuffling past the barrier of your panties, a evident wet spot present. it did not surprise him, you’ve already proven submissive enough already. his inky digits part your folds, slick with your own wetness as he explores deeper.

“mmm” he hums, feeling the stretch of your cunt around his fingers.

“so wet… so warm…”

your eyes widen at the sudden intrusion, your cunt clenching instinctively to forcibly eject him out, although your attempts proved futile, it only aroused vessel further. in response, he sunk his fingers deeper, thumb drawing rough, rigid shaped against your sensitive clit.

“you dare reject me…? oh little dove…” his words mutter against your breast, the flat of his tongue rippled against your nipple with every syllable.

“your rejection only fuels my desire”

he bares his teeth, clamping down around your breast. enough to cause a substantial amount of pain, yet your body’s lack of response and overall paralysis only emphasises his statements. he pulls away with haste, removing his teeth, indentations litter with small specks of crimson in their wake, his teeth stained with that same iron-flavoured sweetness, he licked them clean, savouring the taste.

“you’re lucky, sweet thing, that i did not split your pristine skin more…” he was breathless from the sudden blood-rush.

“but oh gods i wish i did…you’re so…intoxicating…”

his teeth bared again with another sinister smile.

“but i shall hold my tongue…i have plenty of time to sample you again”

the lanky digits of his right hand hooked into your panties, shuffling them down your motionless legs with intense vigour, grool clinging to the fabric, cunt soaked in wait for him. vessel stifled a grunt, his lips parting as his tongue spread across his bottom one.

“gods…” his voice barely above a whisper, muttering subtle curses and praises simultaneously. how you tease and tempt him with your luscious thighs and dripping void, yet he’s so willing to accept the offer, inviting himself into your warmth, drowning in your wetness. he could die happy, your mortal flesh consumed by him.

“now i claim you, for you have presented yourself so willingly to me…”

vessel monologues, the sound of his voice drowned out by other senses. fear and panic overriding your being. he spoke so surely that you were willing to engage with him so frivolously, when in fact he was the one manoeuvring your figure, oddly gentle yet careless at the same time.

“oh and i will enjoy tainting your flesh, my love…” he began to free himself from the confines of his shrouds.

“every waking moment, every dream-filled night, you let your mind drift and you shall warm your loins to the thoughts of me”

his voice, a growl, animalistic and primal. his cock now freed, blackened by the same ink that stained the rest of his body, it prodded at the supple meat of your inner thigh, moving towards your folds, gathering your wetness on the tip of it. he shuddered, the sight almost too much for him, his cock twitching with primal desire. in an instant you felt so full. vessel made no attempt to ease himself inside. the stretch burned, your cunt not fully lubricated to take him with the force and speed he provided. you went to scream, however the paralysis reminded you that your throat had been forcibly shut, vocal chords shredded.

“fuck…” he growled, almost buckling under the weight of the pleasure, your tight cunt clenching around him, once again, trying to force him out.

“oh no… no you don’t little dove.” he panted, already beginning to thrust at a voracious pace. “you let me in now…you just lay there…and take every inch of me”

he bottomed out, his entire length sinking deep within you. his cockhead forcing itself through the meaty ring of your cunt, prodding harshly against your cervix with vicious movements resembling that of a dagger.

“you feel like sin, my love…” his tongue lopped out past his lips, licking hot stripes against your flesh, burying his head into your neck.

“so fucking perfect…so tight…” he gasped in pleasure… “i may not last long if you continue to clench around me like this…”

vessel’s moans ring around your bedroom, his robes now discarded by your bedside, the glow of the moonlight illuminated his obsidian skin, you could not take your eyes from him, not that you had a choice to look anywhere else, he practically eclipsed your figure, manoeuvring your limbs like a ventriloquist would his puppet. allowing you to bend and break, submit to him all at his free will.

“let me position you better…so you can feel me entirely”

he repositions your legs so that they rested atop his shoulders. he lowered himself, pressing his hips against yours so he could fuck you deeper. he had you folded in half, his meaty cock driving into you with full force.

“going to fill you…your womb shall home my spawn”

his grunts grow more feverish by the minute, you could feel the visceral throb of his cock increase.

“would you enjoy that? forced to birth my spawn? to be my subservient queen? to rule the underworld together?”

he paused, giving a rough thrust.

“oh i know you would, little dove. i could tell by the way those eyes bore into mine”

he gave another thrust.

“by the way that pretty cunt clenches around me…you want to be mine…”

vessel grows more feverish at the thought, to watch your womb round and swell, to have to be barefoot and pregnant roaming the halls of his hellish estate. you his queen, subservient to only him. he noticed the tears streaming down your cheeks, his gaze softened slightly, his lips curling downward into a small frown.

“no tears my love…shh…” he whispered against your cheeks. “i do not deserve to have those tears wasted on me…”

in what felt almost heartfelt on his behalf, when you thought the dominant facade was beginning to slip, instead of peppering your cheeks with sweet, reassuring kisses, his tongue lips out of his mouth once more, licking your tears in a final attempt to mock you.

his cock throbbed deeply in your cunt, no revelation that his release was upon him. he was not one to simply let his orgasm arrive unannounced. he increased his speed, the force of his thrusts was almost enough to shatter your pelvis…and you could feel him holding back from doing so.

“little dove…you’re going to take every drop and savour it…”

his grunts grew more animalistic as he progressed, the clench of his abdomen was indicative of his closeness, how it quivered as it slammed into you the close he got.

“mmm fuck…”

he gave a final thrust, your belly immediately swelled with his warmth, so much so that he was dripping from within you. he grew ravenous, blinded by lust and need.

“you’re mine…all mine!”

he pulled out of you, his cock still leaking with cum in the process. some of the feeling begins to return to your limbs as you hesitantly, weakly attempt to move. your toes and fingertips twitching slightly.

“no no…i’m not done with you yet, little dove” he pulled you back by the ankles, positioning himself between your thighs once more. his breath fanned against your clit, as his tongue made teasing movements towards it.

“need to taste myself in you…” he mewled. “need to make sure you don’t waste a single drop of my seed”

vessel’s lips wrap around your clit, the aching pearl overstimulated from the previous abuse of his fingers. he hummed into you, sucking greedily at the nub.

“you taste so good mixed with me, my love…” it wasn’t just lust in his eyes, but pure obsession, one that you would not hesitate to threaten him over. but as he lay face buried between your thighs, devouring you, you could not help but lay back and enjoy it, the wonders he provided, the spells of pleasure he cast with his tongue was nothing short of marvellous.

he let two fingers spread your dripping folds, pushing his seed back into your void in a greedy attempt to secure you all to himself. you heard a low chuckle rip through his throat, the rumble vibrating against your swollen clit.

“mmm…” his. breathing quickened as he felt your cunt begin to pulse around his lanky fingers ebbing closer to orgasm. his words came out in harsh, unintelligible whispers, coercing you to savour his seed. he’ll let you cum eventually, but not until he’s certain that he’s filled your womb. his slender fingers pumped into your void at a rapid pace, curling upwards as he forced his cum deeper into you.

“accept all of me, little dove…that’s it…”

his tongue drew shapes against your cunt, tasting himself. the sweetness of your skin mixed with the vile concoction of his seed did not deter him. if anything it made him more enamoured. he grew feverish, his cock hardening again. his lips clasped around your clit, teeth lightly grinding the sensitive nub between them. his large hands wrapped around your thighs, pulling you onto his tongue, letting the appendage sink deeper into your already full void. he moaned into you, devouring you with such violent intent.

“oh?” he mumbled into your cunt. “you enjoy this?”

his arousal spiked, his hips grinding languidly against the mattress, noticing the way your cunt clenched with desire around him, so desperate for your own release, you were chasing it, in hopes he would allow it.

“you enjoy the idea of being full of my seed?”

you could not help but mewl at the idea, despite your current predicament, the paralysis on your throat and voice wearing off slowly, allowing you to make small utterances of pleasure in response to his touches, now featherlight, slowly ebbing an orgasm from your walls. vessel smiles, pearly whites flashing in between the shadowy corporeal buds of his lips. feeling the movement of his mouth between your thighs.

your walls began to throb around his fingers, feeling them curl upward, allowing your arousal to spiral out of control. vessel marvels at the sight, the numbness in your thighs begins to subside with soft trembles, the familiar pulse of orgasm rising, feeling it tingle up your spine, feeling the breath catch in your lungs as you teetered on the edge of pleasure. his voice was soft yet his intention remained the same. he wanted to feel you unravel before him.

“your tainted flesh is mine to consume, mine to control…and i command you to release”

his fingers dug into your core with vicious pumps, controlling and commanding the instinctive clench of your cunt around them. your skin burned, like white hot flames of desire for the strange being, who’d effectively ruined your body for his own pleasure. the bite mark on your breast, the depressions of his teeth circled your nipple already beginning to swell and bruise in splotches. your orgasm hits you like a wave, building and building before finally crashing, your warmth cascading down your trembling thighs. vessel admired the sight, how your skin glistened with your sweetness under pale moonlight, how his taste buds danced with the taste of you. he lets out a guttural moan in response, his cock aching with release as he wastes his seed on your bedsheets, the appendage throbbing and swollen, a fiery red upon orgasm from grinding against the mattress.

he savoured your taste, enjoying how well you mingled with his. his head rested upon your inner thigh while he regained his breath, the intricate spirals of his mask poking the flesh. he sighed contently, placing chaste kisses to the skin, an odd sensation considering how relentless and unforgiving he was mere moments ago. you welcomed it, welcomed the feeling of his tongue swirling hot shapes into the skin.

you finally came to, your muscles still ache from paralysis, the weight of him heavy on your chest as he repositioned himself above you, his head now buried in the crook of your neck, peppering soft kisses to the tops of your shoulders. you felt oddly comfortable beneath him, listening to the shallow wisps of his breath, the dull throb of his hellish heart beating within his chest. his fingers draw shapes in the valley between your breasts, almost as if he was inscribing his name into your skin.

“i shall return tomorrow evening” his words separated by small pants of breath.

“i will not relent until you accept me, my love”

｡ ･ : * ˚ : ✧ ｡ ｡ ･ : * ˚ : ✧ ｡ ｡ ･ : * ˚ : ✧ ｡ ｡ ･ : * ˚ : ✧ ｡ ｡ ･ : * ˚ : ✧ ｡

[alicvnt]

sweetheart. ⑊ part, 𝒾.

content warnings. -> mdni. smut. afab. fem!reader. cunnilingus. dom + sub undertones. pet names. fluff, with dark undertones. obsessive & possessive behaviors. dad bf!aemond.

+. hihi. !! ♥︎ i’m having lots of sweet, dreamy thoughts about dad bf!aemond…soo i wrote this. also. !! this will be a new lil au with dad [modern] bf aemond 𝓍 sweetheart!reader. hope y’all enjoy & pls send asks abt aemond & sweetheart cause i wanna write more about them. <333

as many know, aemond targaryen is quite the stoic man, silent yet observant, his silver tongue allowing him to be charming, persuasive, giving him the ability and blessing to claim your heart as his. aemond is known to be the type of man who exudes a special type of casual, masculine dominance over his peers, and especially over you.

you’re his soft spot, his ultimate weakness, and yet aemond wouldn’t have it any other way.

aemond loves you, that much he is most certain of— you’re his, his, his, and aemond is very much aware of your feelings, that you love being with him, being his, you’re his sweetheart, the girl of his dreams… his future wife and mother to his children, his little love.

now, aemond wouldn’t consider himself to be a jealous man, no, his possessiveness comes from the pure, eternal love that he feels for you, and luckily, you don’t seem to mind his possessiveness, too blinded by the love you felt for him to notice the beige flags slowly turning into red.

aemond was very much aware that, as a little girl, you always had been a shy, needy little thing, desperate to be coddled and loved, yearning for your heart to be filled by a type of love that wasn’t your father’s— wanting to belong, to be seen and cared for, something your father never gave to you, yet aemond did so happily and without complaint.

aemond gave you everything— his body, heart and soul, he was all yours, completely and utterly yours.

and so, aemond took on the challenge of chasing you, wanting to claim you completely— mind, body, heart and soul. “you’re mine, sweetheart— do y’hear me? mine, all fucking mine,” he declares, his voice a low rasp but firm, honest, intense yet loving, making him appear almost boyish, his dilated eye locked onto your perfect, womanly form, hypnotized by your enchanting beauty.

you were a goddess in aemond’s mind, ethereal, surely the embodiment of the maiden made in human form.

hushed, sweet nothings were whispered obsessively against the soft, smooth skin of your inner thighs, promises of aemond’s unconditional love and devotion, his large, masculine hands grabbing your thighs with a desperate, harsh grip as he takes in the sight of your pretty, tiny cunt, all wet and needy and his.

gently, aemond blew on your flushed cunt, his violet eye sparkling with amusement at the way your puffy little clit twitches for him, needy and greedy for his affection and attention.

softly, aemond hummed, amused and starved with his hardening arousal, inhaling the sweet, feminine scent of your perfect fucking cunt, and without further delay, aemond buried his face against you, your cries and breathy moans of ecstasy making his long, thick cock throb and leak some of his liquid pleasure, surely making a stain against his silk bedsheets.

“mmh, oh! aemond, d-daddy— please,” you beg, innocent and sweet, your dainty hands reaching out, needing more, more of aemond, desperate to feel him.

aemond smirked, immediately releasing his rough hold on your plush thighs, intertwining his long, deft fingers through yours, humming to himself as he felt how soft and small your hands were compared to his as he held both of yours— his sweet, fragile girl.

your hands were instantly clinging onto your boyfriend’s as he continued suckling your rosy bud into his wicked mouth, stimulating the tiny, swollen nub until you were panting, your bare breasts heaving, nipples beautifully swollen from his attention earlier, skin flushed and damp with sweat, your pretty doe eyes heavy lidded and pupils blown wide with your pleasure, making you look all the more beautiful to aemond as your hips bucked up against his face, so sweet and delicious and eager for him.

“mmh….don’t worry, sweetheart, daddy will take care of his sweet girl— f-fuck, you taste so fucking sweet, baby,” aemond purrs, now feral with his hunger for you, obsessed with your taste, making him eagerly bury his tongue back into your weeping hole, fucking you relentlessly with it for several minutes, tasting your heavenly ambrosia that was meant only for him devour.

and for the first time in a long time, with your addicting, heavenly taste on his tongue, clouding his senses as he continues to feast upon your beautiful, drooling cunt, aemond felt complete, all thanks to his precious sweetheart, all thanks to you.

[ai-musclebound]

He stands like a beast carved from stone, every fiber of his body pulsating with power. The thick coat of hair covering his chest only enhances the raw masculinity that radiates from him – primal, untamed, a force of nature encased in muscle. His arms, massive and veined like ancient tree roots, frame his face as he stares ahead, daring anyone to look away. Every inch of him is a contradiction – brutal, yet controlled; imposing, yet mesmerizing. There’s no trace of softness here, no room for fragility. This is the result of relentless hunger, of a life spent defying limitations. His body is not just a vessel but a statement, a declaration of dominance over the iron, over pain, over himself. And now his gaze finds you – locked, unwavering. He knows what you're thinking. Knows that the sight of him, the sheer scale of him, leaves you breathless. A slow smirk tugs at the corner of his lips, as if he can hear the thoughts racing through your mind. “Go on,” his eyes seem to say. “Take it all in.” How long can you endure his stare before surrendering to the intensity of it all?

[amphitriteswife]

Can you make a Samuel Seo OnlyFans Hc's please 😭🙏 Thank youuu

Samuel seo onlyfans HC

Source: Lookism

Character: Samuel Seo

Warnings: nsfw content

.

.

.

👓 Samuel would blurr his face, maybe show his jawline or make the picture that way that you can see his body but the phone covers his face. After all his work and career could get in danger if he shows his face. It doesn’t actually help because from the tattoos it’s very easy to guess who it is

👓 He’s the type to caption his videos normally. For example he would caption it ‘going out for a walk.’ Inly to find out that he’s filming his lower half when he’s walking outside, the sight of his massive print in his pants almost taking up the whole screen.

👓 Is actually open to have sex with other people and post about it. He would be very rough and dominant. It’s his ‘style.’ It would involve slapping, face grabbing, choking and overall very top like stuff. You have to be into that type of stuff if you actually want to participate in it, it’s a regular thing. If you don’t then he’s not really for you. Might add BDSM into that i suppose

👓 Samuel is the type to actually do asmr but not in an outright sexual way. His viewers would know what he means but others wouldn’t. He also focuses a lot on his hands in those scenarios or his chest. His tattoos also play a huge roll into his roleplay, many find them endearing or rather sexy. So why not use it against his own benefit? There would be scenarios of him being your boss, your trainer, your teacher. Any role where he is above you. (He has a inferiority complex for a reason-)

👓 it’s not necessary his own doing but a lot of people use his body or voice for captions or advertisements. It wouldn’t be a surprise if you come across a video of boyfriend asmr with his face of body. He doesn’t really care for it to be honest as long as it doesn’t get out of hand. If it does you’ll get your ass beat.

👓 He doesn’t actually use many toys. He isn’t fond of them and prefers to do things ‘the natural way’ what does this mean? It means that he’s either jerking off or actually having sex with someone. He might use cock rings for example or gags. But not self pleasuring toys, it’ll bruise his ego quite a lot although he would NEVER admit it. Why use toys when you can have sex with him? He’ll never understand it and frankly will never see reason with it.

👓 Samuel would let you beg for him, not only will it feed into his own apparently fragile ego but it’s also a fetish thing. He’ll deny and tease you a lot simply to hear those words come out your mouth. He’ll have that satisfied grin on his face when you say it too. He could be generous at times and sometimes give in easier than other times but that purely depends on his own mood or when he feels like it.

👓 to take a look in his pants: 19 cm. Easily probably the biggest in the verse (he’s PTJ’s fan service). Right amount of veins and prides himself in it. Purely because he thinks it looks masculine that way. Actually doesn’t have a much obvious curve. It’s rather more straight forward. Thickness is pretty evenly divided and the tip is cut yes. He’s very clean as we saw a few times in the manhwa, sprays perfume and stuff as well as grooming and using make up. This also applies to the x-ray. He actually had laser treatment and he smells really nice during sex. He also doesn’t sweat easily.

👓 His watch will probably stay on during sex. He also has big hands which will play a part during it. He’s actually very good with his hands. Both when it comes to fingering or just touching your body. No he doesn’t do fisting, he’s crazy but not that crazy okay.

👓 When it comes to role play during sex it’s usually the topics i had already stated before in the asmr section of this post. But he would also take it to rather extreme scenarios. Such as cheating for example. It’s not real but it definitely feeds his ego in some twisted way to know someone choses him over someone else. And frankly if he were to know you actually had a partner and you cheated on them with him he wouldn’t care. I think he doesn’t have his morals straight and doesn’t see it as his problem.

That’s all for now yall😔⭐️

[scribbles-and-sprinkles]

hii, i would love to see your take of a fem aroace!reader with the allies 🙏🙏

yandere! allies x aro/ace! reader - england & america

─── notes ➤ reader is implied to have disability for realism purposes, being late teenager / young adult + for ease of enjoyment -- ‘luna’ is placeholder for the reader’s name ;w; thank you so much for such lovely request! remaining allies are coming in the following days! long post ahead! ─── warnings ➤ abuse of political power / manipulation / questionable power dynamics / darker sensuality / controlling behaviour / isolation amongst others.

arthur o'neil kirkland / england

Arthur deemed himself as someone proud – man of the culture, wisdom and fixed values. As a reverent kingdom and empire of the past – certain notions never left his heart. Oh, you were his favourite, apple of the eye – even if did not dare to admit such reverence out loud. If circumstances should be different – of course, without hesitation, he would find himself steering away from any closer, more intimate relationships with mortals. Their lifetime was bound by fixed laws and mechanics, while land transcended centuries to behold. It was simply easier to avoid entertaining the heart-ache; sorrow – by circumventing such situations at all. But… how could he resist?

ᯓ★

Porcelain tea-cup clicked smoothly against the table, adorned with intricate, vintage floral patterns – from much older, chaotic times. By kindness of his truly. Faded, green eyes fixated for a brief on thoughtful expression etched into her gentle features. Something was going on – unspoken tension lingering for weeks now. Irony laid open – hoping that maybe, in a way – his sweetheart could trust him enough to reveal… specifics. ‘Arthur, darling… it is just I’ve been terribly unlucky with people around me… well…’ – oh, how her heart yearned to find enough bravery to gather thoughts fully into something comprehensible, but, alas. Her friend was much better at such a state of affairs than she could ever be. ‘Luna, what is going on? I am worried for you, and it deeply saddens me’ ‘It is just… people around me find themselves very happy in romantics, so easily. As if it was somehow universally understood, I don’t know…’ – dainty fingers trembled under the weight of never-ending accusations of mind; steady hands wrapping around shakiness as if to provide the slightest bit of comfort. ‘I really tried my best! I did! – and he seemed really kind, or I thought so… how could I have been so blind? Arthur, he merely entertained his own needs, physical ones–’ ‘Y-you warned me… I should’ve listened, I-I–’ – thought wavered over silence; tiny hiccups filling up the space with peculiar sorrow. Pure, unbridled vermillion blossomed in sight, reality spinning. Good heavens, help his soul. He was too old for this. Knuckles tightened until whites over the poor edge of the table, almost tipping it over – the girl ushered into a hug immediately. There were traditional, fixed ideals of what constituted a good and proper image of human interaction – especially, between opposite genders. Femininity consisted of warmth, grace – and fragility, intertwined with the need of masculine notions to protect, cherish, love its' existence. Such values, deeply ingrained in margins of consciousness, never wavered – and this went against everything Arthur could hold dear. That is, his darling. And if others would not conform to this – he would. However, this little… the issue would have to be solved quietly. No inference was necessary. Few days passed – the soul disappearing into silence; under charges of treason and conspiracy against the United kingdom and surrounding territories. He was ended switfly after. ᯓ★ headcanons! Darling, sweetheart, apple of his eye – you were absolutely his favourite – through and through. outside, arthur would be an ideal image of gentleman – from tactful behaviour to the very last word – all orchestrated, calculated, measured. Millenia of existence gave enough tools and time to perfect the art. That is not to misunderstand, he loved her – truly. Maybe in a more sentimental way – finding comfort in the very traditional dynamic of being the provider, the pillar of the home. Any attempt to carry more weight than the subtle role provided would be met with sweet-honey words of manipulation – immediately stopping any possibility of rebellion. Physical manifestation of darling’s disability would become the greatest tool of social isolation – were people not staring enough, talking behind your back in the study halls, speaking rumoured whispers – so… why should Luna entertain such ruckus, if she could be perfectly content with being his sweetheart? The queerplatonic relationship concept in itself – was not something old, reverent ways ought to be understood, but as long this dynamic remained – he would be more than happy to entertain such an idea. You had no idea what sort of sweet-honey trap you have gotten yourself into.

alfred franklin jones / america Soft, hazy lights filled up cozy space – Alfred shifting to be slightly closer, ghosting hand above small of the waist, not daring… to hold on, yet. Just yet. Every single conversation like this grated at the very last remnants of already frayed nerves. ‘Pfft, again? People have nothing better to do nowadays, really’ – he merely snickered, pinching the edge of his nose out of new-found frustration. These stories were starting to get hold of his psyche. ‘So, wait, what happened between Gabriel and Samantha?’ ‘As I was saying, Alfie – it was very sudden! One second they were in love in our class, another – screaming at once, another as the switch flipped over. As I was a friend of his – just a good acquaintance, you know – he asked for a favour, obviously’ – soft laugh filled the room, girl swatting imaginary nargles; expression full of sincerity. Way-too-happy girl was picked up with such ease, him merely nuzzling close, getting a few more giggles out. As affection could infer into deeper sources of the mind; dragging hidden, secluded parts into light. ‘Oh, you’re too sweet, ahahah!’ ‘It is the least I can do, darlin’, go on, I'm listening! You gotta tell me! Your little legs, careful!’ What favour? Nothing about this entirety of story played to be good-willing act of service. Pathetic, to say the least – eye twitching, jaw tensing up until teeth grated against each other in disastrous symphony; slender fingers digging just a little too much into the softness of her hip. Smiling until cheeks bled dry with falsified semblance. ‘Oh, yeah, thaaat! So, there was this kind of silly party last weekend, which we went together because he asked to get this revenge thingy going on, you see?’ ‘That’s great! How did it go? Must’ve been a blast!’ – plentitude of soft kisses peppered across rosy cheeks, as the girl swaddled him away in the most tender fashion; feeling… how pliant form became under hold, finding himself… just a bit closer. ‘Totally! Yeah, we might have gotten a bit… drunk, but it was all in good fun!’ ‘Yeah, sweets, in good fun�� – all it took – a few moments – Luna toppled over with such ease; his wrists holding his sunshine down – even if ache gnawed between arches of ribs through guilt. ‘What’s that? Huh? I thought I meant something for you?’ – with calculated, gentle touch fingertip ghosted above the collarbone, over faint marks. This entire situation blossomed into full circus with additional flair to follow… and it shall not be entertained any longer. ‘Do you even remember anything, mm?’ – little prefix as if flaunting clear mockery. ‘We just crashed at his place, nothing happened, Al! You know how clumsy I can be with my cane, you’re being ridiculous!’ “I dunno, angel, bruises on neck don’t kinda magically happen overnight… and we’re very sure you don’t recall shit. So… this leaves only one conclusion’ – starry, ocean blue eyes. These eyes, impossibly livid, entrancing with hypnotic dance of reverent hues. Glittering, sparkling, floating. ‘I-I- I’ve been–’ – Luna choked, world dizzyingly nauseous too suddenly, tears simmering in waterfalls over honest accusation of truth, entire frame wracked by sobs – enveloped in dizzyingly addicting warmth. Unconsciously, instinctively the entire form arched for him, for him only so prettily – as always meant to be – mere intention making his head spin with desire, want, need – to end this theatrics there and now – to claim, to devour, to make his sunshine happy. ‘Shh, I’ve got you…’

ᯓ★ headcanons!

Brighter than the sun – burning brighter than stars above heavens – america himself, independent and fierce– this is who alfred represented – force, larger than life itself; reflected from golden strands shimmering in the light until boundless positivity, seeping from every hug – every little affection he was entitled, privileged to give. You were his sunshine, his beloved! With beautiful energy and softness, meant only for him to indulge in – it was a life worth living! His beloved was a blessing from the gods, even if her love expression, or affection ways were different – yet, unspoken naivety, trust – it was a steep price to pay. It was impossible to understand – where friendship bounds ended or dark, obsessive devotion began. Of course, humans needed one another – it was an essential part of our being, ingrained into very core, into bones and narrows of the flesh – isolating fragility beyond promises could not be optional, but it could be beautifully contained. Nothing… nothing few nights of forgetful sleep, with skillful essence blossoming under hazy, sweet tea – and pliant, gentle form could not fix. There was no need to poison essences of mind with CIA agents, reverberating screams across walls or legal procedures, after all. Everything was provided, handed on the golden platter – most gorgeous of dresses, art supplies, position in the best of the universities – best healthcare – all hidden between gentlest hugs, softest cuddles and lingering kisses on the forehead. His sunshine looked incredibly beautiful as a little bird in a golden cage.

[cheynovak]

 Something fragile

Soldier Boy x F/Reader Y/N        

Warnings: Toxic masculinity, cursing, violence, alcohol drug use, cursing, mentioning of sex, I think that’s it? ... 

Side note: English isn’t my first language 

Words: 6600  

*Does not follow the boys storyline *

--  

Soldier boy just got out of Russia thanks to the boys. But his journey back to reality has been fucked up. Streets are filled with rainbow colours and new pussy looking heroes. Streets were even more crowded, nothing seemed the same anymore. And to top it all off he had some severe ptsd and a new superpower. 

After the explosion he ran to recover his blackout, meeting y/n a young woman on her way home from volunteering at the veteran shelter. Seeing how he looked confused, offering him help.  

-- 

Ben, known to the world as Soldier Boy, stumbled through the bustling streets of downtown New York. The sun was blinding after so many years in the dark, cold confines of a Russian facility.  

Forty years of captivity had left his mind in a haze, his body in a state of perpetual tension. Every sound, every face, was an assault on his senses. He blinked against the garish lights of electronic billboards and the incessant buzz of smartphones.  

People moved past him in waves, their faces buried in glowing screens, oblivious to the world around them. Ben felt like he had stepped into a dream, a strange, incomprehensible dream. As he walked, his eyes darted from one unfamiliar sight to another.  

Men holding hands, walking side by side with easy intimacy. Ben's lips curled into a reflexive sneer. He couldn't help it; the world he had known was gone, replaced by something that felt alien and uncomfortable.  

The 1980s had their problems, but this? This was beyond his understanding. He rubbed his temples, trying to stave off the headache building behind his eyes. The memories of his captivity were like shadows, lurking at the edges of his mind, ready to pounce the moment he let his guard down. He had to stay focused, had to keep moving.  

As he passed a café, the smell of coffee and pastries wafted out, mingling with the scents of car exhaust and city grime. Ben's stomach growled, reminding him that he hadn't eaten a decent meal in ages. He paused, glancing around warily, wishing he had a few dollars in his pocket.  

Lost in thought, a voice pulled his attention away from the widow. "Excuse me, are you okay sir?" Ben looked up to see a young woman with concern in her eyes. "Yeah" He wanted to walk on. “Are you eh, hungry or thirsty something?” Ben looked confused at her. “I can get you something if you want?” she added in a sweet voice. 

“Let a woman buy me a fucking coffee? What a fucking pussy would that make me.” and he walked on. 

Ben continued down the street, the sights and sounds of the modern world were overwhelming, a constant reminder of how much time had passed and how out of place he was. As he walked, a familiar melody reached his ears. It was faint, but unmistakable, the haunting strains of a Russian folk song that had played endlessly in the lab where they had experimented on him.  

The song was a cruel reminder of his years of suffering, a soundtrack to his nightmares. His pulse quickened, and his vision blurred. The world around him seemed to tilt, and he could feel the panic rising, his breath coming in short, shallow gasps.  

The radiation within him, the cursed gift of his captivity, began to stir, responding to his heightened emotional state. Suddenly, without warning, a burst of energy erupted from his chest. The street around him exploded in a violent flash of light and heat. The force of the blast shattered windows, sent cars flying, and threw pedestrians to the ground.  

Screams filled the air as chaos erupted. Ben staggered, disoriented and horrified by the idea what he had done. He had no control over this power, no way to stop it once it started. The destruction was immense, and he could hear the wails of the injured and the dying.  

His heart pounded in his chest. Y/N heard the explosion and felt the shockwave. She had been walking away from the café, thinking about the troubled man she had just met. When she saw the devastation and the panicked crowd, her first instinct was to help.  

She pushed her way through the throngs of fleeing people, her heart racing with fear and determination. She spotted him through the smoke and debris, standing in the centre of the chaos, looking lost and broken. She rushed to his side, her eyes wide with shock at the scene around her.  

"Hey, are you okay?" she asked, reaching out to touch his arm. The heat radiating from his body made her flinch, but she didn't back away. "I... I didn't mean to..." Ben stammered, over and over. Y/N looked around, her mind racing. She had to get him away from here, away from the people he might hurt.  

"We need to get you out of here," she said firmly. "Come with me." Ben nodded, dazed and compliant. He allowed her to lead him away from the scene of destruction, away from the horror he had unleashed. They ducked into an alley, where the noise of the city was slightly muffled, and Y/N took a moment to catch her breath.  

"Listen," she said, her voice urgent but calm. "I don't know what happened to you, but you're not alone, okay? I'll help you." Ben looked at her. "Why are you helping me?" "Because you need it," Y/N replied simply. "And because everyone deserves a chance."  

Ben nodded slowly, the weight of his guilt and fear still heavy on his shoulders. Y/N supported Ben as they walked through the quieter streets, her arm around his waist to steady him. His weight pressed heavily against her, but she didn't falter. She was determined to help him, no matter what it took.  

The path they took was familiar to her, one she had walked many times on her way to the veteran help centre where she volunteered. The centre was closed at this hour, but Y/N had a key. She glanced around to make sure no one was watching before unlocking the door and guiding Ben inside.  

The cool, dim interior was a stark contrast to the chaos outside, a sanctuary from the madness of the world. "Sit here," Y/N said softly, helping Ben into a chair in the small break room. She quickly moved to the kitchenette, grabbing a bottle of water and a granola bar from the cupboards.  

She handed them to Ben, who took them with trembling hands. "What's this shit?" he muttered, his voice barely audible. But still opening the drink. Y/N sat across from him, ignoring his muttering complains, watching as he opened the bottle and took a sip. She could see the exhaustion etched into his features, the lines of pain and weariness that spoke of years of torment.  

"You're safe here," she said gently. "Take your time. Eat something.” Ben’s eyes fixed on her. He unwrapped the granola bar and took a small bite, chewing slowly. The simple act of eating seemed to ground him, to bring him back from the edge.  

"Why are you helping?" he said after a moment. "You don't even know me."  

"I know enough," Y/N replied. Ben leaned back in the chair, the weight of his ordeal starting to lift, if only slightly. He looked around the room, taking in the posters on the walls, the pamphlets about support groups and therapy sessions.  

His expression hardened, and he scoffed. "What kind of shit is this?" he muttered, pushing the granola bar away. "A place for vets who have difficulties getting back to the real world." Y/N answered ignoring the disgusting look on his face. "For who can’t handle their crap? PTSD, trauma... that's for fuck-ups who can't cut it. Real men don’t need this kind of help."  

Y/N sighed, her patience unyielding. She had encountered this attitude before. She knew it was a defence mechanism, a way to mask vulnerability. "What's your name?" He didn't answer, "I'm Y/N..." she said hoping he would be willing to answer if she took the first step. "Ok doll." was all he said, she didn't push further.  

"PTSD is real. It doesn’t make you weak or a 'fuck-up.' It means you've been through something traumatic, something no one should have to face alone." Ben’s eyes flashed with anger. "I've faced plenty alone and survived. Don't need a bunch of pity and hand-holding to get by." " 

I’m not offering pity," Y/N said firmly. "I’m offering support. There’s a difference. Some have been through hell, and it's okay to need help coming back from that." Ben clenched his fists, the tension in his body palpable.  

"You don't get it," he snapped. "I was a soldier. I fought, bled, and survived on my own. This..." he gestured around the room “... this is for people who can't handle the easy world." Y/N met his gaze steadily.  

"Maybe you did survive on your own, but that doesn’t mean you have to keep doing it alone. Needing help doesn’t make you less of a man. It makes you human." He looked away, the anger in his eyes giving way to something more vulnerable.  

"You don't know what it's like. What they did to me..." "No, I don't," Y/N admitted. "But I do know that what you're feeling is valid. And that this place exists because too many people try to do it alone and end up hurting themselves or others."  

Ben shook his head, "Bullshit" Y/N looked him in the eye. "Is it? Didn't you just blow up in the middle of the street? Literally?" He looked at her, his eyes searching hers for some kind of hate or reluctance, maybe even fear but all he saw was reassurance, patience. 

Ben stood up abruptly, the chair scraping loudly against the floor. His movements were restless, his mind clearly in turmoil. He began to walk toward the door, but Y/N called after him, her voice gentle but firm.  

"Wait. If you ever feel like talking, or just need a place to be... I'll be here on Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays. Other days, there are other people who can help if you don't want to talk to me. You don’t have to go through this alone."  

He paused at the door, glancing back at her. For a moment, it seemed like he might say something, but instead, he just nodded curtly and walked out into the night. The next day, Y/N was cleaning up after a session, stacking chairs and tidying the break room. That day had been busy, and she was exhausted, but it was a good kind of tired, the kind that came from helping others.  

She was lost in thought, reflecting on the day’s work, when she heard the soft chime of the bell above the door. "We're closing," she called out over her shoulder. "The next session is tomorrow." There was a pause, and then a familiar voice responded. "It's me... Ben."  

Y/N turned around, surprised but not displeased. Ben stood in the doorway, looking uncertain but determined. He seemed a little more composed than the day before, but the haunted look in his eyes was still there. "Ben..." she said, offering a warm smile. "I'm glad you came back. Come on in."  

He stepped inside, closing the door behind him. "I'm not sure what I'm doing here " he admitted. Y/N nodded, gesturing to one of the chairs. "Have a seat. I was just finishing up, but I’m here if you need to talk."  

Ben sat down, his movements still a bit stiff. "I don’t know where to start." Ben settled into the chair, looking around the room before finally meeting Y/N’s patient gaze. “Where you feel like.” He seemed to gather his thoughts, taking a deep breath.  

“Everything’s different now,” he began, his voice tinged with frustration. “The world... it’s nothing like what I remember. People, technology, everything’s changed. It's like I don’t recognize it anymore.”  

Y/N nodded, her expression encouraging him to continue. “I mean, look at the way people are glued to their weird portable phones,” Ben continued, gesturing vaguely. “No one talks to each other face-to-face. Back in my day, if you had something to say, you said it. Now, it’s all that small shitty thing. And the clothes people wear… men walking around in clothing, colours I wouldn’t have been caught dead in.” 

He paused, running a hand through his hair. “And don’t even get me started on the way people talk about feelings. PTSD? Trauma? In my time, you just sucked it up and got on with it.”  

Y/N listened attentively, her expression understanding. She knew better than to interrupt; sometimes, people just needed to voice their frustrations. “Even the food is different,” Ben continued, his tone a mix of incredulity and irritation.  

“Everything’s organic, gluten-free, plant-based crap. What happened to a good old-fashioned burger and fries? And the music… nothing like the rock ‘n roll I grew up with. It’s all electronic noise now.”  

He shook his head, his shoulders slumping slightly. “I feel like I don’t belong here. Like the world moved on and left me behind. I was a soldier once, a fucking hero. Now, I’m just...” Y/N waited a moment to make sure he was done before she spoke.  

"How long were you gone?" Ben's eyes locked on her, ignoring her question and stood up to leave. Y/N called after him. "Do you have a place to stay tonight?" He turned back to face her, his expression guarded.  

"No," he admitted. "I didn't need much sleep since I got back." Y/N frowned, concern etched across her features. "You need a place. There’s a motel nearby. I can arrange a room for you, but only if you agree to come to the sessions here every week."  

Ben laughed, a rough, humourless sound. "You’re really something, you know that? Since when are woman making deals like that. But alright, I need a place. I'll come to you for sessions. Only you, no one else."  

Y/N nodded without hesitation. "Of course. Deal. Every Friday?" Ben smiles looking her up and down while licking his lips. "Sure doll... I see you on Friday." "Tell the motel owner I send you." 

Next Friday 

Y/N waited anxiously at the centre for Ben to arrive. She checked the clock repeatedly, her concern growing as the minutes ticked by without any sign of him. Finally, she decided to head to the motel to check on him.  

When she reached his door, she knocked firmly. After a few moments, the door opened, and she was taken aback to see an elderly woman standing there, looking slightly embarrassed. "Excuse me," Y/N said, trying to keep her voice calm. "I’m looking for Ben. Is he here?"  

The woman glanced back over her naked shoulder, and Ben’s voice called out from inside. "Just in time doll, why don’t you join us." Y/N stepped into the doorway, seeing Ben sitting on the bed naked with a mirror filled with powder in his hand.  

“Oh my...” Y/N turned around covering her eyes seeing the woman quickly gathered her things, brushing past her as she left the room in a hurry. Y/N’s heart sank as she saw the mess inside and the unmistakable signs of a night spent with company.  

Ben sat on the edge of the bed, looking unrepentant. "To what do I own this suprise," he said with a smirk. “We had an appointment, remember?” She glanced over at him. “Can you please cover up?” He said looking up at the ceiling.  

"Yeah about that talk, I don’t need your help sweetheart. I just needed a good fuck and something to calm me down." Y/N felt a wave of disappointment and concern. "Ben, this isn’t the way to deal with what you’re going through. You said you’d come to the sessions."  

He scoffed, standing up and moving closer to her, putting on dirty sweatpants. "They’re for people who need a shoulder to cry on. I’m not one of them. But if you really want to make it up to me for scaring off my company, you could always... continue where she left off." He nodded to his crotch.  

"Stop right there," Y/N cut him off, her voice firm and filled with a mix of anger and sadness. "I’m here to help you, not to be manipulated or disrespected. You’re better than this, Ben. I know you are."  

He looked at her, a flicker of something, shame, maybe, crossing his face before it hardened again. "You don’t know anything about me."  

"I know you’re hurting," Y/N said, refusing to back down. "And I know you’re scared. But pushing people who want to help away isn’t going to help. You need to face what’s going on inside you. Literally!” 

Ben clenched his fists, his jaw tightening. "I don’t need your pity."  

"It’s not pity," Y/N said quietly. "It’s compassion. And it’s a lifeline, if you’re willing to take it. But you have to want to change, Ben. No one can force you." For a moment, the room was silent. Y/N took a deep breath, trying to stay calm.  

"Ben, if you're more comfortable, we can keep the sessions here in the motel room. But you have to promise I won't walk in on anything like this again." Ben's smirk widened as he walked closer to her, his eyes dark and intent.  

He reached out, his hands gripping her arms and pulling her closer to him. Y/N recoiled, anger and fear flashing in her eyes. "Ben, let go of me," she said firmly, her voice shaking slightly. He leaned in, his breath warm against her ear, feeling his beard softly scratching, as he whispered,  

"Don't take away my needs for women and drugs, or I'll take it out on you." Y/N's heart pounded in her chest, but she refused to let fear control her. She forced herself to stand her ground, her eyes meeting his with unwavering resolve.  

"This isn't a joke, Ben. You need help, and I'm here to offer it. But I won't be intimidated or manipulated by you." For a moment, Ben's grip tightened, his eyes searching hers for any sign of weakness. When he found none, his expression wavered, uncertainty flickering across his face.  

He released her abruptly, stepping back. "Fine," he muttered, his bravado faltering. "We'll have the sessions here. But you better not try to change me."  

"I’m not here to change you," Y/N said, rubbing her arms where his hands had held her. "I’m here to help you find a way to live with what you’ve been through. But you have to meet me halfway. See me as, i don’t know, a friend?" Ben looked away, his jaw clenching.  

"I don’t need a friend" he muttered, but his voice lacked its usual conviction. "Yes, you do," Y/N said softly.  

As Y/N turned to leave, her mind racing with concern and frustration. She reached the door, Ben called out, stopping her in her tracks. "Where are you going?" he asked, his tone a mix of annoyance and challenge.  

"I want the session now." She looked back at him, her eyes narrowing as he nodded toward the bed. Thinking this was process. "Sit," he said padding the bed next to him, but she hesitated, her gaze fixed on the rumpled sheets that were a stark reminder of what had just happened there. 

"No," Y/N replied firmly. "I'll sit over here." She moved to a chair by the small table, positioning herself as far from the bed as possible. "Let’s talk, go ahead." She said, Ben watched her for a moment, sitting on the bed, leaning back against the headboard.  

"Fine." He took a deep breath, his expression darkening as he began. "Back in the day, women knew their place. They knew how to treat a man. They'd do anything to please me, anything I wanted. They'd cook, clean, and make sure I was taken care of in bed. They’d do whatever it took to make me happy. They understood what real men need."  

Y/N's stomach turned at his words, but she kept her expression neutral, listening intently. "Nowadays, it’s different," Ben continued, a sneer in his voice. "Women think they can do whatever they want. They don’t respect men like they used to. They want to be equal, to have careers and opinions. It’s all bullshit. They don’t know how to take care of a real man. They think they're entitled to everything, without giving anything in return."  

He leaned forward, his eyes locking onto hers, trying to see her reaction. "The women I’ve been with since I got back... they don’t measure up. They’re too independent, too... modern. They don’t understand what a man like me needs. They just complain and whine, instead of doing their job."  

Y/N forced herself to stay calm, her mind racing as she processed his toxic words. "Ben, do you really think that’s what relationships are supposed to be like? One person serving the other without any mutual respect or partnership?" He scoffed. "Partnership? Respect? Those are just modern buzzwords. Real relationships are about roles. Men lead, women follow. It’s how it’s always been."  

"Does that make you happy?" Y/N asked quietly. "Do those kinds of relationships fulfil you? Or do they leave you feeling empty and alone after they leave?" Ben’s expression faltered for a moment, a flicker of uncertainty crossing his face before he masked it with anger.  

Y/N pushed his buttons just a little more, “Is that why you didn’t want me to leave? Because then you’ll be alone?” Ben’s lip twitched "You don’t know what you're talking about. You’re just another modern woman who thinks she can lecture me about life."  

"I’m not trying to lecture you, Ben," Y/N said softly. "I’m trying to understand you. But more importantly, I want you to understand yourself. These beliefs, this anger... it’s not just about the world changing. It’s about you feeling lost and trying to find control in a world that’s different from what you knew."  

He glared at her, but didn’t interrupt. "Let’s dig deeper," Y/N continued. "Why do you feel the need of control over women? What are you really afraid of?" Y/N’s question seemed to strike a nerve. Ben’s expression darkened, and he abruptly stood up, in two paces he stood tall, towering over her.  

His voice rose as he leaned in close, anger radiating from him. "Why do I feel the need to exert control? What am I afraid of? You don’t know anything about me!" Y/N didn't flinch. She met his gaze steadily, her calmness a contrast to his rage. This seemed to catch him off guard, and he paused, staring at her with a mix of curiosity and frustration.  

"Here she is, lecturing men but this little princess is just as big of a fuck up like the men she helps, isn’t she?" he demanded, his voice dropping to a harsh whisper. "Most people would be scared, what did you see that made you a stone-cold bitch?" 

Y/N took a deep breath, maintaining her composure, not willing to share her story with him just yet, but he needed something from her to build trust.  "I’ve faced fear before, Ben. I grew up as the daughter of a veteran. My father came back from war a different man. He was aggressive, a drunk. He’d beat me whenever he felt like it, accidently killed my mother in front of me while he was high and saw things there weren’t. So no, Ben, you don’t scare me."  

Ben’s eyes widened slightly, surprise flickering across his face, maybe even a little regret. He stepped back, his anger momentarily replaced by something else, perhaps respect, perhaps understanding, perhaps pity. "So, you have daddy issues, poor baby.”  

"I’ve had help" Y/N said softly. "But understand this, Ben: I've seen what anger and no control can do to a person. It doesn’t lead to happiness or peace. It leads to more pain.” Y/N stood up, stepping closed to him, toe to toe.  

Her eyes were unwavering, her voice firm. "I have patience, Ben. But lose your temper like this one more time, and you'll be alone. Understand?" Ben’s lip twitched in anger. He moved the chair aside, placed his hands against the wall behind her, leaning in close.  

"Maybe I should teach you some manners," he growled, his breath hot against her face. Y/N didn’t flinch. She looked him straight in the eyes, her voice steady and cold.  

"Go ahead, try it. But understand this: I’ve dealt with men like you my whole life. You think you can intimidate me? You’re wrong. And if you do this, you’ll lose the only person who’s trying to help you. Do you really want to go down that road?"  

For a moment, they stood there, locked in a silent standoff. Ben’s eyes were filled with rage, but beneath it, Y/N could see a flicker of doubt and confusion. Slowly, his hands dropped to his sides, and he stepped back, a mix of anger and frustration playing across his features. 

“Good," Y/N said. "Now, let’s get back to talking. We’re not done yet." - “Oh no, we’re done for today doll.” he said opening the door. She followed him. 

Y/N walked through the door Ben held open for her, her eyes briefly and unconsciously sweeping over his toned chest, noticing the small freckles scattered across his skin, similar to the ones on his face.  

She took a deep breath, focusing back on the conversation. "Ben," she said, her voice firm but kind, "see my advice as tough love. I'm a friend who wants to help you, not someone you can... fuck around with"  

Ben's smirk returned, a hint of genuine amusement in his eyes. "Tough love, huh? Never thought I'd hear that from you." Y/N raised an eyebrow, her expression unwavering. "Well, get used to it. I'm not here to cuddle you. I'm here to help you find a way to live in this new world, to help you become the person you want to be."  

He studied her for a moment, then nodded. "Alright, I get it. Tough love it is." She nodded back, feeling a small sense of victory. "Good. I'll see you next week. Same time." As she walked away, she felt his eyes on her, a mix of curiosity and respect in his gaze.  

It was a start, and for now, that was enough. She had made it clear that she wouldn't be pushed around, and Ben seemed to understand that. One step at a time, she reminded herself.  

In the following sessions, Ben was more composed. He wore clothing and there were no unexpected visitors, though Y/N could still smell the lingering scent of sex in the air and noticed the traces of cocaine on the mirror beside his bed. Despite these signs, he began to talk more openly, allowing her to glimpse the deeper layers of his pain.  

One evening, as they sat across from each other, Ben finally broached a subject he had been avoiding. "My team... they betrayed me," he said, his voice tight with suppressed emotion. Y/N leaned in slightly, encouraging him to continue.  

"Tell me more about that," she said gently. He took a deep breath, his eyes distant as he recounted the memories. "We were supposed to be a unit, a family. But they sold me out. They handed me over to the Russians.”  

He took his time to think about his next words. “Forty years, doll. Forty years in that hellhole because of them." Y/N nodded, her expression empathetic. "That must have been incredibly painful, feeling that betrayal from people you trusted."  

Ben's hands clenched into fists, his knuckles white. "It was more than painful. It broke me. I thought I could trust them, but they were just using me. And when I was no longer useful, they discarded me. Even my own girl."  

"It's understandable to feel angry and hurt," Y/N said softly. "But holding onto that anger will only continue to harm you. You need to find a way to process those feelings, to let go of the pain, if you want to move forward."  

He looked at her, his eyes filled with a mixture of anger and vulnerability. After weeks of sessions, Y/N felt they had made enough progress to broach a crucial topic. As they sat in the motel room, Ben seemed more relaxed, though the ever-present tension lingered beneath the surface.  

"Ben," Y/N began, her voice steady, "do you want to be Soldier Boy again?" He looked up, startled. "How do you...?" Y/N smiled, a hint of amusement in her eyes. "I've been listening, the pieces of your story. The details, the hints. I put them together."  

Ben's surprise turned into a wry smile. "You're smarter than you look." His eyes roamed her body like they did so often, at first, she felt uncomfortable by it, now she had learned the difference is his looks.  

This one wasn’t filled with heat, or not as much, no it was more an appreciation look. 

"Thanks, I think," Y/N replied, chuckling. "But seriously, do you want to go back to that life? To being Soldier Boy?"  

He leaned back, scratching his beard. "I don’t know. Part of me does. It’s all I’ve ever known. But another part of me wants to kill my old team and move on." Y/N ignored his lasts sentence.  

As they continued their conversation, Y/N felt a growing sense of optimism. Seeing Ben was starting to see beyond his past, to consider a future that wasn’t defined by his old identity. 

As Y/N ended their session she stood up and placed a hand on his arm. “You did good today Ben, I'm proud of you.” She could see the shock in his eyes, realising no one had ever told him they were proud of him. Not as sincerely like she just did. 

Ben’s eyes flickered to her lips and back a few times, so, before he could so something to ruin their bond she turned away. “See you next week.”  

Next week  

Ben paced the motel room, glancing at the clock every few minutes. Y/N was late. He tried to convince himself that maybe she was just held up, but as the minutes ticked by, anger began to simmer.  

Just when he had started to open up, to trust her, she didn't show up. The feeling of abandonment gnawed at him, intensifying his frustration. He threw the table a crossed the room, trying to let go of his anger.  

Deep down he knew she was like everyone else, thinking: “Maybe the fact that he was Soldier Boy pushed her away? Fucking pussy, you shouldn’t have told her about your fucking feelings. Man the fuck up!” 

By Saturday, his anger had turned into a determined need for answers. He decided to walk by the centre where Y/N volunteered, hoping to find her there, she told him the last weeks she had fulltime hours.  

He needed some explanation. As he approached, he saw her at the doors, but she wasn't alone. A man in a suit stood with her, and they were arguing heatedly. Ben's eyes narrowed as he watched the exchange.  

The man gestured aggressively, his face twisted in anger. Y/N flinched at his movement, just so slight that most people wouldn't notice, but Ben did. Knowing she doesn’t flinch just like that unless...  

His anger flared, a protective instinct kicking in. He strode up to them, his presence immediately drawing their attention. "Hey!" Ben barked, stepping between Y/N and the man.  

 

"What's going on here?" The man in the suit turned to face him, irritation clear in his eyes. "This is none of your business caveman, leave." Ben's gaze hardened. "It is my business if you're bothering her."  

 

“Oh...” the man looked at Y/N “This is one of your little projects!” Turning back to Ben. “I’m sorry buddy, but I need to talk to my girl.” Ben looked at Y/B seeing her face twitch at the words ‘my girl’.  

 

“Just go away Peter. We’re done I told you last night.” But then Ben noticed something he hadn't seen before: a faint bruise on Y/N's cheek, barely hidden by makeup. His eyes narrowed, and his chest tightened with anger.  

 

Ben glanced at Y/N, who noticed his eyes on her and looked away, clearly distressed. "Who is this guy, Y/N?" She hesitated before speaking, her voice barely above a whisper. "He's my ex-boss and... ex-boyfriend."  

 

The man's sneer grew. "We were just having a conversation. Nothing for you to worry about." Ben's eyes flicked back to the man, his anger simmering just below the surface. "A conversation that left a bruise on her face?"  

 

The man's expression turned smug. "She left me because of one little mistake. She needs to learn her place. I’m sure you understand." Ben's chest began to glow faintly, his rage manifesting physically. "You piece of shit."  

 

The ex-boyfriend didn't seem to notice the glow at first, but when Y/N placed her hand on Ben's chest, trying to calm him, she gasped in pain, pulling her hand back with a burn. "Ben, stop!" she cried, her eyes wide with fear and concern.  

 

The man took a step back, finally realizing he was pissing of a supe. "What the hell...." Before Ben could react further, Y/N stepped in front of him, her unburned hand on his arm, pleading.  

 

"Ben, please. Calm down. Don’t let him get to you. This isn’t the way." Ben's eyes met hers, and the glow began to fade as he struggled to control his anger. His fists unclenched, but his eyes remained fixed on the man.  

 

"You’re lucky she’s here. But if I ever see you near her again, I won’t hold back." The ex-boyfriend, now visibly shaken, took another step back. "So now you take care of freaks too?" he muttered. “I hope they can fix your issues.” he added before walking away. 

Ben looked at her, opening the door for her so she could get inside. ”Let me see your hand.” Y/N shook her head, “I can take care of myself.” But Ben thought differently, pushing her toward the table, his eyes demanding her to sit down.  

Ben searched around the kitchen for the first aid kit, his movements still tense from the encounter. When he found it, he brought it over to Y/N and carefully began treating her burned hand.  

"So, you slept with your boss," he remarked, his tone carrying a hint of teasing scepticism. Y/N smirked, wincing slightly as the cool ointment touched her skin. "Never thought that was your kink," Ben chuckled, the tension easing slightly.  

"I though more in the line of, older man, calling them daddy, spanking your perfect little ass... Guess I’ve still got a lot to learn about you." He looked up at her, seeing her reaction, she tried to hide a smile, the humour lightening the mood.  

"It was a mistake," she admitted, her expression growing more serious. "We were together before he was my boss. Things were good at first, but then he had stress, started drinking more, and everything went downhill."  

Ben nodded, listening when she finally opened up to him. “I saw my father in him, determine to heal him before he could hurt anyone.” she said looking at his hands gentle as he wrapped her hand in a bandage.  

"And then he hit you?" Ben asked without joking about her ‘daddy issues’ - "Yeah," she said softly. "That was the last straw. I couldn’t stay with him after that." Ben finished wrapping her hand, his eyes meeting hers with a mix of concern and respect.  

"You did the right thing by leaving. No one deserves to be treated like that." She looked confused at him, he noticed "Just because I think a woman should be at home, cooking for her man, please him doesn't mean I would hit her... unless she likes a little spanking in the bedroom." He winks at her.  

She could feel the soft pink on her cheeks burning, "Thanks, Ben," she said, her smile returning. Ben looked at Y/N after taking care of her hand, a sense of resolve in his eyes. "I need to take care of a few things," he said, his voice gentle but determined.  

"You won't be seeing me for a while." Y/N nodded, understanding the weight of his words. Ben looked at Y/N, concern etched in his features. "Are you going to be okay being alone?"  

Y/N met his gaze, her expression softening. "Are you?" He chuckled, a hint of self-awareness in his laughter. "No, not really." She nodded, a small smile playing on her lips. "Me neither." 

Y/N looked at Ben, her expression turning serious. "What are your plans?" Ben hesitated, his gaze flickering away for a moment before returning to hers. "I... I'm going to visit an old friend," he admitted reluctantly.  

 

"Someone who can help me get my suit back." Y/N's brows furrowed in concern. "Your suit? Why do you need that?" He looked away again, the weight of his words heavy on his shoulders. "To... settle some unfinished business.” Her eyes widened in alarm. "Ben, you can't be serious.”  

 

"I have to," he insisted, his voice tight with determination. "They betrayed me, Y/N. They left me to rot in that hellhole for forty years. I can't just let that go." Y/N reached out, taking his hand in hers, her touch gentle but firm. "Please, Ben. Think about what you're doing. Revenge won't heal anything." 

As Ben and Y/N looked at each other, there was a palpable tension in the air. For the first time, they felt a stirring of attraction, a spark igniting between them. Y/N's gaze lingered on Ben in a way she hadn't before, truly seeing him for the first time.  

She noticed the depth of his green eyes, the curve of his full lips, the scattering of freckles across his skin. There was a ruggedness to him, a rawness that drew her in. Ben found himself captivated by Y/N in a way he hadn't expected.  

He couldn't tear his eyes away from her lips, imagining the softness of them against his own. He felt a pull towards her, a magnetic force that seemed to draw them closer with each passing moment.  

Slowly, almost instinctively, they began to close the space between them. The air crackled with anticipation as their breaths mingled, their hearts beating in sync. In that moment her hands moved to his cheek, a tender gesture as she pulled him closer and kissed him softly.  

He leaned into the kiss, savouring the moment, feeling the soft scratch of his beard against her skin. When he pulled back she kept her eyes closed, she could hear him moving. Knowing what he is going to do. 

She heard the door closing, reality crashed back in, and a single tear escaped, trailing down her cheek. In the quiet of the room, she couldn't help but wonder why it hurt so much. The sudden ache in her heart caught her off guard, leaving her feeling raw and vulnerable. 

Her eyes where still closed, her fingers moved over her lips, trying to hold on to the lingering sensation of Ben's kiss. 

--

Please like, share or comment when you liked the story. If you liked this, please check out my masterlist for other stories.

Tag list:-> If you want to be added let me know what you like to read!

@yvonneeeee

@suckitands33

@mostlymarvelgirl

@globetrotter28

@jackles010378

@hobby27

@call-me-mrs-winchester

[punksocks]

Aspects that indicate MUTUAL attraction??

That’s there’s no chance for one sided love ..

This is an interesting question because the chemistry can be off the charts (pun not intended) but due to timing (divine timing even) the attraction can remain/become one sided. Sometimes you can even have a case of mutual attraction that stays unrequited because of whatever extenuating circumstances. Sometimes it’s just destined not to be and that’s alright too. with free will and all that it’s anyone’s guess where attraction will go if it goes anywhere at all.

But I can give you some synastry for strong romantic attraction !

-Venus conjunct Asc: this is like the “bam that’s my type” overlay. The Ascendant person is the aesthetic ideal for the Venus person. Everything about the Ascendant person will charm and infatuate the Venus person. The Venus person can also charm the ascendant person pretty easily in most cases. Easy placement to learn someone’s love language if the connection isn’t based on looks alone.

-Mars conjunct Asc: The Mars person will see the Ascendant person as an embodiment of their ideal s*x appeal. It’s another synastry aspect that can be kind of shallow (do they like each other just because of the intimate connection?) but can be a starter for significant attraction. Like sparks at first sight, especially for the planet person.

-Pluto conjunct Asc: Intimidating but oh so revealing. The kind of synastry that isn’t for the faint of heart and may scare certain types away (people that aren’t very plutonic may be curious but may run away from this sort of connection). This is the type of relationship that is going to make the Pluto person go through some sort of change as their shadow side and depth are illuminated with their time with the Ascendant person. The bond can be as dark and dependent as it is hypnotic. The Pluto person can sometimes lash out at the ascendant person because they feel so exposed. This synastry tends to play out best when both people are mature and sincerely care about each other (and the Plutonian connection will expose the truth about their feelings about each other). The connection feels fated.

-Venus Square Mars: The tension pulls the two parties together. Usually the strongest tension comes when the feminine energy is the Venus and the masculine energy is the mars. Can be tricky because ultimately the tension comes from different expressions of love and passion, so if either party is too insecure it can cause the connection to feel more fragile and need more work. The positive side of this is that the two parties really expand each other’s experiences and when they put effort in they can be each other’s most intimate and impressive partners. And the chemistry from the tension is explosive on every level. Never a boring day together for better and for worse.

-Moon conjunct Venus: the emotions and the romantic expression of the two are on the same level. The moon person feels enamored and at home with the Venus person, and the Venus person feels cared for and safe with the moon person. Just really sweet and lovey dovey energy all around that can help the connection last. In the short term it’s warm and renewing and in the long term it can bring a lot of peace to both parties.

-Venus/Mars square Pluto: More intense chemistry. Again not for the faint of heart. The Pluto person will bring about transformation and change in the Venus/Mars person. The two can explore uncharted territory together in terms of romantic/intimate expression. This synastry will often have the Venus/Mars person expressing their deep desires for love and intimacy for the Pluto person. The two will never be the same after this connection.

-Most Scorpio Synastry (but especially moon, venus, & mars overlays): this is so intense, it’s relatively easy to underestimate how deep the passion for this connection can run, especially for the person with the planets in Scorpio. There’s this layer of depth there that’s inherent to Scorpionic relationships, but it’s interesting how this tends to play out. I think it depends on how developed both parties are. The Scorpio person can become obsessive and enamored and the other person can become indulgent on being obsessed over (especially if the overlays are in 1st/8th/10th and to a lesser degree 5th). This can cause a lot of passion and intensity and the intimacy can be unparalleled. But also there’s always a volatile nature to this sort of chemistry. Obsession is a classical double edged sword. There’s passion but there’s also power and control and possession. The connection can be unstable or unbalanced with this sort of energy. If the Scorpio person is underdeveloped they can quickly get controlling and expect the world from the other person. But still a very intense connection nonetheless.

[glacierclear]

Having some mad fuckboy!Leon thoughts rn

After he's unlearned all the stuff he taught himself and is basically done with the whole fuckboy thing oh man he would be SO soft. Holding your hand? Check. Cuddling at his dorm? Check. Being more gentle and loving during sex? Also check.

Also, stealing his hoodies. He'd melt for sure

oh, for sure. healed fuckboy!leon would be a SIGHT TO BEHOLD.

he wouldn't be perfect...

progress isn't linear. he'd stumble a lot. make a lot of mistakes and backward steps. you would need to be patient. you would need to be careful. especially in the early stages. because damn, he's trying. he's trying so hard. and you need to acknowledge the effort, even if it's hard to see, because any praise towards this will mean so much to him.

it'd come out especially on his bad days. he's more impatient. short-tempered. lashes out over seemingly mundane things. you'll need to be firm but not demeaning. catch his tells, his habits, and figure out the real reason he's behaving the way he is.

you'll need to slowly teach him the true depth of his words. that they hurt you just as much as they hurt him. he's unfamiliar with the idea of accountability, so you need to teach him about consequences. let him know you're upset and angry at him. but just because you're upset doesn't mean he's irredeemable. he'll assume any pushback is you ending things permanently. he needs the space to fuck up and forgive himself.

and damn it all, he's the jealous type. possessive. protective as all hell. it's toxic, and you need to teach him boundaries. it'll be tough. he worked so fucking hard to get you, doesn't he deserve to have you the way he needs? but no. you need freedom. he'll learn eventually, but be prepared to send a lot of "im safe and i miss u" texts to him when you're out with friends.

speaking of toxic. the toxic masculinity will be hell to unpack. sometimes it's nice! he insists on you being passenger princess. he insists on picking up the bill (well, once you're actually dating). he doesn't mind taking care of spiders (and fine, just because you asked nicely, he won't kill them). but...the bads get real bad.

displaying any kind of vulnerable emotion is like pulling teeth. when he's nervous, scared, anxious...he'll take it out on others. or himself. early progress will be made when he's blackout drunk and spilling everything to you. he reveals the deepest, most fragile parts of himself on these nights. it's like he's an entirely different person. and the next morning he'll do his best to sweep it all under the rug, but you have to fight for it. accept him and love him despite how "totally fucking lame" he acted (his words, not yours).

that being said. the good parts? oh yeah. Boyfriend Material 100%.

he'd do anything for you. anything. don't even say shit as a joke because he'll do it. at a certain point he doesn't even care if his friends think he's being stupid. you're his whole world. he'd wear stupid t-shirts for you. go to that concert you're dying to see even if he thinks the music sucks. he'll bash his head into a wall and learn to bake french pastries if it'll get you to smile. through hell and high water, he'll follow.

and yeah, he weans himself off social media. stops posting thirst trap photos and cuts ties with his sneaky links. but the lack of external validation is felt, and it kind of falls on you to fill the void. clingy won't even begin to describe what he is. he'll resort to begging. he will. late to work in the morning? that's not his problem. you're staying in that damn bed and you are cuddling him. you think him wearing tank tops in the middle of December is just a dumb mistake, but you catch on quick when he starts to shiver and needs to huddle you for warmth. "you want me to die of hypothermia? c'mon, babe. get closer." and yeah. those ice cold hands are going straight on your stomach. have fun.

part of the excitement will come from truly learning who he is as a person. most of his herculean facade is a persona. he doesn't actually like beer. he likes dry whiskey and refined clear liquors. he doesn't actually enjoy parties. the crowds make him nauseous, and he can always blame it on the alcohol. he's not actually all that into sports. you figure out he has a well-loved public library card and he knows the mystery section like the back of his hand. he's vibrant. shockingly intelligent. gets that light in his eyes when you nudge him about his interests. it'll be hard to get him to admit it, but his favorite part of the week is huddling on the couch watching nature documentaries with you.

and it's a two-way street. he remembers everything about you. early on in your relationship you casually assume he'll never keep track of the important dates. that's the stereotype, right? you couldn't be more wrong. birthdays. anniversaries. doctor's appointments. your fucking dog's yearly vaccine. he won't necessarily go all-out, not until you're more of a long-term thing, but what he does is meaningful. sincere. you won't get $500 of flowers and chocolate for valentine's day, but he'll abduct you from work, drive you out far, far into the countryside. lay out a patchwork blanket and stare at the night sky. he brought your favorite brand of pita chips and sneakily worms a gift box in your hand. it's that stupid $15 thing that's been sitting in your online shopping cart for weeks that you could never justify buying. and yeah, he'd appreciate a blowjob under the stars, but seeing you happy is enough.

and you could never begin to imagine how loving and passionate he can get during sex. it's totally different than his usual flavor. casual hook-ups and one-night stands are merely a fraction of his power. he tends to avoid intimate gestures on those nights. no eye-contact. hardly any kissing. he likes it rough and he likes it fast. but with you? he takes his time. commits your body to muscle memory. his gaze is intense, and he watches every reaction, trying to map out your flesh like a cartographer. he'll happily make out with you for upwards of a couple hours before you even begin the real foreplay. and you always cum first. always.

oh, but if you're not a fan of PDA...he might be a problem. he's proud of you. you're the hottest thing on two legs as far as he's concerned. he'll have no issue grabbing your ass, wrapping a hand around your waist, kissing along your neck, whispering the most obscene things in your ear. it's not even to make a point. there's no rhyme or reason. he just wants to. and you're right there. and what right does the world have to tell him to stop? does it make people uncomfortable? who cares. he'll lay off if it really bugs you that much...but if he catches anyone staring at you too long he'll ramp it up. it's almost aggressive. you turn to scold him, noticing how his eyes aren't even on you. he's staring at someone else. someone who's looking at what's his.

he's a yes man, too. if you need restraint and careful guidance in your life...he's not the one. he'll support any weird, out of the blue hobby you want to pursue. if you even joke about quitting your job he'll egg you on. "i'll drive right up there and tell your boss i'll fuck his wife!" and you have to talk him down. he'll punch the sun for you. he'll be behind every impulsive purchase. every 4am trip to walmart. every instinct to feed your id. any "little treat" you want to have he'll get it. because you deserve the best. if you ever want to have a stable bank account you need the be the voice of reason. because it's not gonna be him.

yeah. he'll have a lot of problems. don't worry about that. but, at least with fuckboy!leon, you'll almost never have any doubts that he loves you. once you manage to pin his heart on his sleeve, it's there for life and it'll always be yours.

[sansaorgana]

I’m not quite sure if your requests are open or not so if they aren’t just ignore this!♥️ but if they are, hi!!! I was wondering if you could do an Austin Butler/Buck Cleven x Reader who plays hard to get with him. She is like head nurse or something, a badass who was trained by her daddy in the arts of war, like I’m talking knowing how to throw hand grenades, shooting rifles or knowing how to work a plane despite her role in modern day 1940s society. I don’t like reading abt Y/N being naive yk?

hello! 💕 this story takes place when the boys are still in the USA and training. I believe I've read somewhere they actually spent two years in Texas so... the Reader is a girl from Texas and a daughter of one of the badass Colonels at the base who is training Buck and others. she is also a head nurse at that base (I assume they also had sickbays even though those were training bases...? I literally know nothing about the military lmao). I hope she will be strong enough for you 😌 I personally don't find every sweet and more period-accurate female character to be weak or naive but it was still nice to write a different type of character for once 😅

I might post less frequently in the upcoming days because I am catching up with my uni work finally after a few weeks of abandoning it to write fics lol

my inbox is open for blurb/short fic requests for major cleven 🤗

Bucky laughed at the sight of his friend going inside the sickbay after a training flight. He was going there for the fifth time this week and it was all because his friend had a crush on the head nurse, young (Y/N) (Y/L/N).

Miss (Y/L/N) was a daughter of Colonel (Y/L/N) – the Colonel (Y/L/N) – the scariest and the roughest man around. He had a scar right across his face and he was known for being so strong he could rip the tree out of the ground with his bare hands… or so the legend said.

His daughter was just like her father. She was feminine of course in her nurse’s apron and her hair done up neatly so it wouldn’t interrupt her work. Her hands were soft and her lips covered with red lipstick. But she was a tough girl who didn’t mind swearing a little and scolding all the boys at the base for their irresponsible behaviour. She probably didn’t know that they all acted this way just so they could get to the sickbay and be treated by her.

At least that was the case for Buck.

She sighed at the sight of him and rolled her eyes as she approached him when he entered the room.

“Major Cleven… Again?” She raised her eyebrows at him and he blushed. “What is it this time?”

“I am… I am dizzy,” he made up a pathetic lie and she huffed at that as she pointed at the chair for him to sit down on.

“I will give you something for that but if you keep having troubles of this sort, I’m gonna tell my daddy to not send you to Europe, you know?” She teased and he swallowed thickly at that comment.

“Please, don’t, Miss (Y/L/N),” he pleaded, his eyes carefully following her every movement as she looked at him with a smirk.

“Well, we don’t want weak pilots like you to defend our country, do we?” She teased.

“It’s not because of flying… It’s… I don’t know, it’s something else,” Buck hated himself for the way he acted around her. She was so intimidating but so tempting at the same time. The fragile part of his masculinity was simply scared of her but his other, brave side wanted to be around her all the time. And he was very well aware how many other men wanted her, too. But his feelings were real. It had very little to do with desire. He was serious about her.

She approached him and handed him a pill and a glass of water. He swallowed it and she squinted her eyes at him.

“I swear to God, you boys are the worst bunch I’ve ever dealt with,” she shook her head. “I hope in Europe I will handle real men,” she rolled her eyes.

“You’re going to Europe, too?” Buck asked as he widened his eyes.

“Of course, Major. It brings me no pleasure to be here and help buffoons like you,” she chuckled. “I signed up already and my daddy wants me to be assigned to the 100th.”

“That’s where I will go, too,” Buck’s eyes sparkled as he realised that she wouldn’t get rid of him so easily.

“Oh God…” (Y/N) sighed. “I hope you’ll be long gone by the time I get there.”

“I hope not,” he blurted out and she froze for a second before laughing.

“Oh, you’re cute, Major,” she admitted before walking away to deal with the next man entering the sickbay, coming up with some fake injury just to feel her hands examining him and hear her mocking tone scolding him for his irresponsibility.

You liked Bucky Egan because he was funny and he didn’t care about you. He could have any woman he wanted so he wasn’t showing off when you were around – or playing a victim like so many “injured” Majors, Captains and Lieutenants. You were growing sick of all of them, coming to you with every single papercut and making puppy eyes at you.

You were having a beer with Bucky behind one of the buildings in the evening. Consuming alcohol was forbidden but who would fire you? You were a daughter of the roughest Colonel in that base. And Bucky was under your protection – and one of the best pilots around.

“Alright, but if you had to go out with any of them, who would that be?” Bucky asked, teasingly.

“For fuck’s sake, John,” you rolled your eyes and leaned your head back to rest it on the wall. “It would be you.”

“But I don’t want you,” he laughed.

“You…,” you hissed at him and you both giggled. “That’s why I would go out with you.”

“Oh, you like the ones who don’t want you?”

“No, I like real men,” you told him. “Like my daddy is.”

“You know that my best friend is madly in love with you, right?” Bucky pushed your arm playfully.

“Curt Biddick?” You asked. God, that one was insufferable.

“Yeah, him too. But I mean the other one.”

“Buck Cleven?” You asked as you felt your cheeks heating up for some mysterious reason.

“Yeah, that one,” Bucky nodded. “He’s a good guy and a hell of a pilot. He’s tough, too, just in a different way.”

“Yeah, he’s cute, bless his heart,” you admitted.

“So, you’d go out with him?” Bucky raised his eyebrow at you.

“Stop playing matchmaker, it’s not gonna happen. I ain’t dating any man from this base,” you took a sip of your beer as you shook your head.

“Why not, though? You don’t want to marry a man like your daddy? I thought you wanted to,” Bucky asked.

“Y’all would be scared of a gal like me, let me tell you,” you giggled. “I can shoot a rifle and throw a grenade. My daddy wanted a son, you see. But my momma gave him only girls so he raised us like boys,” you told him. “All that discipline, I ain’t joking, Bucky,” you pushed him because he was laughing. “We had to get up at 5am, make our bed, do morning gymnastics,” you teased.

“Really?” His face became more serious.

“Nah,” you shook your head. “Only sometimes. But he took the whole business of teaching us self-defence very seriously. I remember asking him, where the hell would I even get a grenade from in case some boy was following me home, daddy? And he said: easy, sugar, they’re in my drawer next to the gun,” you laughed and so did Bucky.

“You know what I think?” Bucky put his bottle of beer down and shot you an odd glance you did not like at all.

“What, Egan?”

“You’re gonna get angry when I tell you.”

“Just tell me,” you rolled your eyes.

“I think you need a man who’s gonna see a woman in you. Like yeah, we all know you’re tough and shit. And all these boys want to be around you because you’re like a mother that they have left back home in the way you scold them and take care of them. But I think you just need someone to see a woman in you. Has anyone ever…?”

“You asshole,” you indeed got angry. You didn’t want him to be right and react in such a predictable way but you did.

You stood up and went back to the building to go to sleep, leaving Bucky Egan without a word.

You didn’t know what Bucky had said to Buck but Major Cleven hadn’t visited the sickbay in a week now and you hated to admit but you missed it. In fact, you were the most excited when it was him coming inside with some adorable injury or illness. There was something about him that was making you swoon even though you would never ever admit that. 

On that weekend most boys had a night out and you stayed inside the sickbay to deal with the paperwork. One of the head nurse’s duties sadly required filling some papers, too.

After a while, you heard a light knocking upon the front door and you sighed before standing up and opening them, shocked to see Major Cleven.

“Major?” You asked. “What is it again? The mysterious dizziness has had its comeback?”

“N-no,” he shook his head.

“Why aren’t you out with all the boys?”

“I didn’t want to go,” he admitted and you squinted your eyes at him.

“So you decided to catch me in an empty room instead? I have a gun here and I know how to use it,” you threatened although it was hard to believe that a man like Major Cleven would ever hurt any woman.

“I wanted to ask you if you’d go out on a walk with me, Miss (Y/L/N),” he widened his eyes at your threats. “It’s a warm and nice night.”

“Ugh, fine,” you shrugged your arms and grabbed a cardigan to put over your nurse’s outfit. He waited for you outside nervously with his hands in his pockets.

“I don’t want to be a bother, we don’t have to…” Buck told you as you were locking the door behind you.

“You’re lucky, Major, I needed a distraction from the papers,” you told him and joined him.

“Yeah, the paperwork. I don’t like it either,” he looked down and you two began to walk slowly towards the gates leading out of the base.

“And who does?” You chuckled and looked at him as you bit on your lip. He was adorable; something about him was making you feel protective. But on the other hand you knew from your father he was one of the best pilots and he was a man of honour. Your father was usually rolling his eyes at the mention of most men at the base. But never about Major Cleven. Your father rarely respected the young and new ones but something about that Major was making your daddy go easy on him.

“I wanted to apologise, actually,” Buck told you when you two finally left the base and began to walk alongside its fence.

“Hm? About what?” You asked.

“Bothering you five times a week with made up dizziness or papercuts,” he laughed nervously.

“And what made you apologise? You’re not the only one who’s been doing that, Major, but you’re surely the first actually saying he’s sorry,” you raised an eyebrow.

“Bucky told me it’s annoying you and that it’s not really a way to get to you,” he admitted as he looked up at your face.

“Why the hell would you want to get to me? You’re a sweet man,” you snorted at him. In the dim light of the moon and the base’s lights from afar you could see him blushing.

“What does it have to do with it, Miss (Y/L/N)?” Buck asked.

“I’m not sweet, Major Cleven. A guy like you… You should be out there in town with them boys and look for a sweet little naive doll for yourself,” you teased him. But deep down it hurt you that it was true – you were raised for a tough girl but sometimes… Sometimes you wished you were softer.

“You think so low of me, Miss?” He only shook his head with a nervous chuckle. “That type of woman you’ve mentioned… They’re nice and kind, I don’t mind them, they’re sweet, yeah. And they make good wives to lots of men but you… You’re the first one who actually impressed me,” he confessed.

You went silent for a moment. You liked that he wasn’t complimenting you while saying mean things about others.

“You’re a real gentleman, Cleven,” you pointed out. “And so smooth. You’d be a sensation if you stayed here in Texas.”

“Would I?” He stopped his walk and so did you as he turned around to face you better.

“Yeah. But if you stayed here, you’d soon realise there are more gals like me ‘round here. And I’d lose all the charm,” you teased.

“Then maybe I’d finally leave you alone, which I assume is your wish.”

“Oh, far from that,” you risked as you raised your eyebrows, waiting for his next move.

He hesitated for a while and then he smiled smugly and joined his lips with yours in a sweet but passionate kiss that took your breath away.

Bucky had been right – it was nice to be treated like a woman.

“Will your daddy shoot me for that?” Major Cleven asked with a chuckle after finally breaking the kiss.

“It’s not him you should be worried about. I can shoot, too, Major, and my daddy wouldn’t get rid of the best pilot,” you teased.

“But you would?” He grabbed your chin gently.

“The best pilot? Surely. But would I get rid of Major Cleven? Never,” you chuckled. “God, I’ve missed your made up migraines,” you confessed.

“I can fake more of them,” he smirked.

“Yes, please,” you chuckled and leaned in to kiss him again. “But let’s keep it a secret for now.”

“Why?”

“Because if my daddy finds out about us, he’ll make sure we won’t be sent to the same base in Europe and we don’t want that, do we…?” You looked up at him, your heart pounding so fast in your chest as it had never done before for any man.

“Oh, no, no, we don’t want that at all,” Major Cleven bopped you on the nose. “Who will deal with my headaches there otherwise?”

MASTERLIST || BUCK MASTERLIST

[dangerouslyknown]

Hi hello!!!

Could I request hcs for Admirals with fem!s/o who is very small compared to them? Like she is 5'0?

HCs: Admirals having a fem!S/O much smaller compared to them

Thanks for the request! I am slowly getting back into writing again, so my apologies if I am a bit rusty.

Warnings: None

Borsalino / Kizaru

I have a feeling that your height doesn’t matter to him…. You’re taller? He’s delighted (and a bit amazed). You’re shorter? He’s delighted. You’re around the same height? He’s delighted. But! He can’t deny that he finds your short height adorable.

He’s overall a gentle lover, but… Sometimes he tends to forget that you are much more fragile than him. He would never hurt you on purpose, but sometimes he gets a bit carried away.

He will apologize with lots of affection, like hugs and kisses though!

This man loooves to pick you up in his arms a lot as well. Your weight doesn’t matter either, he just loves to hold you close to him like you’re his bride...

..and he might not say this to you directly, but he absolutely loves to hear when you compliment his strength while he holds you. Then he'll just act all smug about it-

Borsalino being how he is, he would definitely tease you a bit about your height. He’d occasionally just comment on it out of nowhere or do something to get your attention. Like he’d take your hand and place it on his and point out the size difference.

Sakazuki / Akainu

He isn’t the biggest fan of the huge height difference. He does prefer someone more close to his height. He had some concerns, but all the pros and you as a person made him forget the height difference. With time, he learned to “accept” it as he claims, but honestly…

In all truth, he loves how your small size makes him feel. Next to you, he feels more masculine and better about himself. He feels large and muscular. It just makes him so damn proud and boosts his ego and this man is all for it. 

Actually, call him your knight or something. He’d claim it’s childish for you to call him that but he secretly likes it a lot.

 He likes having you sit on his lap. He enjoys the closeness and it’s great you fit onto his lap so easily due to your size so it can be done almost everywhere. There’s also something he especially loves  and it’s when you sit on his thigh. But that’s mostly on a more private setting.

It goes without saying that he’s there to help you reach places, but he likes to watch you get creative when trying to reach the high-up cabinets and such. He adores seeing your dedication to the task.

Kuzan / Aokiji

I think he has a preference for shorter women, so your height isn’t a problem at all. Like Borsalino, he isn’t too worried about anything, but he’s a bit more aware and actively worries more about accidentally hurting you. Eventually he relaxes though.

He adores you and thinks you’re sooo cute when you look up to his face from your height. Or do pretty much anything, he can’t help it. 

He is a very caring man, but sometimes it might get a little annoying when he finds almost everything you do cute. He’s too lazy to fight or argue, so he’ll just be there and silently think how you’re pretty cute when you’re angry.

And there’s something that he loves to no limits. When he sees you wearing his shirts or other clothes. The way you look in his clothes, how oversized they are, there’s just… something in that sight, that gets to him. And he loves the way his shirts smell like you after you've wore them.

He loves to keep his hands on your head, stroke your hair and all that stuff when you’re near him. He might even rest his arm on you as you’re so short, but only to get a reaction out of you and then smile at you afterwards and apologize.

Issho / Fujitora

He wouldn’t necessarily mind the big height difference and you being smaller, but he would almost freak out about hurting you by accident. He’d make extra effort to be super gentle with you.

He would be the most protective out of all of these 4 and he would literally help you with anything you ever ask for. He doesn’t tease you about your height, but he might worry sometimes a little bit too much.

He was very cautious the first time you cuddled for example. He was afraid to hug you tightly, because he wasn’t sure if he'd be able to control all his strength.

Once he is comfortable though, you can expect lots of hugs from him. By the way, he gives such excellent, comforting hugs!

Eventually he calms down with his concerns, but he will never NOT put effort to treat you gently like a flower in his hands.

I know for sure he loves to just gently caress your face with his fingers and appreciate you. He also loves to just cup your face with his hands and hold it. It makes his heart melt every time he does this.

[queenshelby]

Forbidden Desire (Part 14)

Pairing: Thomas Shelby x Reader (Female/Incestuous)

Warnings: Incest (at this stage accidental), Age Gap, PTSD, Domestic Abuse, Self-Harm, Fluff, Smut

Please comment and engage xx 😘

The following morning however, when you arrived at the factory office, Tommy was waiting for you, sitting behind his large wooden desk.

His presence filled the room, commanding attention and respect. He wore his usual attire: a dark suit, white shirt, and tie, accentuating his powerful physique.

As you walked towards him, you couldn't help but admire the raw masculinity that radiated from him. His muscular frame, piercing eyes, and rugged good looks made him truly irresistible. The sight of him brought back memories of the past, the passionate encounter that had left you aching for more.

But, his face was nothing but stern as he looked up at you.

"Come, sit," he said bluntly as he gave you an order

rather than an invitation. Tommy’s commanding tone sent a thrill through you, reminding you of the raw power that radiated from him. You hesitated for a moment, unsure if you wanted to be so close to him right now, but you complied nonetheless.

As you sat down, Tommy's gaze remained steady, unwavering, as though he was trying to read your thoughts.

"You are a Shelby now, whether you like it or not. And as a Shelby, you do not associate yourself with men like Liam O'Connor," your uncle explained and your pulse quickened as he spoke, feeling the weight of his words as anger rose from deep within you.

"Are you jealous Tommy or are you actually of the view that, as a Shelby, I cannot walk with a man of my choosing?" you queried with a hint of defiance in your voice.

"And why would I be jealous, eh? You are my fucking niece," 

he retorted, his eyes flashing with anger and possessiveness.

The tension in the room escalated as the two of you locked gazes, the intensity of your feelings for one another undeniable.

"I am your niece, yes, but some time ago, I was also your lover," you challenged, your voice low and measured, conveying a sense of power and control.

Tommy's expression hardened, his jaw clenching tightly. "What happened between us then doesn't change anything," he growled, clearly struggling with his emotions.

"No, it doesn't and that is exactly why you need to stay out of my private affairs, Thomas," you agreed, maintaining eye contact, refusing to be intimidated by his dominance.

His demeanour shifted, becoming less hostile as he sighed deeply, acknowledging your statement. "Alright, fine. But remember that the men I employ work for me for a reason. They are dangerous men, Y/N. Liam O'Connor is one of them and, I do no longer trust him now that he has taken an interest in you," Tommy explained after having slept on Polly's revelations and admissions. 

His declaration hung heavily in the air, a threat and a promise rolled into one. It stirred a mix of emotions within you - fear, excitement, and longing.

"You still want me, don't you?" your words echoed throughout the room, causing a chill to run down his spine. There was a pause as both of you took in the gravity of your statement. Tommy's eyes narrowed as he studied your face intently, searching for any signs of deception. His expression turned thoughtful as he considered your question.

"It doesn't matter what I want Love. You are family and I need to protect you," Tommy determined with a sigh.

"I can protect myself, Tommy!" you argued, determination etched on your features. "I'm not some fragile flower who needs to be shielded from harm." Your defiance only seemed to fuel his determination to protect you.

"You may think you're stronger than you are, but the truth is, we all need someone to watch our backs, eh," he replied with a steely resolve. "You are my responsibility, whether you like it or not and unless you want me to tell my brother about your relationship with Liam O'Connor, I want to know when you are going to see him next, eh," Tommy told you firmly, his eyes boring into yours.

There was silence in the room, as you processed his words. Despite your resolve, you were beginning to realize that he was serious about his warning.

"Tonight... I am seeing him tonight," you told him, looking downcast and fueled with anger. The mere mention of informing your father about Liam made you feel uneasy, knowing how he would react upon finding out about your dalliance.

"Where?" Tommy asked, clearly satisfied with your response.

"At my house," you admitted, feeling a mixture of guilt and frustration welling up inside you. 

"I will have your house watched by men who can be trusted, just in case, eh," Tommy stated matter-of-factly, his voice devoid of emotion. 

"Fine," you conceded, unable to argue further.

You knew that despite your resistance, Tommy's protective instincts ran deep, and there was little point in trying to change his mind. He needed to ensure you stayed safe, even if it meant encroaching on your personal life.

"You may go now," Tommy eventually told you with a note of finality in his voice and the room fell silent once again, as you stood up and prepared to leave.

A heavy burden weighed on your shoulders as you realized the precarious situation you found yourself in. The complexities of your relationships with Tommy and Liam threatened to consume you. How could you balance these competing forces without succumbing to the whims of either man?

***

On your way home, your thoughts drifted to the events of the evening. A surge of adrenaline coursed through your veins as you anticipated your meeting with Liam.

Part of you was excited by the forbidden nature of your secret rendezvous, while another part of you felt consumed by guilt, knowing that you were still deeply in love with Tommy. You recalled the passionate moments you shared with him, wondering if they could ever be rekindled.

Arriving at your house, you carefully checked the area before letting yourself in. Your heart raced as you imagined Tommy's men watching from the shadows, their cold stares following your every move.

It was awkward to know that you were being watched, yet there was also a sense of safety that came with Tommy's protection. He may be harsh and domineering, but deep down, you knew he cared for you.

Liam was already waiting for you when you entered your house, looking eager and slightly nervous. 

"Fuck, how did you get inside?" you asked, surprised to see him sitting on your lounge, sipping whiskey. 

"Your mother let me in before she left," Liam explained, his eyes glinting with darkness. 

"How do you know my mother?" you asked, suspiciously trying to gauge his intentions.

"I don't. But she saw Tommy's men outside and realised that I was one of them," Liam explained before advising you that, by now, Tommy's men would have left. 

"He asked them to watch you, because of me, didn't he?" Liam questioned, his tone laced with subtle aggression. You nodded silently, feeling the heat rise to your cheeks as you acknowledged the fact.

"There is something you should know about me, Y/N," Liam began, his voice taking on a deeper timbre. "I don't take kindly to anyone interfering in my affair, and that includes Thomas Shelby," he went on to say angrily, his gaze fixed on you, his intent clear.

"Listen, Liam," you tried to calm him down, but he wouldn't be pacified as, instead, he approached you, laying his claim.

"I love you, Y/N," he whispered tenderly, his hand caressing your cheek. "Don't let him come between us," he implored, his desire evident in his eyes.

You couldn't help but be swayed by his earnestness, his determination to stand against the seemingly insurmountable obstacle of your relationship with Tommy.

"Why should I believe you?" you asked, testing his sincerity.

"Because I am ready to fight for you, Y/N," he assured you, his voice full of conviction. "And together with the help of my acquaintance, Michael Gray, we can take over the family business," 

Liam continued, his eyes bright with ambition.

You hesitated, absorbing his words. It was the first time he had spoken about this alliance openly, and you couldn't ignore the looming presence of your uncle and the power he held over you.

"But what about Tommy and Arthur?" you questioned, genuinely concerned about the consequences of your actions.

"I don't care about them. They are two spent horses," Liam responded, his tone bordering on aggressive.

"Does Polly know about this?" you wondered aloud, your brow furrowing.

"Polly knows nothing," Liam insisted, a gleam of mischief in his eyes. "She would tell Tommy if she knew. We need to play our cards right." he suggested, and you could not believe what you were hearing.

"This is why you pursued me isn't it?" you probed further, seeking clarification while wondering where Tommy's men were at this point.

They were meant to be watching your house, but you felt as though they were neglecting their duties as, all of a sudden, Liam reached for your wrists.  

His touch made you anxious, leaving you vulnerable. "What are you doing?" you asked, trying to remain calm as his attitude changed. 

Liam took your hand in his, his grip strong and steady. "We are more than capable of seizing power from those who seek to control us," he said with confidence. "Thomas Shelby may hold power now, but it won't last forever. If we unite together, we can create something new, something better," he said, his voice dark and authoritative.

You looked around your house, thinking about a way to escape, but there was none. Your heart was racing, and your heart was spinning as you realized Liam's true intentions. 

You understood now why he had pursued you relentlessly, using every charm and resource at his disposal. He wanted to make you fall in love with him so he could use your newfound affection to secure a position within the family business. It was a cruel twist of fate that put you in this predicament.

Liam watched you warily, his expression a mix of determination and anticipation. Taking a deep breath, you summoned all your courage and faced him squarely.

"So, you think that if I fall in love with you, I would help you make a move against my father and uncle?” you queried, your voice laced with disbelief.

"Yes, and I also believe that once we are together, we can form a powerful alliance and, together with Michael Gray and his wife, we can take over the business," Liam responded confidently, unaware of the trap he had set for himself.

Stunned by his audacity, you took a step back, processing his words. The truth was undeniably painful as Liam had used you to manipulate his way into your family, and you, unknowingly, had played right into his hands.

Your heart pounded violently against your ribcage, and you felt nauseous from the shock of the revelation. 

“Marry me Y/N, and help us take over,” Liam's words continued to echo in your ears, reminding you of his cold, calculating nature.  

"I am not going to marry you, Liam!" you gasped, fury and betrayal coursing through your veins. "And even if I ever was to consider marrying someone, it certainly wouldn't be you!" you ought to point out, fuelling Liam's anger.

Anger flaring in his eyes, Liam leaned closer, challenging you with his stare. "Is that so? Then perhaps you should reconsider your options, Y/N. Because if you don't cooperate, it won't bode well for you,” he threatened you.

Your heart raced, fearing the worst. "What do you mean?" you asked, attempting to maintain your composure.

"Are you threatening me, Liam?" you ought to clarify, albeit knowing the answer. 

"Not at all," he replied, his tone eerily calm. "But I cannot guarantee that your father would put a bullet into his brother's head if he ever found out about your intimate relations with your Uncle Tommy," Liam exclaimed, his eyes narrowing. "Now, unless you change your mind, I will be forced to take matters into my own hands and have a word with the rest of the Shelby Family, disclosing your incestuous liaisons. Maybe the papers would take an interest in this too, seeing that Tommy is running for politics now," he went on to say, knowing that this could well and truly destroy the family business. 

His warning sent shivers down your spine, causing you to realize the extent of the danger you were in. You trembled slightly, realizing the precarious position you were in.

"Do not threaten me, Liam! What do you expect me to do?" you asked, your voice quivering with fear.

"Simple," he replied coldly. "Marry me and help me and Michael take over," he repeated, and your heart plummeted into your stomach as you processed his demand. “Your Shelby name is what I need. It’s worth something,” he went on to say, causing you to shake your head again in disbelief.  

Marriage? To this man? You couldn't possibly submit to such a life, bound to someone so cruel and selfish. Your resolve strengthened, and you spoke firmly, determined not to succumb to his threats.

"No, Liam. I will not marry you not only because of your despicable tactics but also because I simply cannot bring myself to love you. I will see Tommy about this, and I already know what he will do to you if he finds out about your threat," you told him sternly, frustration and fury lacing your voice.

His face clouded over with anger; his jaw clenched tightly. His hands shook, betraying his rage, as he tried to control his temper. Within seconds, he reached for your throat, grabbing it tightly with one hand. Fear flooded your body, your heart racing wildly as he squeezed harder. You gasped for air, tears streaming down your cheeks as he choked you. 

"You will not fuck me over Y/N!" Liam cursed as his grip tightened, and you knew that he had every intention to kill you by this point, so you kicked and screamed. 

"Stop! Please!" you gasped loudly, trying to fight Liam off and alarm anyone outside.

“Scream as much as you like. Tommy’s outside are dead,” Liam informed you, choking you harder as suddenly, amongst your struggles, you heard the sound of the door opening, followed by the sound of footsteps approaching rapidly.

You heard Tommy's voice shouting, full of rage, "Let go of her!" he yelled angrily, causing Liam to startle momentarily before tightening his grip on your neck.

By this point, Liam’s eyes flashed with murderous intent, almost ignoring Tommy's presence until Tommy approached him from behind, trying to pull him away from you with force.

Eventually, Liam let go of you, and you dropped to the ground. A fight broke out, and Liam drew his gun, raising it and aiming it straight at Tommy.

This caused you to panic as you knew there was no time to reason with him. Desperate, you lunged toward Liam, hoping to grab the gun from his grasp.

But, before you could act, Tommy pulled his gun and fired, the loud boom deafening the room. Liam dropped to the floor, blood seeping from the wound. With a chilling final glare, he lost consciousness.

Tommy was covered in blood, but the blood he was covered in was not his own.

You crawled towards him on the blood-soaked floor, your heart pounding in your chest. Tommy grabbed you by the arm, pulling you to your feet. The room was deathly silent as you watched the gruesome scene unfold before you.

Your heart hammered in your chest, the horror of witnessing Liam's demise etched into your memory forever. As your gaze met Tommy's, you saw the mixture of relief and concern reflected in his eyes.

"You shot him?" you barely managed to say, your voice merely above a whisper.

"Of course, I fucking shot him, Love. He fucking deserved it, eh" Tommy said roughly, his eyes hard and unforgiving. 

The room went quiet, save for the ticking of the clock on the wall, as everyone processed the implications of Liam's demise. You felt Tommy's strong arms wrap around you, offering comfort and protection. 

"I did not know about his intentions, Tommy! I really did not fucking know," you cried, your body trembling as you clung to your uncle, desperately seeking solace in his arms. You held onto him fiercely, your fingers digging into his muscular shoulders, as you both stood amidst the carnage that had befallen you all.

Inside, you couldn't help but feel a rush of adrenaline as you realized how close you had come to losing Tommy, the man who had always been there for you, offering support and love despite your connection.

It was at times like these that you understood the depth of your feelings for him, and you yearned to confess those feelings openly.

Tommy, still holding you tightly, looked down at you with a mixture of love and concern in his eyes. "You couldn't have known, Love, and it doesn't matter now. It's going to be okay, eh," he murmured softly, pressing a gentle kiss on your forehead.

"How did you know to come?" you asked while cupping Tommy's blood-stained face.

Your heart ached, and you could feel a tear forming in the corner of your eye. This was not how you wanted things to end, but it seemed like fate had taken hold of your life yet again.

"Moss informed me of the carnage Liam left on First Lane. He shot two of my men, so I came here as quickly as I could,’ Tommy explained with a heavy sigh, the exhaustion evident in his tone. 

"Thank you,” you barely managed to say while Tommy’s hold on you tightened.

"I thought I would fucking lose you, Y/N," he told you while cupping your face with his blood-stained hands.

His words sent a shiver down your spine, a mix of love and concern resonating within them. You realized then just how deep your feelings for him ran, longing to express them openly but knowing that this wasn't the time or place. Embracing you tightly, Tommy looked down at you with a mixture of love and concern in his eyes.

Then, Tommy's voice deepened, his warm breath ghosting across your ear as he spoke.   ”There is something I need to tell you," he said gently. 

"What do you want to tell me?" you asked cautiously, bracing yourself for whatever he might reveal.

Tommy took a deep breath, exhaling slowly before speaking. "Alright, here it goes," he began before inhaling again sharply while your heart thumped wildly in your chest, and you could feel the heat rising in your cheeks.

Then, Tommy's brow furrowed, his expression becoming intense. "I still love you," he admitted, a hint of vulnerability creeping into his voice. "And I promise you, I will find a way to make it up to you, eh?” he said. His words were honest and filled with sincerity, warming your heart even more.

Suddenly, you found yourself being lifted into Tommy's arms, his strong embrace making you feel safe once more. The room felt smaller now, just the two of you, surrounded by the echoes of your past mistakes. "You should never have to experience any pain for my sake," he continued his voice low and tender.

As Tommy spoke, your heart raced faster, feeling the intensity of his embrace. The world seemed to melt away, leaving you alone with him. In his arms, you felt a sense of safety and belonging and, despite the gravity of the situation, a wave of relief swept through you as you acknowledged your feelings for Tommy, recognizing the bond that connected you. 

"I know why you did what you did, Tommy," you told him before closing your eyes and leaning against his broad chest, allowing the warmth of his body to envelop you, the strength of his arms providing a refuge.

"And I forgave you for it some time ago, but I couldn't forget. I couldn't forget about you, the kisses, the sex, everything we shared," you admitted, and a silence fell upon the room as you allowed your words to sink in. Slowly, the corners of Tommy's mouth curved upwards, a small smile emerging, betraying his emotions.

Without words, he lifted up your chin, making you look at him before brushing his lips against yours, tender and reassuring.

"Out of all the women in this world, I have to fall in love with my fucking niece, eh," Tommy smirked after pulling back slightly, eyes locking with yours as they filled with unspoken promises.

"Yes, Uncle Tommy. I am your fucking niece, and you can't tell me that the thought of this doesn't arouse you just a tiny little bit," you teased before Tommy lowered his head again, this time pressing his lips firmly against yours. It was a passionate, almost savage kiss that left you breathless. Every nerve ending in your body lit up with pleasure, sending electric currents coursing through your veins.

The atmosphere in the room shifted drastically, growing increasingly erotic as the sexual tension between you two escalated. , He bent his head down to press a light kiss on your forehead, the warmth of his lips sending shivers down your spine. "It does arouse me," he murmured softly, his voice thick with emotion. “A little bit,” he then added as you both stood there, covered in blood.

Unable to resist, you leaned in closer, your lips meeting his in a tender kiss once more. The world seemed to fade away, and nothing else mattered except the undeniable passion that ignited between you both.

Your kisses grew deeper, more urgent as you both tried to convey the intensity of your feelings through your touch. Your hands roamed over his muscular back, tracing the lines of his sculpted torso. You revelled in the power of his embrace, relishing the way his strong arms wrapped around you, protecting you from the world outside.

He pressed his lips against yours, his tongue dancing teasingly with yours. His hands roamed down your waist, drawing you closer and bringing your hips flush against his. As your hips moved rhythmically, Tommy's hand travelled lower, slipping beneath your dress to cup your derrière. You gasped softly, feeling the pressure of his palm against your sensitive flesh. With each passing moment, you grew more aroused, unable to resist the urge to explore the contours of his body, even in this somewhat inappropriate situation.

As your lips captured each other's, you felt the intensity of his passion surge through your core until Tommy finally pulled away.

"I will call Johnny Dogs to clean up this mess, eh?" Tommy suggested, seeing that you still had to deal with the dead body in your house, which, at least for the past five minutes, you had ignored entirely.

"Where am I going to stay tonight?" you asked almost teasingly, a small grin forming on your lips before you handed Tommy your phone, and he made the call.

"You will be staying with me, Love," Tommy told you firmly after having made contact with Johnny, his blue eyes filled with resolve. 

He knew that there was no safer place for you than under his roof, especially after the events of tonight. 

"And what will you do to me, at your house, Uncle Tommy?" you teased, letting your voice drop seductively. You let your hand slide down his chest, brushing along his hard abs before stopping at the button of his trousers.

"Well, first of all, I will get you cleaned up," he replied huskily, his eyes darkening with desire.

"And then, I will probably fuck you, that is, if you are a good girl and behave yourself, eh?" he replied with a playful wink, his hand moving underneath your dress, grazing the soft skin of your inner thigh.

You laughed, taking Tommy's hand in yours and placing it against your throbbing core. "I think I can manage to behave myself, Uncle Tommy," you responded seductively, arching your back to press your breasts against his chest. "Just make sure to remind me of your threats when the time comes," you added with a devilish grin.

Tommy's eyes twinkled with amusement and lust, and he pulled you closer, his large hands wrapping around your waist.

"Trust me Love, I will do more than just remind you of my threats," Tommy teased, a devilish glint in his eyes.

As your bodies swayed together, you couldn't help but marvel at the connection between you both. There was an undeniable chemistry that had always existed between you two, one that transcended the boundaries of blood relations.

"Now, let's go before more coppers get here, eh?" Tommy commanded, his deep voice resonating through you.

His fingers laced with yours, leading you out of the room and towards the staircase.

The atmosphere in the house was eerie, almost as if the air itself held a secret. Your eyes scanned the dimly lit hallways, searching for signs of danger or witnesses who may have seen what happened. As you passed through the grand entrance hall, Tommy guided you towards the exit, the cool night air greeting you as you stepped outside. He helped you into his car, ensuring that you were comfortable before starting the engine. The streets were deserted, casting a sombre shadow over the city. 

"So, what happens to the body?" you asked as Tommy drove off into the night, his eyes focused on the road ahead.

"That's not your concern, Love. My men will take care of it," he replied gruffly, a faint trace of unease crossing his face. 

"It sure sounds like you have done this before," you commented with a raised eyebrow, catching Tommy's hesitation. 

"You know I have," he answered simply, his tone betraying a hint of darkness. "And don't ask questions you wouldn't want answers to, eh?" Tommy's warning was clear, yet you didn't back down, instead choosing to remain silent and let the conversation trail off.

"I still love you," you teased with a soft laugh, knowing full well how much Tommy craved your affection.

"Good," Tommy smirked arrogantly as he parked his car near his house. "Because I'm not letting you go again,” he announced as your gaze met his, the intensity of your feelings for each other palpable as you exchanged looks that seemed to hold entire universes within them. This wasn't merely a physical attraction; it was something far more profound, an undeniable connection that defied logic and reason.

Tag List Insert

@sunbeamseas @saint-ackerman @oatmealisweird @naxxsstuff @amanda08319 @r-m-cidnah @elysiannook @cillshot @infireddabdab @tastycakee @harrysbestiee @lilybabe22 @adalynlowell @henrywintersdearestgirl @ietss @thatgirlthatreadswattpad @ryiamarie @axionn

@heidimoreton @nela-cutie @futurecorps3 @delishen @nosebleeds-247 @thirteenis-myluckynumber @gills-lounge @hjmalmed @lost-fantasy @tiredkitten @sidechrisporn @smallsoulunknown @charqing-qing @hopefulinlove @aporiasposts @shycrybaby @me-and-your-husband @hjmalmed @lacontroller1991 @galxydefender @aporiasposts

@galxydefender @hunnibearrr @saint-ackerman @lunyyx @gentlemonsterjennie1 @ihavealotoffandomssorry @nadloves @lost-fantasy @nolucesn@mcavoy-girl @hjmalmed @bloodybagels @obeyme4life @richiesgroupie @blushykiss @tatumrileyslover @teawithsatanx @orijanko @rhaenyra4ever @xcinnamonmalfoyx @budugu @nadloves @kmc1989 @bloodybagels @obeyme4life @richiesgroupie

[spanishsenpai]

The New Guy

This really got away from me. It was only supposed to be like 2000 words max. ;-; Also Let Down + Choir by Radiohead played the entire time I wrote this so that's the headspace I was in while writing this XD

I do recommend clicking the AO3 link for this one when you finish reading. I put some end notes over there that will explain something that happens.

Summary: Wow! You bought something forever ago and never expected it to come in. It's here now though!

You only hope everyone gets along. What could go wrong introducing a new object to the chaos that is your house?

Read it on AO3 if you’d rather! :D

Ding Dong

You look up from the draft you and Lyric had been reading over, eyes wide in surprise. You didn’t have any visitors planned after all. Shooting Lyric an apologetic grin, you promise to finish this up tomorrow before taking the Dateviators off and pocketing them. 

At the door, the mailman greets you with a quick smile before handing you a clipboard to sign. By his feet is a large box covered in FRAGILE stickers. Your eyebrows scrunch in confusion as you sign. You don’t recall ordering anything recently. The mailman bids you a good day though and you drag the large, but surprisingly light, box inside. It’s tall and thin and only serves to confuse you further until you take a look at the shipping label.

Reading ‘coolswords4u.com’ the memory suddenly rushes into your mind. You’d made an impulse buy about a year ago. A kickass katana had seemed reasonably priced on the website and you had jumped at the opportunity to own a sword. When it hadn’t come in the next 6 months, you figured you had been scammed and promptly forgot about it.

Here it was though! Nearly a year later! Weird.

Excited now, you quickly drag the box to the living room and start opening it. When you get the box open, you’re greeted with a wooden case with a glass window on the door. Inside the case lies the katana you’d bought. At the sight of it, the question pops into your mind. Will the Dateviators transform this?

It shines in the afternoon light. There’s not a fingerprint or smudge on it. You open the case and carefully lift the sword. It's heavy enough to feel like real metal but you're no sword expert. The longer you look at it and handle it though, the more you realize why it was so reasonably priced. The blade is completely straight and the handle is wrapped in cheap satin rather than leather. When you carefully touch the edge, it feels quite dull against your skin. Another look in the box shows no certificate either.

You shrug. It’s not like you expected to get a real sword at such a cheap price. 

Better than a real one though, you have a new friend in hand. Grinning ear to ear, you set it down in the case and bring your Dateviators back out. Your heart beats fast as you kneel on the carpet and shoot those oh so cool laser beams at the katana.

Where the case sits a figure pops forth in a cloud of sparkly pink smoke. You cough as you breathe it in, waving it away and out of your face. Standing there, to your surprise, is a large masculine figure. Thick black frames sit on their face while the beginnings of a beard grow along their round jaw. A red bandana is tied around their head. They’re wearing what seems to be a costume from an anime that had aired when you were younger. Something related to martial arts? You don’t quite recall. On their feet are a pair of thick white socks and pink slippers.

The figure’s glasses block their eyes as the light shines on them. They sniff and make an unpleasant face at you. Quickly you stand as they look around, crossing their arms.

Before you can say anything, they chuckle and shove their glasses further up their nose. “So this is where highly trained swordsmen are sent nowadays. Pathetic.” His voice is a bit nasally and you feel compelled to offer him a tissue.

Your eyebrows rise as his gaze returns to you. “You,” he says, “while my presence can leave one frozen in awe, keep your mouth closed.”

Your jaw snaps shut. You hadn’t even realized it had fallen open. You shake your head, clearing your surprise, and offer a hand out to him. “Uh, hi! Nice to meet you. Welcome to my home.”

He scoffs, slapping your hand away. “My true name is too powerful to be heard by mortal ears but I shall give you a less overwhelming stand in as a customary acknowledgement.” He steps back, unsheathing a real sword you hadn’t noticed until now. With it, he strikes a pose similar to one a ship captain would make in a moment of victory, sword raised high in the air until it touched the ceiling. Oh, Celia was not going to like that. Have you mentioned how large this guy is? He might be as tall as Dorian or Freddy. “You may call me… Bladen.”

Your phone beeps as the data on Bladen enters your catalog app.

You open your mouth to say something but he stops you again. 

“Begone now! I must familiarize myself with this new terrain. Good day!” Aaaaand, he’s gone. In a cloud of smoke, no less.

You blink, stunned at the interaction. Bladen was certainly… spirited. You can’t help but laugh a bit at the thought of the others meeting him. You do hope everyone gets along though. You start cleaning up the cardboard mess and set the sword on the couch for now. You’re not really sure where you’re going to set it up yet. Might as well display it since it's here now though. Maybe you could ask Bladen tomorrow and see if he had a preference.

The Dateviators are out of charge for now and the sun is setting, so you whip up some dinner and head to bed, wondering about the newbie.

When you wake up, there’s an anxious energy in the air. You don’t know how to explain it but it feels like being in a room full of people about to be given bad news. The comparison makes your eyes widen as you recall Bladen. 

You pluck the Dateviators off the bedside table and put them on. Before you can even try to awaken someone, Skylar is there, looking anxious and poorly hiding it behind a too wide smile.

“Hiiii! Good morning,” she says, side eyeing the bedroom door the entire time.

“G-Good morning, Skylar,” you stutter, caught off guard at her sudden presence. “Is… Is everything okay?”

She makes a face that worries you. “Welllll, it's… it’s about our new friend, Bladen. It seems he isn’t meshing with everyone very well. He’s a bit… uh…?”

“Much!” Phoenicia shouts, appearing next to Skylar, hands on her hips and a disgruntled look on her face. “In fact, he’s too much! I’ve been getting nonstop texts about him all night from everyone!”

“Everyone?” You ask nervously. You never expected one object to cause so much negativity in the house.

“Well, mostly everyone. At least a majority of the house,” she corrects, a bit more calm as she stands up straight instead of looming over you.

You rub the back of your head, frowning at the revelation. “I knew he was a bit eccentric but I didn’t think he’d have this kind of reaction. What’s he doing? He’s not… He’s not hurting anyone is he?”

Skylar quickly shook her head. “No, no. Everyone’s okay. He’s just… ruffling a lot of feathers. He’s a bit rude is all.”

“Rude in the not cute way,” Phoenicia put in. “See, us objects have an understanding. We know we all live in the house together and try to keep some peace. He,” She pointed towards the door, teeth grit as she enunciated the word, “doesn’t care about keeping any peace. We have our fights sure, but we try to keep it contained to as few others as possible. That toy sword has gone stomping through every room and declaring ownership of it. I’d swear he was trying to start a fight.”

“Can you guys… hurt each other?” You ask hesitantly. 

Skylar’s face grows uncomfortable at the question. Eventually, she nods. “Yes, we can. It isn’t usually a problem though. Like Phoenicia said, we try to keep the peace. Things don’t get violent typically.”

Something like guilt is starting to grow in your chest. You hadn’t considered that you’d need to be careful of who you brought into the house. After seeing things like Nightmare and Shadowl0rd, caution had kind of been thrown to the wind.

You swallow thickly, looking up at Skylar and Phoenicia. “I’m so sorry guys. Do I need to take him out of the house?”

The question made Skylar’s eyebrows practically jump off her face.

“No!”

“Yes!”

They spoke at the same time, looking at each other in surprise.

“Girl, what-”

“Maybe he’s just having a tough time settling in,” Skylar interrupted. She fixed a smile on her face though her eyebrows seemed stuck in that pinched look. “It's a bit drastic to kick him to the curb already, isn’t it? Nothing’s actually happened yet.”

After a moment, you nod along in agreement. If it was just arguing, that did seem drastic. And… well you didn’t really know what to do with a katana if you weren’t keeping it. Throwing it away seemed like a waste and a bit… cruel? You weren’t sure how that worked.

“Let’s just give it another few days. He might just be nervous.”

Phoenicia doesn’t look convinced but Skylar’s smile is a little more real now.

“You’re the human, so we’ll do it your way, but I recommend you keep an eye on that one.” Phoenicia said before disappearing.

“Sorry to wake you up with this. I just wanted you to be aware of it in case anyone seemed… off kilter today. Go have some breakfast, I’m sure everything’s gonna be okay,” she said, seeming more sure now. She was gone then too.

You sigh when you’re alone. Gosh, you hope this doesn’t go poorly. You’d hate to judge Bladen too fast. He did have a real sword though… You shake your head. Nope! You’re going to wake up a little more before you dwell too much on this.

Jumping out of bed, you rush to put your clothes on and head downstairs, Dateviators, notably, off. Yet that tension in the air remains no matter what room you’re in. You even pop into the laundry closet just to check. You can almost hear Hoove huffing in unhappiness. You fear this is something you’re going to have to step in and handle. Maybe you should talk to Celia?

You know someone you’d like to get some input from. If Bladen is causing issues, you suspect Dorian would be the one handling them. He’s so level headed, you feel like his judgement of the situation would be best. And, well, you are friends. You feel more comfortable talking to him over the mayor of your house.

You put your plate in the sink and head over to the living room to pinpoint which Dorian would be best to speak to. Front Dorian may be the closest but he’s usually more focused on what’s going on outside. Office Dorian might be better for-

The katana is not on the couch anymore.

Okayyyy… That’s not… completely unusual. Bobby could move around. Surely the others could as well to some extent.

Still you can’t help but feel like you're in a ghost movie now. You’ve got a rouge, possibly hostile katana around here somewhere. Now you definitely want to talk to Dorian, for at least the added protection of having eyes on you.

You put the Dateviators on and rush over to office Dorian, awakening him and feeling a bit like Skylar earlier. After all, there might not be anything wrong and you don’t want Dorian to think you’re overreacting.

“You!” he shouts as soon as he pops up.

Oh great. You’ve really done it now.

“How am I supposed to do my job if you’re gonna go round letting everyone off the street in here? There’s not been this much trouble since the Breaker Box opened.”

You raise your hands in defense, though your eyes are pulled to Dorian’s unkempt hair. This must be serious if he isn’t as immaculate as usual. “Hey, I didn’t know there was going to be any problems!”

Dorian sputters and it's so completely out of character you almost let a laugh escape. “Anyone new should be vetted by me first. That sword of yours has been through every room in the house causing trouble.”

“So I’ve heard,” you grumble. Dorian quirks an eyebrow at you, making you let out a clearly fake chuckle. “Eheh, uh, I actually wanted to ask you about Bladen. Where is he? I left him on the couch but he’s gone.”

Dorian’s jaw clenches at the words. “He’s been all over. Right now…” He trails off, shutting his eyes for a moment. “...he’s in the gymnasium starting another argument.” His eyes snap open. “Aw hell, he’s starting a fight. A real one.”

“What?!” Your eyes snap up to the top of the stairs. 

You start to run up there but Dorian shouts, “Wait!”

You pause, looking at him in alarm. You’ve never heard him raise his voice before.

He looks flustered as well, eyes wide and a slight flush on his cheeks. “I don’t think you should go up there. With those on, he could hurt you. Let the Dorians up there handle it.”

The two of you stare at each other for a moment. You’re honestly touched that he cares, though maybe you shouldn’t be since he is in charge of everyone’s safety.

“I brought him here,” you say. “The least I could do is go make sure he doesn’t hurt anyone.”

Before Dorian can try to convince you, you race up the stairs. The sounds of a dispute are heard more clearly as you get closer even without activating anything. You push the door open and see the room has changed. It’s expanded, like when you went into the Breaker Box but the corners of the room are still distantly defined. The room almost looks like its turning into a dusty sparring pit. You swear you can make out the impression of trees and the sky in the furthest corner from the door. In the corner closest to the closet, one Dorian lies crumpled in a heap on the floor. If you had to guess, you’d say it was Closet Dorian. Bathroom Dorian is shuffling the other dateables out of the room though Kristof is protesting. 

As soon as you find Gym Dorian in the center of the room, you watch him bring his arm up to block a hit aimed at his head from the flat of Bladen’s own katana. The hit is strong enough that Dorian grunts with the force of it, stumbling slightly to the side.

“Bladen!” you shout. “What’s going on? What are you doing?”

Gym Dorian jolts at your voice, looking back at you with shock on his face. “What are you doing up here? Get out! Or take those damned glasses off!”

They’re out of charge. If you take them off now, you’ll have to wait until tomorrow to see what happened. You can’t do that.

You open your mouth to speak but instead a yelp comes out as Bladen strikes again, this time with the blade’s edge aimed right at Dorian’s side. It's so fast, Dorian puts his arm down to block it again, having no time to dodge out of the way. The force of the swing pushes Dorian and as he’s shoved to the side, you see a red stain on the blade. 

Your eyes go wide.

How can it cut? The blade is dull!

Dorian, gripping his bleeding arm, moves to get up, face dark with anger. Bladen’s leg swipes out in a sweeping motion, catching the back of Dorian’s knee and sending him right back down in a cloud of dust. It stuns Dorian long enough for Bladen to raise the katana over his head to bring down on him.

“I am the chosen one!” He shouts, voice twisted with rage.

“No!” You shout, rushing forward and slamming your shoulder as hard into Bladen’s sternum as you can. You hear an oof from him as you manage to somewhat wind him. He’s large though and absorbs your hit even when you’d given it your all. A meaty hand grabs the back of your shirt and practically throws you across the room until you hit the far wall with a heavy thunk. What you’d tried to do, Bladen does much better. You gasp for breath, falling to your knees as your shoulder aches and the reality of the situation truly hits you. You never expected Bladen to be so strong. You never expected him to hurt you.

The thunk makes Dorian whirl around to the noise. His eyes widen as he sees you fall. 

Bladen raises his katana again but Dorian is ready this time. As it comes down, Dorian rolls out of the way, hopping up to his feet quickly. He brings a fist back and decks Bladen as hard as he can in the face. Bladen cries out and stumbles back, hitting one of the large log pillars that have appeared in the dust circle. He brings a hand up to his throbbing, bleeding nose then looks up at Dorian with a furious glare. Dorian hisses in pain clutching his arm tighter since he’d had to use his cut arm for the punch. Blood is seeping from between his fingers and soaking into his sleeve. 

Just as you’re getting ready to get back up and try to at least be a distraction, Bathroom Dorian returns, teeth grit and eyes burning with fury. He rushes up to Gym Dorian’s side and grabs his shoulder. His entire body glows bright for a second then disappears. 

For a moment, you wonder what happened but as Gym Dorian takes his hand off his arm, you see the cut has closed some, bleeding significantly less now. Had they fused? When Bladen screams in rage, you decide it's not the time to dwell on it.

“You dare to lay a hand on me? Blademaster of the Nine Realms?” He snarls. What is he talking about? You don’t know if that’s a real thing or part of his character. In Bladen’s anger, he’s become faster. There’s no grandeur in his attacks now as he swipes his katana at Dorian again. Dorian dodges away, backing up until he’s stopping right in front of you. 

“Get out of here,” he growls. “This room is unstable now.” You nod weakly though he isn’t looking at you.

Bladen pushes himself off the wall towards the two of you. Dorian reaches back and grabs your arm, shoving you out of the way as he brings the other up to brace. The impact is loud as their combined weight makes the wall groan. You’re shocked Wallace hasn’t appeared with all the damage to his coveted walls. Though maybe he isn’t aware considering how far the room has warped. 

You grunt as you land in the doorway out to the hall but you can’t bring yourself to leave. Your vision focuses on the two of them. Dorian had managed to keep Bladen from crushing him entirely though his braced arms are nearly touching his face as Bladen continues to press down. 

Dorian snarls, tenses up, and gives one big shove, bracing against the wall to get Bladen off him. Bladen stumbles back but recovers quickly. The katana is raised again and suddenly there’s a flurry of movement as Bladen swipes wildly. Dorian ducks and dodges as best he can but this room isn’t very big. It’s only a matter of time before Bladen gets another hit in. 

Movement in the corner catches your attention though. Closet Dorian groans, shakily beginning to sit up as he clutches his head. His palm comes away red with blood. His face is pained and ever so slightly dazed. He coughs as the dust gets into his mouth. Gym Dorian is pushed into the closet door. His feet nearly trample the Dorian on the floor but he quickly ducks to the side, trying to get behind Bladen.

“Oi! Quit your fancy dancing!” He snaps, drawing Bladen’s attention away from this side of the room.

At Gym Dorian’s words, Closet Dorian manages to lift his head and sees the fighting. His efforts to get up are doubled, teeth grit as he tries to focus. 

“No,” you hiss at him. He jumps, head snapping up to look at you. Pieces of his hair are falling out of their neat styling and into his eyes. Down the right side of his face is a huge smear of blood, making him squint his eye on that side. “You’ll get hurt. You’re… You’re head-”

“You… shouldn’t be… here.” Closet Dorian coughs out. He clutches his head again. “S’not… It’s not safe. Go.” His other hand braces against the wall as he stands fully. 

Both of you look when Gym Dorian shouts again. He’s back on the ground. You can’t see if he’s been cut again before he brings his foot up and slams it into Bladen’s knee. As Bladen cries out, Dorian rolls to the side and gets back on his feet. His right leg gives for a second and that’s how you spot the slash just above his knee. 

Bladen has his back to the two of you as he approaches Gym Dorian. He’s breathing hard now and has a noticeable limp, yet his stance looks steady. How strong is this guy? He’s a knock off sword! How can he hold his own so well against Dorian?

Closet Dorian sees the opportunity but as soon as he lets go of the wall, he nearly falls again. He growls and quickly shoves himself back to his feet, each step a little more confident than the last. You can only watch as anxiety creeps up your back. If this went poorly, would the other Dorians come? What was Bladen’s goal here?

Your breath feels caught in your throat as Bladen lunges at Gym Dorian, katana aimed at the bouncer’s weak leg. Closet Dorian had found his footing though and started to sprint. Seeing Dorian move so quickly is jarring. For a door, he’s fast. Closet Dorian closes the distance in seconds and jumps on Bladen’s back, hooking one arm around his throat and squeezing as he leans back. Gym Dorian shoots forward and reels back an arm before punching as hard as he can into Bladen’s temple. 

Bladen thrashes in Dorian’s grip screeching curses and tanking the punch like a sandbag. For a moment, you fear Bladen is somehow invincible. But no, three punches from Gym Dorian and the lack of air thanks to Closet Dorian is what it takes for the katana to fall from his hand. His eyes roll up and he goes limp, putting all his weight on the still unsteady Closet Dorian. 

Closet Dorian grunts as he loosens his grip, nearly going down with Bladen. Gym Dorian is there though, putting the concussed Dorian’s arm over his shoulders. Both are breathing hard and are covered in dust. With Bladen unconscious though, the room begins to shrink back down to its original state. Even the dust starts to disappear. 

As it does and the three of them get closer again, you realize they need medical attention. You stand, ready to get Farya before remembering you can’t even call for her. You’re afraid even straying a foot from the room will make the Dateviators disconnect. 

You stare at Bladen’s body lying on the now mostly wooden floor and feel your eyes sting. This was all your fault. And now, you can’t even get help for the two Dorian’s that look like they’re about to fall over themselves. Now isn’t the time to cry or throw your pity party though. Surely there’s something you can do to help and sobbing your eyes out isn’t going to be it.

Gym Dorian helps Closet Dorian sit down against the wall by the door. You can see much better now that Closet Dorian is barely keeping his eyes open. He blinks heavy and slow. His body keeps tilting forward yet before he falls he jerks back upright. Gym Dorian is doing his best to hide the limp he’s got. The gash on his leg is deep. You’re shocked he can walk at all but he does. He doesn’t go far though, just to the doorframe you’re still standing in. 

“Hey, do us… a favor and… call Farya,” he says between heavy breaths. As he speaks, you see bedroom Dorian appear. The Dateviators are so weak though he looks more like a ghost. He nods and hurries downstairs. 

There’s a bruise forming on Gym Dorian’s cheekbone, you notice as he turns to look at you. 

He gently grabs your shoulder. When he speaks again his voice is soft and steady. “We’re alright, love. Take those off. You don’t need to see this anymore.”

His calm only makes you feel worse. You nod, not trusting yourself to speak. You give Bladen one more look and take the Dateviators off. 

Immediately a headache is pounding behind your eyes. You think you recall Skylar mentioning something about the Dateviators using alternative fuel sources if the battery was strained. You wonder if that’s what this is. You push the pain aside though and turn to look at the katana laying in the middle of the room. It's sitting innocently in its case, no blood, no dust, not even a fingerprint.

Quickly you rush over and pick it up, storming down the stairs. You just barely remember to leave the Dateviators inside before walking to the sidewalk and placing the katana on the curb. You’re not sure if there’s a property line rule that keeps Bladen from returning but just in case, you make sure the case is sitting in the gutter. A car wouldn’t run it over but maybe someone else could take it. You certainly don’t want it anymore.

You manage to walk back inside, pick up the Dateviators, and climb up the stairs before one glance at the open door to the gym makes you sob. Your face crumples and your chest aches as you run into your room and collapse on your bed.  

You’re so sorry. You never wanted anyone to get hurt. You’d never imagined this kind of thing would happen.

And Dorian. He hadn’t even been angry with you. You wish he had been. Maybe if he had yelled or cursed at you, some of his pain could be taken away. You’d do anything to take his pain away.

Your bones feel as if they’ve disappeared as you remain curled up in your bed, sobbing until the sun finally sets. Your eyes ache and your shoulder has finally begun to throb from hitting the wall. 

You’re so tired, you don’t even notice when you fall asleep. 

The next week, you avoid the Dateviators. They stay safely tucked in your bedside table with Ben-Hwa. The very thought of facing any of them, especially Dorian or Phoenicia, fills you with so much shame. Even leaving your room, knowing the eyes of everything in your home could be staring at you, feels impossible. You manage it when you need to eat though. Today you stood in front of the door to the gym. It still hangs open. You’ve been unable to bring yourself to touch it at all, much less close it. You managed to face it though and you finally apologized. Then you apologized again, raising your voice so Closet Dorian knows you’re talking to him. And you apologize to everyone else in the room who might have been scared or hurt.

And then you return to your bed. You cry again.

Another week goes by. Slowly, you eat more. You shower, comb your hair, and get dressed. Your shoulder doesn’t ache anymore. The guilt feels manageable now. You think you’re ready to face them. To face the consequences of your actions. Yet, as you open that bedside drawer, your hand shakes. 

You miss them. You’ve known them for such a short time but you’ve grown attached fast. If they hate you now for your recklessness, you don’t know what you’ll do. This is your home. Your sanctuary. What will you do knowing everything in it hates you?

You take a breath. You’ve hidden away for long enough. Time to face the music.

You pick up the Dateviators and slowly put them on your face. You blink as you adjust to the hue change through the lenses. You can’t help but brace, waiting for an angry face to appear and yell at you but all is quiet.

Who should you talk to first? 

You already know the answer.

Standing, you make the trek to the door across from your room. You take a trembling breath and awaken Dorian. You're staring at the floor, you realize when you see his ornate leather shoes appear.

Slowly, you look up and-

There he is. No bruises, no blood. His hair is neat and tidy. His expression, though, is just as guarded as usual.

“Dorian, I-I’m so sor-”

You’re cut off as a pair of arms pull you into a solid chest. Gently, they embrace you. You stare wide eyed into the white fabric of Dorian’s shirt.

“None of that now, love.”

The soft timbre of his voice makes your throat tight. All of a sudden, your arms are hugging him back as you hiccup while trying to choke down a sob.

“I-I’m so glad you’re okay. I never- I didn’t know-”

“Hush now, everything’s alright.”

And you believe him.

[x--daughters-of-darkness--x]

The 100 songs that changed metal (by Metal Hammer)

74. Within Temptation – Ice Queen (Mother Earth, 2000)

In the 90s, symphonic metal was more a glittering garnish than a scene in itself, something bands from Therion to Celtic Frost would sprinkle on their music to make it sparkle. And while the genre would start coming together into something more tangible towards the end of the decade, it wasn’t until a few years later that a song would emerge to put symphonic metal on the map.

That song was Within Temptation’s Ice Queen. A complete volte-face from the gothic doom of the Dutch metallers’ 1997 debut, Enter, it appeared on the follow-up, Mother Earth, in a flurry of lavish arrangements and fairytale histrionics. Buoyed by vocalist Sharon den Adel’s crystalline voice, it pushed metal towards a new frontier, quickly whipping up a buzz in mainland Europe. Ice Queen can take credit for being symphonic metal’s first major hit, pushing women to the forefront and influencing a brand new generation of bands.

81. Evanescence – Bring Me To Life (Fallen, 2003)

Evanescence’s debut single, Bring Me To Life, turned vocalist Amy Lee into a megastar. Arriving in 2003, when mainstream music was dominated by hyper-masculine men and overly sexualised pop stars, with her billowing long skirts, corset tops, arm socks and steely self-confidence, Amy redefined what a female artist could be, becoming a role model for millions of misfits and dreamers everywhere.

Despite its crunchy guitars and a rapped verse, courtesy of 12 Stones’ Paul McCoy – which Amy has since said she was forced to add by their label – Bring Me To Life’s cobwebby, goth fragility also brought something fresh to nu metal’s dick-swinging party, extending the mainstream’s flirtation with the genre for a little longer – as of 2019, it’s sold more than 3 million copies and has passed more than a billion streams on YouTube and Spotify.

82. Arch Enemy – We Will Rise (Anthems Of Rebellion, 2003)

We Will Rise was a huge song, not only for Arch Enemy but for the new generation of 21st-century melodic death metal they spearheaded. Guitarist Michael Amott had already laid down the melodeath blueprints with Carcass, while Arch Enemy themselves had already made three albums with singer Johan Liiva, but neither they nor anyone else had made an anthem quite like this.

As well as propelling the genre as a whole to greater heights and popularity, it provided a bigger platform for Angela Gossow – a hugely influential figure and one of the first prominent female vocalists to not only try but absolutely nail an extreme metal style. “Her emergence as a metal vocalist was, without hyperbole, revolutionary,” Svalbard’s Serena Cherry told us recently, and we’re not arguing.

84. Nightwish – Nemo (Once, 2004)

Nightwish didn’t invent symphonic metal, but alongside peers Within Temptation and Epica, they popularised it and packaged it to the masses. By 2004, the Finns had already established themselves as a major player in Europe, but with the sumptuous Nemo, they broke through on an unprecedented level.

No longer a niche concern in the geeky corners of the metal world, symphonic metal, in all its lavish, overwrought glory revelled under a global spotlight. Nemo’s fantastical magic, sparkling piano refrain and stirring melody has endured – it’s still the band’s best-known song – but its lasting image comes via its gothic music video, and then-singer Tarja Turunen singing in the snow in a blood-red coat. Nemo showed metal at its most fragile and beautiful.

95. Babymetal – Gimme Chocolate!! (Babymetal, 2014)

If elitists were tearing their hair out at the likes of Ghost, Bring Me The Horizon and Limp Bizkit being considered ‘metal’, then they might as well have just reached for the clippers for this one. The sight of three young Japanese girls rocking choreographed moves and singing sugary-sweet, J-pop-infused choruses about chocolate over heavy metal riffs was as shocking as it was delightful.

Babymetal hadn’t just broken the mould for metal, either; they’d given the West a fuller glimpse into the uniquely Japanese phenomenon of idol culture, and given the cutesy world of Kawaii a bigger global platform than ever. Overseen by band mastermind and producer extraordinaire, Key ‘Kobametal’ Kobayashi, Babymetal were unlike anything our world had seen before: equal parts hyper-polished girl band and full-on heavy metal experience, with their mysterious Kami Band backing musicians as formidable as any ‘proper’ metal band you could name.

Cynics moaned, but with the likes of Rob Halford, Metallica and Corey Taylor throwing in their support, the trio quickly transcended their ‘gimmick’ tag to become a legitimate force in the modern metal landscape.

99. Spiritbox – Holy Roller (Eternal Blue, 2022)

Spiritbox were already firmly established as Ones To Watch by the time Holy Roller, the first single from Eternal Blue, exploded like a hand grenade in the summer of 2020. Once those first, colossal riffs rang out, however, it was clear that the Canadian troupe hadn’t just levelled up considerably – they had successfully repositioned themselves as one of the most exciting and vital bands of their generation.

Backed by a memorable video inspired by Ari Aster’s disturbing Midsommar movie, Holy Roller was the perfect crystallisation of the last decade-plus of evolution in metal, packing djent, metalcore, nu metal and more into a massively crushing (but seriously catchy!) three minutes. “This song was never intended to be a single,” explained vocalist Courtney LaPlante later. “Our mission statement was, ‘Let’s make the most ridiculous song that we can.’”