#and I started animating to keep me awake while I cried in the dark

[mossypidder]

I AM NOT OKAY I AM NOT OKAY I AM NOT

[teleeportedbread2233]

D'arcenki part 5

The two walked down the long dirt path, after hours of walking they finally reached a small wooden home built into the hill, “Is this where we’re living now? A hole in the side of a hill with a dirt floor? I’d rather die than live in this.” Enki snarled, D’arce simply sighed and pushed the door open, it was a surprisingly large home with a living room and kitchen, two bathrooms and two bedrooms.

D’arce let out a nostalgic sigh and sat down “I haven’t been here since I was a kid. Sooooo how about we get the lamps lit, a fire going and some food in us?.” D’arce said with a bit of excitement in her voice. “I feel terrible, I’m going to bed, wake me when needed.” Enki mumbled as he hobbled into the other bedroom slamming the door shut making D’arce and The girl flinch “Well I guess it’s just you and me now huh sweetie?.” D’arce picked the girl up who nuzzled her neck “Let’s get you in something other than this dress.” D’arce headed into her old bedroom, she hadn’t been there since she was around 16 a few years before her grandfather died, the bed was just big enough for her to fit but it wouldn’t be very comfortable.

D’arce grabbed the steamer trunk under the bed and pulled it out, she opened it up and searched through it finally finding a t- shirt and pants “Here! These should fit.” 

…..

Enki sat on the bed unable to sleep as his stomach rumbled, he sat in the dark no matter how much fear gnawed at him. After the dungeon he hated the dark and death or anything related to either, the bugs he once loved he couldn’t handle being in the same room as, he used to love the dark when he slept, but now he would stay awake all night and sleep all day as the dark scared him far too much…………….so he sat there before letting out a few stifled whimpers and sobs as he cried in the dark.

…..

Months went by, things got better and worse. Winter was over and spring had settled, D’arce’s hair had grown out, Her and Enki along with the girl had gained some weight, Cahara had visited every so often along with Celeste and the new baby.

Enki had started to get less sleep, every morning he would end up vomiting no matter how hard he tried and he felt tired no matter what he did. What scared him the most was his period was late not by too much but enough for it to be noticeable. 

D’arce had been trying her best to survive in the wilderness, she was a rich kid after all, winter had been difficult and brutal with the three nearly starving several times, it was hard to get food as D’arce had no idea which plants and animals could be eaten and which ones couldn’t, Ragnvaldr was rather helpful as he spent his winters and springs in Rondon while he spent his summers and falls in Oldegard, he managed to keep the three fed and warm while he spent some time there.

Enki felt like a burden since physical work wasn’t really his thing and with the missing leg and dizziness whenever he stood up made it almost impossible to even leave the house let alone do anything but read and sleep at the kitchen table as laying down and standing made him equally dizzy and nauseated. The girl had gotten a lot better, she spent a month with each group, one with Enki and D’arce, the other with Cahara, Celeste and Ragnvaldr, it seemed to be very good for her and she seemed much happier.

Enki sat at the dinner table reading a book, he didn’t feel like moving or eating or talking or really doing anything, all he wanted now was to read. Thankfully The girl was with Cahara and his wife and their husband so at least someone was taking care of her, Enki was never fit to be a parent and he knew he never wanted to be one, but with The girl it was different, he saw himself in her a scared vulnerable child with no idea how to express how she really felt.

The door creaked open and D’arce walked in soaked by the rain, “It’s pouring out there.” She said as she grabbed the kettle ready to make some tea, Enki grunted in response as the rain intensified, he had felt horrible all day and generally didn’t wanna talk.

He laid his head on the table with a groan, “You alright?.” D’arce asked as she nuzzled into Enki’s neck giving him a few kisses, the two weren’t really dating but they had sex quite frequently and had grown very affection, Enki was more on the receiving end sometimes getting a kiss or an arm wrapped around him or in some cases have his ass slapped. He grunted as D’arce nipped at his neck slowly and started to grope him, “G-get your hands off of me.” He snarled, “Mhm you feel softer, I like it.” D’arce mumbled into his neck as she bit down, Enki moaned softly his lip quivering, before the two could get any further they heard a knock on the door, “Fuck who is it?.” D’arce grumbled as she opened the door, finding nothing, just a rock and some kids running off in the opposite direction.

D’arce sighed and shut the door before grabbing the kettle as it finished boiling, she poured it into two cups, handing one of them to Enki. He took a sip. “You’re getting better at this……………still terrible but at least I can drink it.” Enki sighed and cracked the book open as he continued to read. “Soooooooo how’s your day been?.” D’arce asked him as she sipped her tea. “It was fine I woke up and started reading like normal, Why do you care?.” D’arce chuckled, leaning her head against her hand, “I just wanted to know, I’ve been outside since 8 in the morning and you’ve been inside ALL day.” Enki sighed and took a sip of the rather bitter although slightly sweet tea.

…….

Enki tossed and turned in his sleep before he awoke drenched in sweat and some kind of slime, he shakily stood up as the dizziness started and his stomach started to churn, he lit the lantern next to his bed, even though he hated the dark he tried his best to ignore the gnawing fear.

He stumbled into the bathroom not even bothering to light the lantern on the ceiling, he knelt in front of the toilet and began to retch and gag, he felt bile and what little food he ate rising in his throat, he vomited his stomach starting to cramp and churn, he knew it was gonna be a long night.

……

2 hours later Enki sighed and whimpered as he finally managed to get his vomiting under control, the lantern had long since gone out, he slowly stood up dizzy with his eyes welling up. 

He lit the lantern once again and stumbled to the door and left the room leaning against the wall, he slowly walked to D’arces bedroom door and opened it.

It was around 6 am, allowing for the pink and blue morning sky to light the room a little bit. He stood in the doorway as D’arce turned to him, “Enki? That you?.” She asked as she propped herself up on her elbows.

Enki simply mumbled as he turned off the lantern, “Can I sleep here tonight?.” He asked swaying in the doorway, his voice groggy and a bit choked up, “O-of course……... .it's been awhile since we did that, come here.” D’arce patted the spot next to her as she scooted over, Enki slowly stumbled over and instead of collapsing on the bed he fell right on top of D’arce.

D’arce let out a small wince as the bony priest landed right on top of her, “My my your freezing.” She quickly pulled the blanket over both of them, “And you smell like vomit.” D’arce rubbed Enki’s back, Enki didn’t even reply he just sat there breathing heavily as his vision blurred and he shivered.

After many many hours of shivering and whimpering Enki managed to fall asleep around 10 am, 2 hours before D’arce would wake up.

Sooooo this was pretty short huh? Shorter than the others that’s for sure, also you guys can probably guess what’s gonna happen to Enki next chapter.

[leniisreallycool]

​​​​​​Short story I wrote for a contest a few years ago. I won 4th place

      "Do I get bonus points if I act like I care?"

        His harsh words cut her to the bone. It isn't just his words, but also his cold tone and fierce glare. She had seen him behave sharply to others many, many times in the past, yet the dark haired man had always been gentle and kind towards her. And now, he spoke to her like she was misbehaving animal. It hurt her more than she thought it would. 

        "But this is a problem! Can't you see it?" she cries, hoping some part of him - even if it was deep, deep down - would hear her pleas and soften his attitude.

        "I know - and it's you."

        She reels back. This... this isn't right. Jackson, her Jackson, would never speak to her this way. But here they were. A vague feeling of unease settles in her bones, and she feels a chill run down her spine.

        "Wait! We can work this out. We can talk about it, make this right!" Even as she spoke, she knew in her heart things would never be the same as before - before she learned how many secrets he was really hiding from her. Although... This day would have come far sooner had he known just how much she was keeping from him.

        "This is pointless. I'm leaving." Jackson turns away from her and starts down the alley into the dark, swirling mist, away from the harsh glare of the streetlamps illuminating the sidewalk where the pair stand.

        "Jackson! Jackson, wait!" She couldn't let him walk away. Not when she knew that if he did, they would strike him down where he stood. She reaches out and tries to snatch his arm before he really tries to leave, but he's already beyond her reach.

        Her cries fall on deaf ears, and she hangs her head low, knowing exactly what would happen next, though dreading it with all her heart. She doesn't want to see. She's seen it all many times before.

        His strides are swift and purposeful, as if he's trying to put as much distance between himself and her as he can, but somehow soundless even on the pavement. He travels about five yards before a sharp crack splits the silence that fell between them. He staggers backward, clutching his chest and drops to the ground, legs suddenly incapable of holding his weight. He manages to twist around and look her in the face, but she can't meet his gaze.

        "You- you work with them!" He seems like he was about to say more, but harsh, wet coughs cut him off before he could.

        "I do. I tried to warn you." Her tone is quiet, remorseful. She regrets every choice that led them to this moment.

        Jackson coughs again, more intensely this time. She could tell he only had seconds left.

        Finally, she lifts her head and forces herself to look into his betrayed eyes. "I tried, Jackson. I really did. But you know how they are - you know how they operate. But my orders were to get close to you, and I had to obey." Her voice starts shaking and she pauses for a moment to regain her composure.

        Jackson stares at her. "You were a double agent, too, huh?" His voice grew weaker, less steady.

          "Yeah. And they knew you were, so I was assigned to keep an eye on you while spying on your people. It wasn't supposed to turn out this way..." Her voice cracks at the end, but keeps her gaze fixed on his eyes - his beautiful blue eyes that always reminded her of fresh blueberries.

          "I... see..."

          A sickening rock of dread forms in her stomach. She knows what will happen next; the same events happen every time. Yet she can never walk herself up before Jackson stands up and turns to fully face her, slick red blood soaking his shirt, an evil grin twisting his features.

          "You did this to me. You did this to me!"

*************************************************************

          I awake with a start, but I'm careful not to move. I squeeze my eyes shut and force my breath to stay steady and deep, as though I'm still sleeping. Maybe I can fool myself into thinking I can rest after that god-awful nightmare.

          Hollywood likes to pretend that people wake up screaming and flailing when they wake up from a recurring nightmare. Fiction likes to pretend that people wake up with full on fight-or-flight mode on, ready to run away or impale someone with whatever's nearby. Me? I 

          The dream goes the same way every night. First, I see the events that really happened that evening: I try to talk to him, he walks away and gets shot. Then the dream aspect kicks in and I watch him stand up, laugh like a maniac, and tear me apart limb by limb.

          Eventually, my tense muscles relax a little, but my mind refuses to do the same. It keeps playing that evening over and over, forcing me to watch as the man I once loved die over and over again, knowing that I - and I alone - am the reason he died. If I had asked to not be assigned to watch him and make sure that he couldn't deliver any real information to our rivaling gang, he wouldn't have died. Or at least, I wouldn't have cared about him. That thought hurts almost as much as the memory of the nightmare.

        I give up on trying to rest. I throw off the covers and stand up, hoping whatever dream demons still lingering in my mind don't materialize in front of me. I make my way to the kitchen in the dark. The whole house is dark as the ocean floor on a new moon, since the only way I can convince my body to sleep is if it's completely dark. It doesn't always work, though.

        Even in the dark, I have the kitchen's layout down pat. Sink across from the doorway, combined stove-oven perpendicular to the sink, tall cabinets that support the counters. Most importantly, the liquor cabinet that sits beside the doorway.

        I clench my eyes shut and flick the light switch. Even then, I still have to cover my eyes with one hand to protect them from the sudden glare piercing my eyelids. After a minute I feel comfortable enough to open my eyes.

        The liquor cabinet has glass doors to reveal the numerous amber bottles filled with liquid oblivion. The temptation to just take out a bottle of alcohol and down the whole thing is more than I have any reason to fight. The glass door is cool in my hand, as is the bottle of rum I select.

        Drops of the spirits roll down my hand when I unceremoniously twist off the top of the bottle with my shaking hands. No need to bother with a glass; I just chug straight from the bottle.

        When I finally stop to take a breath, my reflection stares back at me from the glass door. A disheveled mess with my dark hair tangled down my back, dark circles like bruises beneath my eyes, unhealthily pale skin from drinking more than I ought and staying indoors all the time. I look like what the Devil must look like on a Sunday morning after a night in town. I shudder to think what my old acquaintances most likely think of me now.

        It's been four full years since that night. The night I lured my lover to his death. I left the Crimson Hand after that, but they've never tried to eliminate me (the customary treatment for traitors). Perhaps it's because of the fact that power changed hands not long after I left. I'm not sure if I'm grateful or irritated that they haven't offed me yet. 

        I promised myself something. I promised that I would live and make up for what I did. I doubt I ever can, but I swore to myself and Jackson I would. I knelt at his grave and vowed I would. So I guess I have to, don't I?

[lazysimp]

Hey hey hey it's bakugo x Female cow* reader. {PLOT} bakugo Is overprotective of his little cow* cuz all the other animals aka bulls want reader. so every time he See's the other bulls messing with his bb🥺 he has to run up and scare them away which might end up reader being bred cuz they weren't giving him enough attention

Click Here to read male reader

A/N: I have never written anything like this before so let me know what you think. These are the features I imagined Bakugou/reader has. I hope you don’t mind that I did this more as thirst than a full fic.

Warnings/tags: NONCON/DUBCON, cow girl (Idk how to tag that), animal hybrid fic, breeding, oral sex, vaginal sex, Fem reader

When you had first stepped foot onto the soft grass you immediately attracted dozens of eyes but one pair stood out.

They belonged to a bull not any larger than the rest but his vivid red eyes gave away how dangerous he really was. You made a mental note to avoid him at all costs but it seemed he had a different idea.

Everywhere you went those same red eyes followed you. You tried to lose him in the crowd but that only created a new problem, the other bulls.

Their harassment started off small, a few wolf whistles here and there, but soon it escalated into something darker, they tried to corner you whenever you were alone, using their size to block you in, you had no chance in hell of scaring them off.

Somehow every time they almost had you, they always would back off at the last second, their eyes wide with fear. You had always been too relieved to care why they left.

But one day as the sun set you decided to lay under a new tree, wanting some privacy from the prying eyes, unknowing that you were being followed. As you lay your head down on the soft grass a dark shadow covered you.

You crack your eyes open, not wanting to give away that you were awake but the figure above you knew better.

His large hands seal themselves around your heels pulling you towards his body. He rested on his knees, his cock already standing just from the sight of you.

For weeks he had worked to earn your trust, defending you from all the others, making sure you had plenty of food, the best places to sleep, and even protecting you from himself.

But watching you sleep under his tree, whether you knew it or not, was too much for him to handle, he needed to claim you and now.

Your sweet eyes looked up at him with fear, unsure what he was going to do, you had not meant to invade his space, you just wanted some time to yourself from the others but you had unknowingly waved a red flag looking so sweet and innocent under his tree, oh you were going to be his.

Not wasting any more time his head descended, teasing you with his mouth. At first, you had tried to deny him, unsure what he really wanted, but as his tongue twirled around the tender bud of your clit you forgot why you were fighting.

Before you could reach your final peak his mouth stopped and he rose to his knees giving you the chance to stare at him. His fat cock stood straight up nearly touching his belly button. His stomach was covered in a fine layer of blonde hair and he had a thick tuft of hair just above the base of his cock.

You try to scramble away, your brain finally able to think again but he was faster, lifting you briefly into the air before setting you down, pushing your head down into the grass while forcing you to lift your hips.

“That is it,” he groans, finally able to catch a glimpse of your tight entrance. His cock ached at the thought of finally being able to fill you up.

Not wasting any more time he uses his thumbs to spread apart your cunt, he lets out a long stream of spit, wetting your tense hole. He admired as you squirmed around under him, your little tail waving frantically.

“Shh,” he cooed, stroking the soft skin of your back with his fingers, “I am going to make you feel so good, fill you up until your stomach is full of my cum.”

You wiggle, even more, feeling the strange feeling from earlier return.

“That’s it,” he lines his cock up with your entrance and before you could draw in another breath he pushes forward. He ignored your pained cries and keeps going until he is fully seated. He feels bad causing you pain but he needed to claim you, to show everyone else that you were his.

After giving you a minute to adjust to his intrusion he pulls back his hips, admiring how your hole flutters around his cock. Yes, he had never been more certain. You were his, and he was going to show all of them. The only way he will ever allow you to leave his side is with his cum dripping from your hole, showing all of them who you belong to.

Soon your cries grow into whimpers as his thick cock brushes past a wonderful spot inside you, sending small sparks of pleasure through you. You grab the grass under you, needing something to hold onto as he claimed you.

Pleased to see you had finally accepted your place his hand reaches down, his middle finger slipping through your slick folds to find your clit. When his finger lands on the bundle you lurch forward, the pleasure too much but he pushed you back into place and stroked his finger in time with his thrusts. You had no hope in stopping the blinding pleasure crashing through you finally reached your peak.

Feeling you cum around him sent Bakugou over the edge. He leaned over, groaning in your ear as he released inside you, your clenching pussy milking his cock for every drop of cum.

You both fall to the ground, still resting under the shade of the tree. "Mine,” he mumbles, "That sweet fuckin' cunt is all mine," his lush lips press a gentle kiss to your forehead as he pulls you in close.

You snuggle in closer, already feeling his essence starting to drip out from your abused hole but you were too tired to care. Your life had just changed drastically and you wanted to freak out but as he tucked your head into his chest the only thought you had was how warm you felt.

[berrymoos]

I think my ask the other day was sacrificed to the Tumblr gods and I have school in the morning so have this little thought

Also alluding to major spoilers for ST V2

Steve's first experience with age regression and caregiving was definitely when Dustin regressed after a nightmare (maybe or maybe not involving eddie) and called him dada bc he was very small and scared :((

Steve's unknown protective caregiver mode kicked in and he just went along with it because Dustin obviously needed the comfort and who's Steve to deny it to his little brother in all but blood \(°- °)/

While Steve's first experience with regressing himself, Robin had bought him a gag gift of a winnie the pooh stuffed animal and he was ecstatic about it /pos

Nancy who was jonnys cg at times immediately knew what was going on and helped him when he begged her to open it and she obliged, how could she not?

After Steve went to sleep cuddled up to winnie, Nancy decided to explain what was going on and that's how they found out robin was a regressor too!

hngehgheh maybe it did get sacrificed to the tumblr gods bc i cant find it in my inbox >:~[ hate when that happens!! but i hope your school year goes well, aiden!! i don't start until after labor day, but im pretty sure i have 2 orientations to go to before that time 💔

sorry this was so delayed btw, i've been pretty drained with lack of sleep & other summer things, not to mention this concept got SUPER long

something about these two events makes me think they happened in like the span of a few weeks maybe? hekdjwodksk idk why??

like ,, steve & dustin had been having a sleepover (rlly less a sleepover more of a "we fell asleep during our movie marathon" moment) when dustin is startled awake in the middle of the night by a nightmare. The Nightmare – the one about that night, after a certain someone ... you know :(

it's particularly scary in this case bc he woke up in the dark on a couch, in a place that wasn't home; even with that nightmare, being at home & able to instantly recognize where he was, able to snatch a comfort item in a blink offered some instant comfort, especially with a rapidly regressing brain. not being at home adds more of a scare, regardless if he actually knows the place (steve's house)

the exact moment he starts whimpering upon getting greeted with darkness (the thing he was in) & then full on crying, unable to properly see exactly where he was, something in steve’s slumber begins to feel wrong. he stirs to hear sniffling coming from where dustin had been sleeping. he's got a knack for knowing in his gut when one of his friends are crying, especially the kids

"dustin?" he mumbles, already getting up to go to him, but dustin kicks off his blankets as best he can to get to him first, but he ends up getting tangled so he can't – no no NO the bats got him he's gonna get EATEN – now crying audibly & reaching out frantically for him. steve, naturally being concerned, is now even more concerned for him, but when he untangles dustin from the mess of blankets & the kid crashes into his arms, sobbing "dada...!" over & over again into his chest, every part of him SCREAMS oh my god, he cannot let him out of his sight for the rest of the night

steve sits there for as long as it takes to calm dustin, rocking the sobbing little guy back & forth in his lap, messing with his curls to ground him until his cries tamper off into simple sniffles & hiccups. he asks, in a gentle (bordering on parental) voice if he wants to talk about it, but when dustin responds with a low whine, steve doesn’t press. instead, he carries him to the kitchen (given dustin refuses to let him go no matter what) & offers him a bottle of water: “don't drink too fast, mkay?”

dustin proceeds to drink too fast even with steve's hand partially keeping it steady, choking a little on the water

“that's exactly why, buddy.”

dustin looks at him – god, the look in his eyes is so innocent. “so’hy dada...”

steve smiles; if had any doubts about what dustin called him before, they're all gone now. he definitely called him dada. “it's alright. just drink a little slower.”

he spends the next hour getting dustin to relax by taking him to his room to playing numerous made-up games (ranging from peek-a-boo to some kind of tickle game he made up on the spot), indulging in junk food, & continuing their movie night (but forgoing any horror movies). dustin gets fussy when he starts getting sleepy, afraid of another nightmare, but steve brings him close to his chest, bounces him on his knee, & plays with his hair – in minutes, dustin's snoozing peacefully on his lap with two fingers lodged in his mouth

as cute as it is, steve can't help but wonder: what was that all about?

come the next morning & dustin is so embarrassed – like more than he's ever been in his entire life. literally the moment he wakes up & notices steve is up as well he's LAUNCHING into this apology, how he didn't mean for any of that to happen, how he knows steve isn't his dad but in the moment with his scrambled & terrified brain it just slipped and he'll never do it again, god he's so weird–

“dustin! dustin, it's fine! i'm not mad or anything, i promise.”

“you're– you're not?”

“no, ’course not, dude. i'm just ... a little confused about what happened last night.”

brief relief washes over him. thank god he's not mad. “okay. okay, cool ... great.”

dustin tells steve about everything that went on that night over some breakfast he made, but dustin is more playing with his food than anything; steve already said he wasn't mad about it, but will that hold up after he tells him about how this isn't his first time feeling small & how it's formally called age regression? will he still like him after it all?

"oh. okay."

"...okay...?"

"yeah. okay. you said it helps you deal with ... what happened, right? that it's a reaction your brain has when things are too much?"

"mhm."

"then why wouldn't it be okay? a lot of shit has happened and after so much of it, your brain kinda..." steve makes this whistling sound as he dives his finger toward the table, then an exploding sound when it hits. "so it's just trying to protect y- dustin? you okay?"

he asks bc dustin is crying over his plate of uneaten breakfast & that cg surge from last night comes back, though not as strong as before. he's ready to hop up from his chair to comfort him, but: "th-thanks, steve. you're- i love you, man."

steve smiles gently & takes his hand in his. "i love you, too. now eat your breakfast, i slaved over that stove for you and my hard work is getting cold!"

for about two weeks, steve & dustin are like even tighter than before with their new dynamic: dustin feels small, he walkies steve, steve comes over, & they take it from there. all is well, really! nothing too out of the norm, but steve learns some things abt this little guy in the process – like how he loves stuffing foreign objects in his MOUTH, dustin you canNOT eat this WATCH

of course, things are relative in the norm – yknow, baby dustin / cg steve – until steve is presented with a winnie the pooh stuffie from robin when he visits her & nancy three weeks after dustin's nightmare, & this sudden yet pleasant fuzzy feeling washes over him the MOMENT he sees the cute little tail sticking out of the wrapping paper. he knows INSTANTLY what the gift is bc he was like, the BIGGEST winnie the pooh fan when he was little (& actually still is 👀), so he doesn't even have to see the whole gift – he just knows

he's so excited he can't even get the wrapping paper off, it keeps slipping thro his butterfingers 😭😭 "nancyyy!! nancy nancy nancy nancy!!! need help!! help help help, p’ease!!", bouncing on the balls of his feet & wiggling like a little worm AUGH ╥﹏╥ nancy is MELTING on the spot as she goes "i got it. bud, give it here." & opens it for him - IMMEDIATELY steve grabs it & tugs nance & robin along to play with his new toy ,, robin is a little bit confused bc ?? what's up with her best friend?? he doesnt usually act like this?? but she never ever judges him – that's not who she is!! in fact she might've played a little harder with him than nancy did 🤭 not that that was a problem, bc nancy was sitting there monitoring the two of them, soft around the edges thinking about how similar little steve is to jonny ˙˚ʚ(´◡`)ɞ˚˙

& when steve starts drifting off to sleep & nancy tucks him (and winnie, ofc <3) into bed, robin's earlier confusion comes back

"hey, nance? uh ... what was that? not that i'm gonna judge or anything like that! i'm just ... a little confused? i've never seen him act like that..."

"oh! it's called age regression. kind of like when the mind reverts to a simpler stage in life for one reason or another. usually it's because of trauma, but other times it's for stress and whatnot."

reverts back to a simpler stage because of trauma or stress... "nancy...?"

"yea, rob?"

"can people .. regress just for fun, too?"

"i'm pretty sure they can."

oh.

is that the fuzzy feelings that comes to her when she passes the care bear stuffies at the store or sees one of their movies at work?

is that why she gets so giggly at simple things like watching dogs play fetch at the park or going up high on the swings?

that ... has to be why she feels much smaller than normal when she has a doctor's appointment & cries more freely when she has to get a shot, right?

that's ... the same feeling she kind of felt while she was playing with steve.

"robin? are you okay?"

"oh– yeah, just .. figured out a few things about myself, that's all."

even though she's not very explicit about what she means, when she meets nancy's eyes, it's clear that she understands by the way she smiles

& in that hour or so later, after steve wakes up, out of his newfound headspace and finds robin & nancy chilling in the living room, talking amongst themselves, winnie still in his arms, nancy is prepared to talk to steve about what just happened - like homegirl has a speech at the ready

"hey, steve?"

"hey, nancy."

"you're probably really confused on what just happened-"

"mh, no. not really. age regression."

well. her speech is thrown out the window instantly 💀 she spent that entire hour practicing with robin & he just. already knows?

"wh–? you already know? you've regressed before?"

that night with dustin – and all of the days following it – come barreling into steve's mind. a fond feeling softens his heart

"yeah. a friend told me about it."

[luimagines]

Hey it’s the same comfort anon! I really loved what did with the prompt!

If you don’t mind I have another rq 👉👈

RQ: You help them out during an embarrassing situation.

Masterlist

Comfort Anon! My first requester! I’m so glad you enjoyed it. I’m glad you think I did it justice!

I absolutely do not mind that you have another request!

I think I’m going to keep all of them in the same post this time around.

Set platonically and within the group since there wasn’t any specification.

You know the drill! Scenario under the cut!

Twilight

“Wolfie...” You try to fight the grin on your face and fail. “What are you doing?”

Said wolf pauses and stares at you thus beginning an impromptu staring contest.

You had been walking away from the camp to relieve yourself when you spotted familiar looking fur running around. It had sparked your interest so you ventured closer as quietly as you could.

When you reach your furry friend, you feel your face split into a large grin.

Wolfie was running in circles and rolling around the dirt trying to catch his tail.

It naturally amuses you greatly and you decided to watch for a little moment longer before Wolfie had actually managed to catch his tail and had begun chewing on it with fervor.

Realistically, you knew it probably itched and the poor thing was just trying to scratch it in the best way he could.

But it was still so adorably cute!

You ask your question, breaking the moment and try to hide your amusement for the sake of the creatures pride.

You can see the moment when Wolfie sees you. His whole body goes still and he stops chewing himself completely. Wolfie slowly lets his tail out of his mouth, making a small thump against the ground, while never breaking eye contact and waits.

You’re not sure for what but the way he’s staring at you makes you think you weren’t supposed to see what you saw. He looks the equivalent of getting your hand caught in the cookie jar and is trying to see how much trouble he’s going to get in.

It’s makes the whole thing infinitely funnier.

Your giggles escape and the animal begins to lower his head to the ground, ears back and flattened.

You’d dare say he looks embarrassed.

It softens your heart to see Wolfie in such a state so you try to rein in one final snort, fail, and begin to leave. “I’ll... leave you to it, Wolfie. I gotta pee. Have fun with what you’re over there.”

With your back turned, Wolfie gives out a pitiful whine that leaves you snickering until you find a more private spot.

Apparently, this one’s taken. 

Wild

“Wild...” You say, looking upward until your neck hurts. “How do you manage these things? I swear it’s only you who gets into this kind of stuff.”

“I just want to make eggs for breakfast!” He cries in defense. “I’m sorry for trying to do something nice for all of you!”

“Oh no, I get that. It’s this that worries me.” You sigh and try to get step back and assess the situation. Looking up is a little easier with and you’re able to see a better plan of action.

In theory anyway.

Wild, as mentioned, was about to make breakfast and had thus spotted eggs in  a nearby tree. Naturally he wanted to go collect them and feed his friends but there’s one thing he didn’t account on. The mother returned.

That being said, he freaked out enough that he dropped the sheikah slate, nearly fell out of the tree and in the ruckus had also scared away the mother.

He kept the eggs though.

However, when the word nearly is mentioned it’s meant to bring point that he didn’t actually fall out of tree. ...But he still might.

Why?

Because the only reason he didn’t hit the ground head first is because his foot got caught in one of the branches.

So he’s hanging upside down by his ankle and can’t access his tools to even attempt to get out.

This is where you, dear reader, come in.

Wild was actually far enough away and covered by enough foliage that the others haven’t noticed him in this precarious situation. You though, were heading to the creak nearby to wash your face and begin your morning routine.

Wild then yelled just loud enough to catch your attention and had asked for your assistance.

“Are you sure I can’t just get Twilight? Or Time?” You ask him. “I’m sure that one of them can just shake the tree and you’ll be free.”

“NO! Do not! Just-!” He flails around a bit, the branch creaking in protest but doesn’t  budge from the spot. “I get into a lot of stuff but neither of them will ever let me live this down.”

“What about Warrior then? Or Legend? He might have a tool of something to get you out-”

“No one else can know! Why can’t you just help me?” Wild begs.

“I have to say I’m little over my head here.” You admit. “Or rather, you’re a little over my head.”

“Very funny.”

“I think I have an idea but you have to catch yourself.” You grin and begin to move away.

“Just make it quick. All the blood is flowing to my head.”

You jog back to camp and take out your sword. A few more familiar faces are awake now and waiting for their food. 

“Hey,” Wind greets you with a tired smile and a yawn. “Where’s Wild?”

“He’s a little hung up at the moment.” You smile. “I just gotta go help him for a second and he’ll be back.”

Wind takes the answer for what it is, too tired to read too much into it and nods.

You sprint back and grin wildly. “Try to stay out of my way ok?”

“You couldn’t think of any other solution?” Wild nearly whines.

“This is the quickest way. You said make it quick.” You take a breath and run forward. With your momentum to run what you can up the tree and jump. With the added height to turn to where Wild is and swing in his foot’s direction.

With speed and accuracy on your part, you slice the branch that’s been holding him back and the two of you fall to the ground.

Wild dips into a roll and somehow manages to expertly swipe the slate off of the ground as he passes it. You do a similar motion but angle yourself to not come into contact with your blade.

Together you spot each other and grin, small laughs exiting your mouths as you get up.

“Thanks for that.” Wild pats himself off and turns on his heel. “I gotta get breakfast started but I’ll come get you when it’s done, ok?”

You nod and begin to head toward the creek once more, willing to play as if this never happened.

You decide on the way to not tell Wild that the branch is still stuck on his boot though. 

Time

Everyone was in Wild’s house for the day, chilling while they could, since there was little to no activity.

Time had actually retired momentarily to take a nap on Wild’s bed for the afternoon.

It was quiet.

Because the group was afraid to wake up the grumpiest member of the group.

So naturally you wanted to take advantage of the peace and brought your book and sat on the stairs while the boys took over the table and floor.

After a hot minute, you looked up to see that half of the group was gone, haven’t left to do something more chaotic and grinned to yourself.

Behind you the wood of the house creaked under applied pressure. You turned around to look at the cause and saw that Time had woken up from his nap. His eyes were closed and he was mid-yawn as he traveled down the stairs.

You got up from your spot and traveled a few steps to let him pass, but that didn’t happen.

Time hadn’t opened his eye yet and had mis-stepped.

His mistake cost him his pride as he fell down the stairs all the way down to the floor.

“Don’t break a hip old man!” Warrior called out in a laughing voice.

You threw your book onto the table and went to help Time up. “Are you ok?”

“Ow.” He deadpanned and grabbed the railing for good measure. “On top of that, I think I left my shoes up by the bed.”

“I’ll get them” You squeaked around him and dashed up the stairs. In your enthusiasm you over stepped one of the steps and fell up the stairs.

You paused in shame and shock while Warrior lost his battle and started laughing hysterically.

Swallowing the last of your dignity, you dash up the remaining steps and help your friend.

You came back down with an attempt to hold your head up high and held out Time’s shoes out to him. “I think these are yours.”

There was a small smile on his tired face. “Thank you. Are you ok?”

“Yes.” You nod. “I’m fine. Nothing happened. No one saw anything.”

Time snorted and took them from you. “Of course.”

Warrior

It’s was absolutely pouring.

Everyone was wet and there was no shelter in sight. It was dark and loud and everyone still had to continue forward.

No one was happy and everyone was silently fuming at the unideal circumstances.

You were walking next to Warrior, not making eye contact with anyone and you had to stop from commenting that he looked like a drowned rat.

His scarf has no doubt doubled in weight with all the water its absorbed and Warrior kept having to adjust it. It was sagging off of his shoulders and he kept having to adjust it or else it risked falling into the muddied ground.

As time passed Warrior had to continually fix it, and adjust it and he was growing exponentially frustrated with the prospect and was getting fed up with it.

You watched in growing amusement and restrained from offering your help because you were certain that he would snap at you.

In one final moment of baled up frustrations, he threw the scarf in one more lap around his neck and... well... he overjudged the strength needed and it swung all the way around just to smack him right back in his face.

Oh but it didn’t end there.

In his moment of blindness, he mis-stepped and tripped.

He hit the ground on his knees first but kept going, twisting to his side, just missing slamming his face into the mud as well.

You just stop in your tracks and tried your hardest to not laugh.

With hesitant steps, you walked over to Warrior who slowly started to get up.

His entire side was just brown. And Warrior... didn’t bother with showing the emotion on his face.

Just a neutral face of displeasure.

You quickly, helped him to his feet and and began cupping your hands to throw the collected rain water onto him and wipe off the mud.

It’s not helping.

“Not. One. Word.” Warrior takes a deep breath and begins to help you clean himself off.

“Yes, Captain.” You grin and take his hand. “You want me to take the blame? Say I pushed you down or something.”

“It’s fine.” Warrior bites the words as he says them. 

You pass a creek.

With the idea in your head, you shove Warrior hard and he goes right into the water like you wanted him to.

“Excuse me!” He screeches as his head bobs above the water.

The mud is washed off as least.

“You’re clean again! No one will know!”

Warrior is not amused.

You grin. “It’s not like you got any wetter.”

“...Why are you like this?”

“I’ll take my thanks in monetary compensation.”

Hyrule

“Hyrule.” You gasp. “Oh no. Oh boy. Don’t go back yet. Hold on. Don’t leave. Stay here.”

He pauses and does what you say, although confusedly. “Ok? Why?” 

“There’s a rip in your pants. Huge. I can see your whole-” 

“WHAT?” Hyrule grips the fabric and finally catches wind of the tear. It’s long and goes down the side of his leg but it’s... pretty revealing.

“I’ve got some sewing stuff in my pack.” You say dropping your equipment and dashing as quickly as you could. “I can sew it up. No one will know the difference.”

“...I can never show my face again.”

You roll your eyes and make the quick trip. There’s a small part in the reptilian part of your brain that calls to make it a quick mission. Stealth, silence and shadows are your friends and you make it back to camp, grab your supplies and make a break for it without tripping anyone else’s hand.

When you return to Hyrule, he’s sat down a nearby rock and inspecting what he can of the rip.

“I have no idea how you managed this,” you say when you get close to him again. “But I’ve managed to get there and back with no one knowing. I will, however, need you to take off your pants.”

Hyrule flushes bright red instantly.

“...Do I have to?”

“Unless you’re ok with my face being right next to your-”

“No, no, I’ll do it, I’ll do it.” Hyrule gulps and strips.

“I’m glad you agreed because I, for one, was not ok with that.” You hold your hand out and take the pants from him. “At least your tunic is long.”

“This is humiliating.” Hyrule mutters and sit down on the ground instead of the rock and hugs his legs close.

“Why on earth do you think I stopped you? Someone had to save you from the the ridicule of the others. Like don’t get me wrong, we all like you but there’s no survivors, no mercy, and no alliances when it comes to roasts.” You sat down in front of him and began to sew up the tear. “Any idea how this happened?”

“I think it got caught on a bush?” He rests his head on his knees and avoids eye contact. “I suppose I should thank you.”

“A bush?” You put it down and and stare at him. “A bush?”

He doesn’t reply.

“Hyrule if your clothes are weak enough to rip this badly on a bush then we need to get you knew clothes.” You finish and return to your task of fixing his pants. “We can get Legend and Wild and figure something out. Wild has enough clothes to spare and Legend knows good quality when he sees it. I’ll pay for your new clothes next town we invade, ok?”

“I can’t believe this happened.” He says instead.

“Give me ten minutes and you can at least put your pants back on.”

Legend

They were having a race.

The boys were so bored that they were having a race.

It was between Legend, Wild, Wind, Hyrule and Twilight.

Sky refused to run, Time was content with just watching and Warrior had a bet going so he had money on who the winner would be.

You were the judge and had placed yourself at the end of the strip with a small cloth for a flag and got in position. It was anything goes. Items, sabotage, dirty plays- anything.

Twilight was actually competing on Epona.

“Ready?” You call with a grin. “Get set! GO!”

You hear them take off but there’s a blast of wind next to you.

It’s so close to you that it takes you by surprise so you scream in shock but it ends in a thunk against the tree behind you.

There’s a groan and you turn to see the winner.

Twilight is next and he stops before he could run you over. “Are you kidding me? What the heck did he do? How did he do that?”

Legend is sitting in front of the tree and rubbing his head.

He wins at least.

The others make it within the next minute and they groan and whine but they leave without looking at the winner.

You grin and skip over to him, placing your hand on his shoulder when you get there. “Congrats, Mr. Hero. It looks like you were the- oh my god.”

You kneel next to him and tilts his face towards yours.

He’s bleeding from the face, a cut on his eye and a bloody nose.

“Hey, so you see this tree here?” He spits and it’s more blood.

“Yeah?”

“I didn’t.” He hisses and goes to wipe with his sleeve but you stop him.

“Oh boy. Hold on.” You gently take the cloth flag that you have and wipe his face, getting him to pinch his nose as you wipe his cut.

It’s thankfully not deep and not bleeding profusely. With a little inspiration, you take out your bag, your magically enchanted pocket and pull out a potion.

Legend is quick to refuse but you shake your head and splash a little on his face. The magic hits the cuts and is absorbed in his skin.

“Hey!” He splutters.

“Oh, I’m sorry. Did you want to explain to Warrior why your face is bleeding?” You smirk and begin cleaning the rest of the blood of him.

Legend pouts and looks away, letting you work.

“I guess not.”

“I thought so.”

Sky

“Oh... that is... not ideal...” You hear Sky say.

With your interest piqued, you turned your head to look at him and what was bothering him.

“Sky, what did you do?”

It... was interesting. Somehow Sky had managed to get his whip stuck in a tree. Not just caught between two branches, no that would have been too easy to pull out. It had somehow wrapped around the branch, at least three times and was too tall for anyone in the group to get out unless they had somehow managed to climb the tree.

The tree itself was also inclined to be easy to climb. You were quick to see that only The Champion could probably scale it but he wasn’t here at the moment. 

Twilight kidnapped him to go fishing.

“...How?” You ask and make your way over to him. “How did you do this?”

He glances at you with wide eyes and a bit lip. ”Help?”

“Ho boy...” You take a breath and get up. “This.... I have one solution.”

“Ok?”

“How good is your aim?” You glance up at the problem again. “Scratch that, how good is your throwing arm?”

“Pretty good I like to think.” He admits. 

“Ok, throw it over the branch but in the opposite direction. We have to undo the loops first.”

“We? Sounds like it’s just me.” Sky steps closer to the tree and prepares to throw the handle over the branch.

“Well there’s not exactly place for me to step in now, is there?” You put your hands on your hips and smirk.

It goes over one loop just fine.

It still doesn’t budge.

Sky throws it again, misses, tries again and makes it.

It’s only one loop over the branch but it still won’t move. 

“You’ve got to be kidding me.” Sky growls and throws it into the air in frustration.

“Ok, hold on, if it just need one more throw-”

He made it loose in the process but neither of you were paying attention. It had sung for a minute, budged and had swung all the way back to to you both coming off of the branch in the process. The inertia was still in motion and it had managed to hit Sky directly in the face while you were talking.

Luckily, it wasn’t that strong of a hit.

“Oh hey!” You grin and try not to laugh. “It’s out!”

“Let’s never speak of this.”

“Come on, it’s funny.”

“Ever.”

Four

“Wild, do you have any towels I can dry my hands off with?” Four asks from behind you.

You were all in Wild’s house once more and currently getting ready for dinner.

“Yeah, top shelf.” Wild replies without looking up from the pot.

You glance back as well to see where Wild would have been thinking about.

Yup, you think, that’s the top shelf alright.

Four is stuck staring at the height and begins to slowly look around.

You get an idea of where he’s going with this and power walk to his side. Your intuition is proven correct when he then attempts to climb Wild’s house and furniture just to get it.

His hands are also still wet, mind you.

You can see his white knuckled grip as he tries to fight the lack of traction and decide to help him out.

“I got it!” He says, when you nudge him aside.

“You don’t.” You reply and copy his movements to reach a singular towel. You’re back down in a split second but the bounty in within your grasp.

“It’s not like you can reach it either!”

“Still took me less time and significantly less climbing to get it.” You toss the towel in his face with a grin. “I doubt you even had good grip either. I thought you were going to fall and crack your head open on the floor.”

“Please don’t fall in my house and crack your head on the floor.” Wild speaks up. “Blood is so hard to clean up.”

“Know from experience?”

“Don’t tell Twilight.”

“Get lower shelves Wild Child.” Four dries his hands and tosses the troublesome cloth to Wild.

He catches it with blinking and shoves it into his apron. “I’ll take your criticism to the manager and see what we can do.”

“Manager? This is your house! You’re the manager!”

“So? I said what I said!”

“You boys done play fighting or are we going to have to wait to eat?” You ask.

...

“I’d like to eat now please.”

“On it.”

Wind

It was your turn on watch and there was nothing to do.

Not that you were asking for trouble but it would have been nice to at least be able to do patrol or something.

But nooooo... For safety reasons, i.e. the storm just beyond your coverings, everyone was supposed to stay within the camp at all times.

You didn’t disagree with it so to speak. It was more of a mild inconvenience.

That was until Wind got up with whispered...but still loud, curses.

You stood up and tip toed your away around the half hazardly tossed limbs of your comrades. “Everything ok Wind?”

He jumps and grabs the blankets around himself, folding them, bunching them together and curling ever so slightly over himself.

“Everything’s fine!”

“Shh..” You put a finger to your lips and look around the group.

No one woke up.

“What’s got your jimmies in a twist kid?” You squat down and place your hand on the blankets. They’re wet and the smell....

Oh you know what happened.

You stand up again and give him the curtesy of not saying it out loud. “I have a plan but you have to do as I say, no questions asked. We can make it so no one will know what happened. Ever. And this stays between only you and me, ok?”

You wipe your hand on your pants and hold out the opposite one to the boy. He stares at you with a red face and contemplates the choice. After only two seconds of deliberation, he takes your hand and gets up.

You suppose that to have an out, verses having to explain to everyone that he’s been looking up to sounds very appealing in the end. Better for only one person to know than ten.

“You’re lucky it’s still pouring buckets.” you say and grab all the blankets from his bed roll that you can. Chancing a glance at him, you see that his clothes are wet as well, pretty much from the waist down. With another thing to fix, you notice that his very bedroll is right by a huge puddle that had been forming and no one knew.

The hand in the glass water trick, then.

Your friends have seen and done that a few times to a few poor unsuspecting soul.

“Ok, here’s what you’re going to do.” You turn to Wind. “You’re going to change out of your clothes and into some clean ones. And then you’re going back to bed in my bed roll.”

“But where will you sleep?” He asks with a hand gripping his shirt

“I’ll steal it from the next guy.” You lie...kinda... That actually sounds appealing but you don’t think on it too much. “I’ll take the next shift to buy time and I’m going to throw your blankets and bed roll out into the rain, ok?”

“You were too close to the borders of the tarp anyway.” You continue with your plan, throwing them out for a second before turning on your heel and getting some of your clothes for Wind.

You think you might have something that’ll fit him but if not, it’s only to sleep in.

He changes into the clothes while you back out to the blankets.

In your search for the clothes, you dug out your powered soap and tossed some of it on the blankets and bed roll. After rubbing the fabric together to get it sudsy and deep into the material, you set it up against the tree and branches, letting the falling rain drops hit it and filter through.

It’s rudimentary and it took you longer than you wanted because now you’re also soaked to the bone and only halfway through but you think back to being a thirteen year old and how embarrassed you would have been and plow on to save Wind from the same fate.

You step back into the tarp and guide Wind, taking his clothes away to where you were sleeping prior. You’re clothes are way too big on him and it’s honestly more endearing than you would have thought.

“Thanks.” Wind says in a small voice. He’s humiliated, you know but you don’t focus on it.

“Your hand got wet and you pissed yourself in your sleep.” You say and shrug. “My friends and I were... are brats and it’s not the first we’ve played that prank. Put the poor saps in a glass of warm water and watch them pee their pants. It’s funny when it’s planned and well... not you. I won’t tell a soul.”

“You better not.” He sits down in your bed roll and begins to get comfortable. “It’s smells nice.”

“I try.” You grin.

“Do I owe you?” He looks up with big eyes and you think that it makes him look younger than he is.

“It’s on the house.” You wave him off and dash back in the rain to clean the rest of his clothes.

On the way back to cover, you kick the support that was closest to Wind’s spot, sending a torrent of rain upon yourself in the process but the spot where the pirate was is considered useless now.

Wind tilts his head from his spot and you grin. “Cover story.”

The rest of night is spent watching the time, watching the others and taking turns with Wind’s clothes and blankets by the fire so that all three of you can dry off before the sun comes up and the other inevitably ask questions.

By morning you’re dead on your feet, but consider it a job well done. 

[watermelonlovershigh]

Your Daughter Gets Scared of a Thunderstorm (FLUFF)

AN: thought of this idea and decided to write it. i miss writing dad Harry one shots honestly. it's short but sweet.

PLEASE MESSAGE ME IN MY INBOX IF YOU GOT THIS POST FROM A NOTIFICATION OR HOW EVER YOU FOUND THIS POST!!!!!

Things to help you understand this better:

(Husband & Wife/Daughter age 3/Fine Line Harry era)

It's around 2:00 in the morning and mother nature has decided to throw a tantrum and let go of her anger. Every few seconds, bright streaks of lightning color the sky, followed by loud bangs of thunder that raddle the ground. Not to mention, the shattering rain that's pouring from the night sky.

Harry and I are sleeping in our bed. At the start of the night, we were cuddling with each other, but now we're on our separate sides of the bed. Harry on his right side, facing away from me and I'm on my back staring at the celling. I was asleep but just woke up. The ruckus outside is keeping me awake now and I can't seem to fall back asleep. I'm not one that's typically terrified of bad weather, but I don't particularly enjoy it. It does give me anxiety.

As the thunder gets louder and the rain comes down harder, I feel a spike in my anxiety. The only person I know that can comfort me is my husband. So I shuffle over on the bed and tap on Harry's muscular and bare back. He stirs for a minute before turning around and with a deep, raspy voice, he asks, "What's wrong my love?"

"Can you hold me. I don't like the weather." I reply back shyly.

"Of course darling. Come ere'." Harry responds back in a comforting tone. With Harry on his back now, I rest my head on his shoulder and drape one arm over his tattooed tummy and one of my legs are thrown over top his. He rubs up and down my back with one of his hands and his other hand rests on top of mine that's splayed on his stomach. I can feel his wedding ring that adorns his ring finger and I'm sure he can feel mine as well. Just as my body was relaxing onto his comforting hold, an extra loud boom of thunder echoes through the house and it's followed by a loud, wailing cry from the room down the hall. Our daughters room.

I was going to get up from the bed and check on her when Harry stops me. "I'll go see if she's alright love. You stay right here okay." I hum a quiet yes and let go of my hold around him. He bends down to peck my lips before getting out the warm covers and blindly pads over to the bedroom door and down the hall to our presumably scared daughters room.

Walking into her room, only lite up with a night light, Harry goes straight to her little princess bed and picks up our crying and shaking toddler. "Shhh my baby," Harry coos in her ear, while holding her to his chest, "you're aright. Daddies got you. You're safe my love."

"I scared!" the toddler cries, leaving her daddies shoulder soaked with salty tears.

"Do you want to come sleep with mummy and I? Would that make you feel better, baby." Harry questions softly, knowing the answer is already yes. We hardly ever let her sleep with us because we don't want it to become a habit, but for special reasons like when she's sick or had a nightmare, we'll allow it. Or in this case, scared of a thunderstorm.

"Pweez." she mumbles through her tears into Harry's skin. Her tiny arms are looped around his neck and her chunky legs are around his ribcage. Harry bends down and picks up her little stuffed animal from her bed, knowing she loves sleeping with it, and places it between his body and hers, to hold until they come back to our bed.

Harry exits her room with our daughter clung to his body and travels down the hall to our bedroom. When they walk inside, the lamp is on from where I had turned it on, not wanting to be by myself in the dark. "Is she alright?" I sit up and ask worriedly.

"Yes darling, just a bit frightened by the loud thunder outside. She's okay. I'll protect her. I'll protect both of you." Harry replies with a gentle smile, getting back under the duvet with our daughter in his hold. She has stopped crying mostly. Just a few sniffles and hiccups, with a tear stained face. I reach over and turn the lamp back off, making the room dark again besides the lightning coming from our window, lighting the room every few seconds.

Harry situates our daughter on the right side of his chest, in a more comfortable position, and places her stuffed animal into her tiny hands for her to grasp. She takes it immediately and hold it in a tight squeeze. Then I scoot back over and resume my place on his left side, head on his shoulder and leg thrown on top of his. I stretch my arm over his body and instead of putting my hand back on his tattooed tummy, I place it on our daughters small back, rubbing over her pj shirt.

Harry reaches down and pulls the covers up over our bodies more, having the edge rest at our chins. Then he whispers, "Love you both so so so much. I'll always protect my girls. Never let anything ever happen to you guys." When he spoke that heartfelt mini speech, I could feel him squeeze our bodies tighter, showing a sign of non verbal affection. Harry bends down and pecks our toddlers cheek and turns his head to kiss my forehead.

"Love you too babe. Best dad and husband in the whole world." I say, half asleep now. Though mother nature is still throwing a fit outside, I feel safe in my husbands arms and I also have butterflies at the slight of our daughter peacefully sleeping on her daddy's chest. Her little mouth is slightly parted and puffs of air is fanning over his neck. Makes me want to give Harry another baby. Two mini Harry's walking around is something that makes me have baby fever at just the thought. But that's for another day and another discussion. Right now, I'm happy with the family of three we have and fall asleep peacefully in my husbands arms.

Masterlist (regular smut, fluff & sicfics)

My Favorite Harry Styles Fics MASTERLIST

Harry Styles Series One Shots Masterlist (for my one shots that go with a series universe)

[ac3id]

Hawk’s eye| 18+

pairings: hawks [keigo tamaki] x female! reader

summary: hawks is in his rut, desperate for some relief. his annoying secretary won’t stop irritating him so he decides to take his pent up frustrations on her.       ( •̀ ω •́ )✧

+

anonymous said:

hi!! so while the requests are still open, could you write some headcannons for Hawks x reader when he's in rut? maybe the reader is a bit clueless and doesn't even know he goes through stuff like that? dirty details are welcome 👀❤️

this was high-key inspired by @tainted-wine​‘s this fic. (i hope u like my take on it !! 💓) 

a/n: aaaa this took so much longer than i thought it would take 😭, also thanks @the-grimm-writer  for proof reading this! (´▽`ʃ♡ƪ) also this is porn w plot so if u just was to skip to da porn. skip to this ‘◌’ bhai 

ALSO THANKYOU FOR 900 FOLLOWERS LMAO WTF FOR REAL 😭

tagging: @lady-tokugawa-of-mikawa​, @koiibito​, @reinawritesbnha​, @shorkbrian​

warnings: noncon, hate fucking, one slap, she bites his dick at some point, scumbag hawks.

word count:  5862

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The sound of your phone buzzing on the side table with a loud, irritating noise jolts you awake. You roll around on the bed, your fingers reaching to turn the vibrating device off. Groaning, you sit up straight. The warm mattress under you threatens to lull you back to sleep but you shove the thought away instead choosing to stretch your arms over your head and yawn endlessly. You were tired, so goddamn tired. Rubbing your temples lazily you start thinking about the dreadful day you have ahead of yourself. You think about your boss: Hawks, the man who makes you hate your life and job. He has trapped you into a never-ending nightmare which starts the second you open your eyes till the moment you fall asleep and even then he still manages to haunt you in your dreams. 

Cleaning up after his messes, obeying his ever so pliantly. He has turned you into his little pet slave. He says that it’s your job as you are his assistant, his little helper there to make his job a little less hectic. You must listen to his needs and wants and to some degree, you do agree with him: it is your job, it’s what you signed up for after all but you can also sense him misusing his title when he is with you. He never listens to your suggestions which results in him calling you late after work hours to help with his problems knowing damn well you had already warned him beforehand. And, oh his flirty, suggestive comments which borderline sexual harassment. Hawks is a difficult man to work with and you often find yourself wondering how much calmer your life would be if you never worked for him but you do not have that luxury of leaving the job. It pays ridiculously well and you have bills to pay, your family to support. No, you cannot afford to lose this job. So you sit through his torment and hope for the best.

Seconds later after you have gathered your will to live you start scrolling through your phone, skimming through the morning news lazily. Your eyebrows furrow and eyes turn into angry slits as you glance upon a displeasing, astonishing article.

 ‘No. 2 Hero Hawks spotted partying with strippers–��

Your heart stops for a moment.

What the fuck was this? 

You hesitantly read through the article, your heartbeat increasing every second that your eyes focus on the led screen, reading the details of the damned article. Eyes widening as panic settles in your nerves, you realize the gravity of the situation you had found yourself under as Hawks’ manager. Hawks had been spotted partying with strippers in a nightclub with a bunch of celebrities. The crazy stalker who had managed to follow him succeeded in capturing exclusive pictures of Hawks dressed in an expensive suit, his hair styled to perfection dancing under the dim lights of the club with women in basically their underwear shamelessly grinding upon him. You honestly couldn’t have given a single fuck about what Hawks did in his free time but since he had managed to get a paparazzi to tail him and now that his career was at risk; it became your problem. Your first and foremost instinct was to call Hawks and ask him what the hell he was thinking. Not being careful enough, he had managed to taint his entire reputation. The people of Japan now probably viewed him as a reckless party animal rather than the No. 2 Hero! 

Before you could call him, your phone’s screen lights up illuminating a contact you dread. ‘Hero Commission’ it’s written in bold letters, your face drops. Your fingers shake, filled with anxiety as you accept the call. Inhaling and exhaling, you try to calm your nerves. If it is a call from the Commission, you know it’s bad. Bad. 

You pick up the phone and instantly regret it, “What were you doing?” an angry, masculine voice snarls through the screen. You open your mouth to answer but are not given a chance too. “How did you let him go to a strip club during patrol hours?” you bite your lip thinking of an acceptable excuse, “He had to go there for work! It’s a misunderstanding. He went down to the strip club undercover to meet up with a crook to get some intel– that’s what he told me. This is a misunderstanding, I–” your explanation was cut short as the person on the other end of the call deemed it enough. “Whatever it is, fix it and never let this happen again.” he sneers a warning before cutting the call. It wasn’t a complete lie, Hawks did tell you that he was investigating a case on his own and that he would be gaining information from shady people but you did not expect him to go to a strip club out of all places. The worst part: he never even told you in detail anything about this case neither did he notice the paparazzi tailing his back. You sigh in frustration, rubbing your forehead, you quickly ring up his number only for it be sent right to voicemail. You almost scream. Where the fuck was this bastard?

Managing Hawks was not a walk in the park. The hero commission had sent you down especially to be Hawks’ secretary. You had a reputation: you were known to be responsible, diligent, and punctual. You were one of their best, entrusted with the responsibility to manage Hawks and you did a good job but it was Hawks who just made the job so hard. 

Creating problems he could never solve by himself; on lucky days you would get a call from him at three in the morning, him begging you to come to help him. You want to say no, deny him any help. Let him suffer by himself but you cannot do that. If he screws up and you are not there to fix it. You lose your job, you can’t afford that. You give your 100%, you do but it’s Hawks. He has a problem with you, well, he has a problem with everyone in the commission but projects it mainly at you. He does not respect you. 

He chooses to ignore your decisions and suggestions, diminishing them with a cruel chuckle, “Look, I need you but just not now.” He would say with an apologetic smile, “just let me work at my own pace, I will call when I will need you. After all, I love seeing your cute face.” You would always have to force yourself from not slapping his smug face before he took off into the bright, blue sky.

The truth untold, it wasn’t his fault completely either. He was just so fast. It was hard for anyone to keep up with him and since he did his job right; bringing peace to the nation you could not deem him worthless. But it still was a bother at times like this when you were left completely in the dark while Hawks ruined his hard-earned reputation. 

You got into the building earlier that morning to wait for Hawks in his office, you needed to talk to him. This was not his first mishap. Not long ago, another article about him shamelessly flirting with a fan had been published. It had said the fan was visibly uncomfortable with him but Hawks didn’t seem to care, he kept presting. You had managed to cover it up as the two being close friends who were publicly joking around, there was no real harm done. It was a lie though, you had to pay the fan a large check to keep her mouth shut. She accepted the money and the story was lost and forgotten but you had no idea how you were going to cover this hell up.

The clock struck nine as the day began, people rushing into the building all tensed but there was no sign of Hawks. You tried calling him on his number but the call directed to voicemail yet again. You were growing impatient, did something happen to him? Sure Hawks fucked things over sometimes but he never disappeared like this. It got you genuinely worried. Something horrible could have happened to him. After all, he was on a case. 

You waited for another thirty minutes and there was yet no sign of him. His sidekicks came knocking on his office door only to be surprised to see you there instead of their boss. You told them to continue with their day and not worry about Hawks, he was just awfully late. Not a big deal, he will be here soon. Soon. 

Another hour passed by, no sign of Hawks and about now your phone was blowing up with angry calls from his sponsors and business partners, screaming at the top of their lungs frowning upon the scandal. Heck, even Endeavor called you after he couldn’t reach Hawks himself. The call made you nervous as anxiety crept in yet again. Hawks wasn’t answering to Endeavour something bad must have happened. Getting tired of the wait, you make up your mind to drop by his penthouse and to go see him for yourself. His silence was driving you crazy and worried at the same time, you just hoped he would be there well and safe. You could not imagine the ruckus that would create if something were to happen to him. 

You walked out of his office after waiting for an hour. Rushing down to the basement you got into your car and before driving away to his house. Just before leaving, you decided to test your luck by calling him. Hoping, praying he would answer this time and luckily he did .

“Hawks!” you cried, a wave of relief washing over you, “Where are you? What are you doing?” you began pestering him with questions, not letting him answer even once. Hawks, tired of waiting,  interrupted your monologue of questions with a chuckle. “Aw, you’re worried about me, baby?” his tone was low and mischievous, the sentence slurring almost into a moan at the last word. You rolled your eyes and clenched your fists in irritation, you weren’t new to his teasing. Hawks thought it was appropriate for him to casually flirt with his secretary. Send unasked comments about your figure, perverted implications about what he would do to a ‘cute little thing like you’ which made you very uncomfortable being around him at times. But it wasn’t that what made him get on your last nerves. It was the fact that he could even think about joking at a time like this which made you furious. 

You screamed into the phone, giving him a piece of your mind. Degrading him for not taking care of himself, complaining about how he had managed to put you in such a tight spot. 

“Once again I am asking, where the fuck are you. Hawks?” you ended your speech with spite in your words. Hawks sighed, “I am in the office,” he says your name with an edge in his voice, instantly shutting you down, “Where the hell are you?” The smugness in his tone remains and you can tell he is smirking on the other side of the screen as if he’s won. You hang up abruptly before walking out of your car and into the building, hurriedly making your way towards Hawk’s office. 

You slam the door open glaring upon hawks as he sits behind his table. Dirty boots resting pliantly on the shiny, polished wood. His wings out, stretched to their fullest, filling up the room standing on high alert. They have a deeper hue to them, they look darker– a darker red. How did that happen? You find yourself wondering. Is he on drugs? His face is tilted upwards, facing the ceiling. Eyes screwed shut. They open as he hears you enter and walk towards him, his wings falling back behind him calm and collected. 

“You’re late,” he says with a smirk, you bang your fist on the table beside where his feet rest, making him flinch and bring them down instinctively. His eyes widened in shock, he was not expecting you to be this furious. Sure, he knew he knew he had gotten you mad but he was not expecting you to be this angry. Without any hesitation, you start scolding him again. He watches you ramble in ominous glee. A poker face masking his expression, he watches you trot about how much trouble he is in. His job is to protect meek and weak citizens who cannot fight for themselves, what he was doing in a strip in the name of business is something you cannot grasp your head around. You repeat your lecture which you had already tortured him over the phone while the entire time Hawks drums his fingers underneath the table, waiting for you to get over with your dumb speech. His eyes trail on your lips, watching it move. Plump, pillow-like features tinted dark red ramble on about how much of an irresponsible person he was. Complaining about how much trouble he puts you through daily. Honestly, he doesn’t quite catch what you were saying. His mind busy imaging you shutting the fuck and letting him get through the day– or better yet how pathetic you would look underneath him while he shoves his dick down your throat. The thought makes his cock throb. His eyes change from an unbothered, bored look to something sinister as they start trailing all over your body. His eyebrows slightly furrow as he catches up on the few degrading terms you throw at him. 

You talked too much. Way too much, do you realize how much better you would look if you keep your pretty, little mouth shut? The entire time, it’s always: Hawks don’t do this, Hawks don’t do that. Don’t you ever get tired? He wonders whether your dumb little brain had any thoughts other than the ones which tell you to irritate him all the time. You should shut up, really stop talking. He might do something bad, he’s already stressed enough as it is being in his rut and having no way to relieve himself, he is going through a rough time here. The other night he escaped to a strip club in hopes of relieving some stress and it had worked but it had also brought along a mind splitting scandal.

The entire morning, Hawks was busy avoiding people. Whether it be his fans, reporters, or even someone he knew; he paid no mind to them trying to get to the office as soon as possible to deal with the mess he had created.

It wasn’t his fault entirely, he was in his rut and needed sexual relief which he was finding very hard to receive. With his work piling up and you breathing down his neck, he couldn’t even take represents as they slowed him down. He couldn’t risk falling asleep on duty. A stupid, little headline about what he does in his free time was much more favorable than a failed mission in which he would let countless innocent lives slip by his fingers. 

He watches you ramble, his eyes trailing over your body locking on your tits. He stares at them intensely, watching them bounce slowly every time you huff out of irritation and frustration. Your work shirt works him favors, the white almost translucent material shows off the slightest shadow of your black, lacy bra. It’s enough to get him going- imaging how your soft mounds would feel in his hands. How you would whimper under his touch as he tugs and pulls on your perky nipples, you probably wouldn’t sound as monstrous as you do right now. Your moans would be girlish, small whimpers would leave your lips as you would try your best to cover them up. You would try to hide your face under his assault but he wouldn’t let you, pinning you down instead and forcing himself on you while you cried for him to stop. Beg for his mercy. 

He can feel his jeans tighten. 

“So please, Hawks. Just be a little more responsible.” you finish, your voice turning into a plea. He hums and apologizes for his impulsive thinking, like always, he is not sorry. “Let's fix this mess, what do you say?” he asks with an apologetic grin, trying to be polite. You on the other hand don’t even spare him a glance, walking right out the door instead. It leaves him very offended. 

◌

“Ah! What a troublesome day it was,” Hawks chimes in walking into his office with you closely following behind, “It was all your fault.” you spit making hawks chuckle, “Whatever happens, happens for the good.” he says, a scoff leaves your lips, “What was good about that?” you ask annoyed. “I get to have you alone with me now~” Hawks winks at you making you roll your eyes dramatically. Both of you stand together in Hawks’ office after hours. The day is done, everyone in the agency building has taken their leave excluding the two of you. It had been a long day fixing up after Hawks. You were tired and all you wanted was a warm bath and some sleep. 

“Do you want to know why it happened?” Hawks asks out of the blue, “What happened?” you question, “Why was I at the strip club?” you sigh, “I don’t give two shits about your personal life, Hawks.” replying sternly. A look of disappointment arises on his face, “It’s actually more than that, really, I u-uh have this condition- it gets very hard to work during these times-”

 “What are you even talking about?” You interject confused and clueless. You turn to him, a glare evident on your face you stare at him sheepishly. What was he on about now?

“I am serious, I went into my rut, and that's why I went to the strip club-” “Into a what?” Hawks’ eyes widened, were you really that clueless? “A rut, [y/n],” he says like it is a matter of fact, something everybody is aware of. “A rut. You know like how some animals go into heat and they-” your face scrunches as he explains his rut to you, you visibly grow more and more repulsed. Hawks studies you face, his heart genuinely breaking at your expressions. “Why are you telling me this?” you screech, “jeez Hawks, I did not need to know any of that!” you continue. 

Hawks is hurt, he accepted a reaction which showed more concern. Maybe he went a bit too far imagining that you would offer him help but seeing you so disgusted by him shattered his heart and made him lose all his respect for you. You were a terrible human being, no different from those villains he put behind the bars every day. “I am telling you all of this because- this actually happens!  Many- fuck- millions of people like me actually suffer from this shit! You should be a little more emphatic.” he reasons. He accepts you to understand at least now but you gloriously manage to disappoint him yet again. A rude snarl leaves your lips followed by a scoff, “What are you really trying to tell me Hawks? That you don’t want to do your job and to justify your laziness; you are making lame excuses now?” you shove a finger to his chest, it pushes him off the edge. 

Something in his snaps, he looks down where your fingertip touches his chest. You are smaller than him, he’s at least a foot bigger than you. Where does your bratty, puny self get all this confidence from? His eyes darken as something sinister floats within him. He stares down at your finger, wanting to rip it off. He wants to see you cry. He wants to see you in pain and misery, suffering a great deal while nobody comes to help you. 

“Hawks, you know what? I am so done with your bullshit. I am leaving.” You turn away from him, heading to the door but before you could move a step. Hawks grabs you by writs, caging your delicate hand into a bone-crushing death grip, “What the fuck?” you question, “Hawks?” you continue. You wait for his response, turning to him. He is facing the floor, his hair scanning over his eyes making it impossible for you to read his expression, not that you could read what was going on with him normally but now; it’s even harder. “Are you going to let go?” you ask again only to be met by him squeezing your wrists even tighter. You bring your other hand over him to pry yourself free from his clutches but he doesn’t want to let go. 

“Hawks wha-” you don’t get to complete your statement as Hawks pushes you down on the floor making you fall on your butt. You let out a loud hiss. You frown, yelling out “What is wrong with you!?” You try to stand back up but his hands settle on your shoulder pushing you back down. You try fighting but it’s to no use. Did you forget he is the no. 2 Pro- Hero? He is much stronger than you, he brings down villains twice his size daily. What makes you think your weak kicks and punches will be enough to beat him? 

You keep struggling under him, screaming how you were going to report him and ruin his career, how he is going to be sorry for messing with you.

 “Shut. Up.” he finally speaks, he brings his gloved hand to your perfectly styled hair. Pulling tightly on your roots he stretches your face upwards, making it easier for him to look down on you while you cry in agony, “Stop crying.'' His voice is deep and raspy, much different from how he usually talks. You look up at him, fear swimming in your eyes as tears prick at the corners of your sockets, lips trembling. If you already weren’t terrified enough, your horror becomes tenth fold when you see his boner raging in his pants, “Come, on. Hawks..” your voice is small and weak, it's a broken cry. You know what he is going to make you do. He was going to violate you, break you beyond repair. 

This was so wrong. As much you hated Hawks, you never would have thought he would do something like this. Hawks was a hero. He is meant to fight for justice, punish evil. Why is he doing this? “Hawks no. Please. Was it something I said? I take it back I didn’t mean it-” 

“You know, y/n, you are not so different from those villains yourself,” if looks could kill, you would be dead. The pure, anger, and hatred he looks at you with bothers you. It makes you hate yourself, there is something sinister in his eyes which makes you sure about the fact that he is not afraid of hurting you. He has given up on you, after all, his polite gestures, generosity you always ignored- he’s fed up with your sheer ignorance and your ego. He hates you. He does and heck if he wasn’t in his rut; he would never bring his dick anywhere near you. He does not respect you as a human and in no way does he have any romantical attachment to you. All he ever saw was a walking alarm clock, bugging him every second, and now all he is going to see you as is his cocksleeve whom he can stuff his fat cock into whenever and however he seems fine. To him you are just a walking hole he can ruin whenever he wants to, you have managed to get on his bad side and he is going to show you his bad side.

He undoes his belt, his pants falling to his thighs displaying his expensive boxers and his growing hardness. His cock is throbbing within its confines, fighting desperately to come free. His free hand pulls his boxers down and his cock springs free, hitting his abdomen. It stands long and hard, the tip blushed red and angry, tiniest bit of pre-cum spilling sweetly from his slit. He pumps his cock in his hand before forcing it against your mouth, pressing it to your lips smearing his pre all over your lips. You whimper in protest, moving your head the littlest you can under his tight grip. “Bitch open up. You had this coming for a long time,” his dick slaps your cheek while his fingers try to pry open your mouth. Pushing his gloved digits forcefully into your mouth, the rough fabric feels disgusting on your tongue. His fingers capture the lower part of your jaw, tearing your mouth apart with deranged strength. A loud cry escapes from you as he stuffs your empty mouth full of his cock, “Yeah, that’s more like it. Fuck.” he bottoms out into your throat, his shaft hitting the back of your throat making you gag, “get on with it. A slut like you would have the experience, right?” he taunts you. You do as he says, puckering your lips firmly around his length, your hands resting on his exposed thighs while you stroke him with your tongue. You feel his chiseled thigh muscles flex under your fingers as he melts in pleasure, tiny moans leaving his lips shamelessly. 

As Hawks drowns in overwhelming pleasure, a criminal idea crosses your mind. Your eyes trail up to his face. His eyes are screwed close, he bites his lower lip softly. Carefully and slowly, you graze your teeth over his cock. Clamping down on it lightly, you hold your position. Your heart beats faster when Hawks stiffens and in a quick flash, he pushes you off his cock throwing you into the ground before backing up, squealing in pain.

 “YOU LITTLE BITCH!” he screams, you sprint to the door. Trembling fingers try to unlock the doorknob while Hawks cries in agony behind you. You can feel him loom behind you, ready to come for your neck. A part of you tells you that you will not make it but the adrenaline rushing in your veins calls to be hopeful. Just open the door and just run. 

Your cold, quivering fingers almost unlock the heavy wooden door but before you can push it open. Hawks appears right behind you, pushing his body onto your back. You feel his cock poking at your ass, his hand grabs your head pulling you, prying you off the door. You scream and cry trying to break free, grabbing his hand clawing on it to let you free. Hawks chooses to show no mercy as he drags you by your hair to his desk, your scalp hurts from his grip. You can feel tiny strands breakaway. He turns you around and slams your back to his wooden desk, you whimper at the contact. He stands in front of you, pressing his knee between your thighs. His hand reaches out to pull at your collar, forcing you to look at him. 

He is livid, eyebrows furrowed with a death glare his jaw clenched, and his eyes darker than you have ever seen before. He looks at you with murderous intent, you think he might as well kill you with his wings flared open. The feathers turning into knives, you beg for your life. 

Hawks observes your face. Broken, scared for your life your eyes are glassy, ridden in fear your makeup smeared all over your face. He thinks it's beautiful, he has finally got you begging for mercy, finally thinking of him as the man he is. He appreciates your submission but it does not erase the fact that you just bite oh his dick. You beg for mercy, your voice is small and broken. It comes barely above a whisper, “I am so sorry hawks, please don’t do this.” He doesn’t listen, staring at you head-on with his jaw clenched. He brings his free hand to the air, keeping it steady for a second before bringing it down with a horrendous force. You feel it before it happens; white, hot flashing pain erupts through your cheek stinging you hard. You cry out in agony as your face drops to the other side. The strike was powerful, it left you sore, you can still feel it sting your face. It leaves you swollen, you try to bring your hand up to your face lightly to carcasses you paining cheek but Hawks pushes your face on the wooden desk before you could, trapping your arms behind your back holding it with one hand. “You don’t realize your position, do you? You know what? I was going- planning to be gentle with you. I thought I would at least make you cum but now,” he pulls a feather out his wings preceding to tear open your pencil skirt with the sharp end. The ripped fabric falls to the ground leaving you in your panties and the pantyhose you always wear under your skirts, “There we go. I hope you are a pain slut, otherwise you would really not enjoy this.” he says with a small chuckle before ripping you out of your bottoms, leaving you in your panties completely vulnerable to him. He abandons his gloves, rubbing his fingers on your clothed cunt roughly trying to gather slickness from your dry hole. Pleasure shoots down your body as his digits find your clit, rubbing tight circles on the little pearl, “Does this feel good? You are getting wet.” a smirk scars his face, “Who gets off to being raped?” he says sharply. Your face scrunches up in disgust and embarrassment. A heavy lump forms in your throat and the waterworks that you had been holding off burst open. Big, fat tears roll down your cheeks as you cry for mercy. You didn't know why this was happening to you, for your entire life you had been a nice person: always helpful, sensitive, and kind. At least, that was what you thought yourself to be. Never in a million years could you- or anyone, in fact, could have ever thought that you would be crying pathetically while your boss: a person known to all as a Hero, the truest, most honest person to exist ever would be the one defiling you, tearing you down to nothing just for his pleasure. 

“Shut up, you like this.” He snarls at you, so sick of your loud wails he even shoves two fingers inside your mouth plunging them to the back of her throat, “Don’t you dare bite now, slut.” he warns. His fingers stop prodding at your clit when he notices the wet spot forming on your panties, he wastes no time shimming them down to your ankles, whistling when he sees your glistening pussy. You only wail louder pleading him not proceed any further. Hawks turns a blind eye to all your begging, “I should just shove it in, right?” he asks petting his finger over your hole, “but that won’t be fun,” he snickers. You feel his move away from your cunt and move higher. Panic settles, he couldn't be serious, “Hawks. Please no. Please don’t. I don-” finger rims along your asshole, inching to dip in, “What? Don’t want me to fuck your ass?” he spanks your ass hard making you flinch, “Please I’ve never-” you cry out hoping he would understand, “No one’s ever fucked you in the ass before?” you whine at the lewd words which shamelessly fall from his lips, “Guess there’s a first for everything.” he says with a scoff. 

His digits bury into your hole, stretching you out in a way you’ve never felt before. The stretch burns, filling a fresh set of tears rolling down your eyes, smudging your mascara and eyeliner You looked like a whore. He keeps hammering his fingers inside you without mercy, a loud whine leaves your lips as you feel a tingle of pleasure from him hitting the right spot. “Do you like that? Too bad, this isn’t for you.” he moves his fingers from you before lining his fat cock to your almost too tiny hole, “How will this fit?” he laughs to himself, pressing his engorged tip in slowly, “Will be a tight fit,” he continues to shove his cock into your hole, his face turns off one to ecstasy as your walls take him inch by inch. You scream in pain, his cock was much bigger than his fingers. It was stretching you out, numbing your mind and soul, you did not know how much more you could take. Salty tears fell from your eyes as Hawks bottomed himself in you, he waited for a moment before starting to thrust into you unforgivingly. Dragging his fat cock out and your walls pulling him right back in. As he kept ramming into you. Slowly, you start to pleasure tingle up your spine as his tip smashed against the right spots. Your cries of pain turn to pleasurable moans. Hawks wastes no time in teasing you, “Look at you moaning like a slut,” he spanks your ass with swift force sending your rear to sting. You feel unbearable pleasure starting to build up in your abdomen, a straining coil wanting to burst which each of Hawks’ strong thrusts yet it is left unfilled as the simulation is not enough to make you cum from all alone. Hawks notices this, the pitiful crying for him to touch your swollen little clit which was begging to be played with. He almost thought he would give it to you, after all, he was a good person. Almost. 

Hawks just snicker, his cruel, sadistic laugh echoing in the room, “No, no, no.” he teases, “no matter how much you cry, baby. I am not letting you cum. This is your punishment, you deserve this. You’ve been a bad girl.” Hawks couldn’t formulate how he was able to form complete sentences. The moment he had caught you, he had let himself go feral. Dragging you down like a predator, he finally had you under him. He kept grunting and breathing profanity down your ear along with shameful praises about how well your slutty ass takes him. He is glad he is finally getting his much-deserved relief but he is not done yet. He won’t be done until he is filling your vulnerable womb with his seed, he won’t be done until he hears you asking him to give you his children. He is not going to leave you be until he has destroyed you, balls deep in your tiny pussy. He is going to keep you here all night fucking you, he is going to stay there all night fucking you with hate which he has buried within himself for you over the years. He is going to melt you in his hand, break you until only he can build you up, and maybe he will not let you go even after that. Maybe he will keep you after all hawks mate for life. 

Just hope he lets you cum the next time. 

[its-not-a-phase-mom-i-d8-demons]

The Brother’s Reaction to MC having a Nightmare

bAby

this gif... holy SHIT 

Lucifer

Whether you started the evening snuggled up under his chin or all alone in your room, he’s an extremely light sleeper since he’s got to keep an ear out for Mammon being stupid at 2 am

So when you start to move restlessly and/or whimper and cry, naturally he’ll awaken and see what the issue is

Lucifer will sit up and gently rest a tentative hand on your trembling shoulder, so as not to startle you

His presence only seemed to make it worse! Your tears got bigger and your cries got louder, your breathing became more uneven until you woke with a start, your own shrill scream scaring you into a frightened, crying ball in front of him

Boi is at a loss…

Was this his fault?

“MC, darling, what has gotten into you? Are you alright?”

“L-Lucifer?” You whimper, watery eyes roving aimlessly in the darkness “L-L-Lucifer?! Where are-”

Wrapping his arms around you and pulling you close, he reassures you: “I’m here, right here princess,” “I’ve got you, it was just a dream MC... nothing to worry about.”

Strokes your head, smoothing your rumpled hair and supporting your back while you hide your puffy, tearstained face in his collar and cling to him for dear life until you calm down

You’re still shaking when the usually stiff demon presses a kiss to the crown of your head and begins to rock from side to side, murmuring gentle, reassuring words in your ear

“Nothing can hurt you as long as you’re in my arms, MC.” “Deep breaths my love, deep breaths…”

Mammon’s vivid scary stories before bed had obviously been a bad decision, Lucifer decided as he dabbed your cheeks with a kleenex

his poor, sweet human having nightmares about silly campfire tales…

How endearing, yet upsetting

He’ll carry you to the kitchen bridal style and hold you close after getting you a glass of water, then carry you back to bed and tuck you safely against his broad chest for the rest of the night making a mental note to hang Mammon upside down from the banister the following morning

Mammon

He woke up from his dream about goldie who had read “∞” on the ATM and opened his door in answer to the frantic knock to find his favorite human crying

You rushed into his arms, burying your face in his chest to hide your shuddering sobs, nearly sending the now blushing Avatar of Greed off balance in your haste

“Jeez, human! Wha… What happened? Why’re ya crying like that?”

No, like seriously, plz stop crying babie or he’s gonna cry too

Returns the hug, holding MC firmly as he regains his footing and manages to shut the door behind you

“MC, sssh, I’m right here! You don’t hafta worry, ok? Luckily you’ve got the best demon on the job to make ya feel better! Hug me as hard as ya need, ok?”

*forehead and cheek smooches*

Lets you curl up in his lap until you can talk to him without stuttering or choking on tears

Holds you the whole time, almost as if he’s afraid to let go for fear you’ll cry again

“Bad dream? What was it about?”

“Th-Those characters from Levi’s horror game w-were eating you alive and I c-couldn’t move!” You whimper tearfully, “You were begging me for help a-and I couldn’t do anything to save you from them because every time I moved th-these ropes got t-tighter around my neck a-an-”

First of all, he’s horrified that Levi showed you those games when he knew they gave you nightmares. Unfortunately, you had to if you didn’t want to be called a normie for the billionth time that week

Second, he, the great Mammon, begging a mere human for help? Yeah right

Even though he knew in his heart of hearts that that would definitely be the case

“They’re not real, remember that. And if you still think those freaks are lurking in the dark, come find me and the great Mammon will protect you!”

You can't help but giggle and hug him more tightly, knocking him back onto his pillow

Neither of you felt like moving, so Mammon pulls the sheets up over your shoulders and you snuggle together until the morning comes

At the breakfast table, Mammon doesn’t hesitate to screech at Levi for giving you nightmares while cradling your tired, sleep-deprived body against him

Leviathan

Doesn’t hear MC’s knock at first, he’s too absorbed in the 14th episode of I Was Eating Avocado Salmon Sushi at a Hundred-Yen Revolving Sushi Restaurant When Suddenly I Was Thrown Back in Time a Thousand Years to the Heian Era, Where I Was Selected to Be a Personal Chef for a Princess and Was Later Chosen as a Possible Candidate to Be Her Husband… Now someone Please Tell Me How That’s Even Possible

As the knocking gets louder and more frantic, the otaku finally notices and pauses the anime, goes to the door and opens it a tiny bit

Just enough to see the teary-eyed MC, hugging their waist in discomfort, shivering in fear, and looking left and right down the hall for danger

“... Yeah?”

“L-Levi? C-Can I come in? *sniff* I just had a really scary dream-”

“I-uh… Ummm I g-guess,”

He lets you in and on a whim, places a tentative hand on your back

He expected you to push him away, but when you choked and rushed into his half-open arms and buried your face in his chest, leviachan.exe has stopped working

EXIT

What was he supposed to do with his hands?!?!??

MC was crying and he was just standing there like a normie? Wh… WhAt wOULd HenRy dO?

“MC, h-hey, it cant’ve been that bad… here, um let’s s-sit down a-and you can talk to me. Sound good?”

He feels you nod and leads you to his large gaming beanbag chair and you get squooshed against his side, shivering and sniveling, but warm and safe

Levi dries your face with the edge of his shirt and after a few moments of comfortable silence, you begin to explain your dream

The slimy creatures scaling the walls of the House of Lamentation with their slimy entrails dripping whitish goo in their wake. Eight spindly legs to each monster, sixteen sinister red eyes, and countless rows of gleaming fangs ready to take a chunk out of anyone who came too close

They managed to get into the house and they chased you and the brothers, but the otaku had tripped over a fallen suit of armor and a spider creature made its move before he could get away

At that point, you’d woken up absolutely terrified and rushed to see if Levi was ok

“But you’ve played horror games with me and we watched My Sister and I Found a Spider and Took It Home, Realizing Soon After it Was a Demon Who Eventually Escaped From the Glass Jar We Used for a House and Ate Our Toes, Transporting Us To Hell Where We Were F-”

“Yeah… I know… B-But it wasn’t that bad. I was reading one of the books Satan recommended. It was a really well-written horror story and it had very realistic pictures. I just can’t seem to get those gross monsters out of my head:(”

Your voice slowly trailed off and Levi realized what he had accomplished

You… You weren’t crying anymore!!

Also, you weren’t breathing really hard or shaking too much! Had… had this yucky otaku really calmed the human down?

*gasp* he was rubbing your back too!? And you hadn’t slapped his icky hands away?

You… you were ok with this? B-Being all snuggled up together on the beanbag chair?

“L-Levi, I-I’m ok now. I’ll leave you alone… I hope I didn’t wake you up…”

“N-No!”

“Something wrong?”

“No… I-um,” (he couldn’t let you get away now! This was perfect! He had you all to himself!! No WAY was he gonna screw this up!!) “You c-can stay a little longer if you’d like… I-I was in the middle of I Was Eating Avocado Salmon Sushi at a Hundred-Yen Revolving Sushi Restaurant When Suddenly I Was Thrown Back in Time a Thousand Years to the Heian Era, Where I Was Selected to Be a Personal Chef for a Princess and Was Later Chosen as a Possible Candidate to Be Her Husband… Now someone Please Tell Me How That’s Even Possible… Do you maybe want to stay and watch?”

“You don’t mind? I don’t want to intrude-”

“No! It’s fine!”

And so he fumbled with the remote and hit the play button, but couldn’t focus on a single word the protagonists were saying

You. Fell. Asleep.

On. Him.

Uh

“Maybe… Maybe MC doesn’t think I’m a… ‘yucky otaku’ after all… But don’t get your hopes up, Levi.”

Satan

He fell asleep in his chair, book resting on his chest when he heard a short, quick (almost frantic) string of taps on his door

Being a light sleeper (just like his papa), he immediately woke up to hear your voice on the other side of the door

“Satan? Are… Are you awake? *sniffle*”

It was you

What could you possibly want at this hour?

Upon opening the door, your body crashed into his own, but not before impulsively throwing your arms around his neck and breaking down on his shoulder

“M-MC? Are you alright?”

No, you weren’t

Judging by your stormy sobs and trembling figure, something must have shaken you up horribly for you to act like this

The sweet MC he knew usually kept their cool

He leads you to his big armchair and sits you down, careful to keep a firm hand on your back for support, both emotional and physical

Your eyes were wide and glassy, pupils darting to each corner of the room looking for monsters, bad demons, giant bugs, etc.

Finding none, you finally make shy eye contact with the blonde demon who has kept his arms close about you and dabbed your endless tears away until you were calm enough to speak

“MC, did you have a night terror or something?”

“*sniffle* M-hm. I-I’m sorry S-Satan, I was just so scared I c-couldn’t stay in my room all alone and you were the first person I thought of. So… I ran here. Did I wake you?”

“I fell asleep in my chair again MC. So I would have awakened during the night anyway,” He replied, “Plus, I don’t mind at all. I’m… I’m happy you came. What was your dream about?”

“It was really twisted… are you sure you want to know?”

“You’ll feel better when you talk about it and I’m always up for a story.” He smiled.

He sat back in his chair tentatively resting your head on his chest as you began describing the terrors from only minutes before

“Asmodeus and I, we watched some of those cringey teen romance movies this afternoon and somehow they morphed into a really scary dream. You and I, the rest of your brothers, the angels, Solomon, Diavolo, and even Barbatos were playing spin the bottle for some reason and I landed on you, but when I kissed you, you turned to dust! Th-Then when I landed on Mammon and Beel, the s-same thing happened again, but no one seemed to notice! Th-”

Noticing you were getting worked up again, Satan rubbed soothing circles into your back, hushing you gently and assuring you that everything was fine and ‘innocent’ kissing games weren’t actually deadly

Unless they were

But he didn’t mention that to you at that moment

Instead, he cradled you in his lap and read to you until your eyelids began to droop once more for some much-needed sleep

Being the good boy he is, he tucked you into his bed

BUT

Before he could walk back to his chair

“Satan, aren’t… aren’t you gonna lay with me?” You ask, tired, sweet voice ringing in his ears, “I-If you don’t mind that is. I mean it is your bed, after all, I didn’t mean t-”

He’s blushing up to his ears at your request, but nonetheless rolls onto the mattress next to you and you snuggle up close and fall asleep almost instantly

“As long as you’re here with me, you’ll be safe MC.”

Asmodeus

Why… Why was he up so early? What was that noise? Wait… Where were you?

He could’ve sworn he fell asleep with you in his arms

Sitting up groggily he looked around after rubbing the crust of sleep from his eyes

Something was moving and whimpering next to him, caught in a snare of fluffy blankets

The fearful cries of “Asmodeus! Oh, Asmo please don’t die! No, no, no, NO!!” broke the sweet demon’s heart

Your ragged breathing turned to a blood-curdling scream and you shot upright, but the blankets blocking your vision increased your tearful unease tenfold and you began struggling even harder against them

Taking action, Asmo tugged at the sheets, doing everything he could to help you

When your face emerged from the heap, you took a great gasp of air and immediately began sobbing your heart out

Asmo paused, knowing it unwise to approach someone who’d just escaped the clutches of a nightmare, but he couldn’t just sit there and stare at you!

Luckily, you chose that moment to look around

Your eyes met his amber ones in the semi-darkness and you tackled him, wrapping him in an impossibly tight hug

“A-ASMO!”

“Darling, wh-”

“Oh my god! I thought I killed you! I r-ruined your pretty face! You just sh-shriveled up a-and-”

“Sweetheart, hey~” He murmured, closing his arms around your back and cradling the back of your head in his hand, “Don’t cry anymore, Asmo’s here…”

His gentle comforting coos as he rocked from side to side brought your tears to a halt and soon you were able to look him in the face

Your glassy, frightened eyes had almost a look of reverence when you ever so slightly cupped your palm over his cheek, afraid he would crumble away at your caress once more

When he didn’t, you let out a shaky sigh of relief and visibly relaxed; shoving your face in his shoulder and wrapping your legs and arms around him so he couldn’t escape

It was quiet for a moment

Asmodeus settled his forearms around your waist and said

“Dearest, are you alright?”

“I… I don’t know.”  You fisted his shirt in your palms and looked at him, “That was a really vivid one.”

“Tell me what it was about!” He smiled sympathetically and stroked your cheek, “I have bad dreams sometimes too, MC. If you tell me yours I’ll tell you a few of mii-iiine!”

You couldn’t help but crack a small grin as his sweet tone and nod

“Yesterday Beel told me about the one time he touched Satan’s favorite plant. He’d seen Satan pet the stalk and petals before and he wanted to do it too. (Satan is a plant dad, fight me) But when he touched it, it shriveled up and died on the spot. I… I had a dream where I touched you and you shriveled up! I tried to help you, but every time I touched you, you screamed in pain! Then… Then you died in my arms and I woke up.”

:(

You clung to the demon as he moved, lost in thought. Settling back into the abundant pillows and tugging a sheet over your shoulders, he began to speak

“That sounds absolutely terrifying! What would you do without me?”

“Asmo…”

“I’m kidding, I’m kidding!” He nuzzled your cheek and hugged you tighter, “Why don’t we find a way to help you forget about it? I have a couple of suggestions… if you’d like to hear them~”

Beelzebub

He’d only been gone for a minute… or four… maybe five…? Right?

Why were you writhing around like that? You sounded like a lost little puppy and… were those tears?

“MC? Are you awake?”

No reply, just your continued whines of discontent and a steady stream of tears soaking the pillow

He dropped his snacks on the floor and carefully knelt on the edge of the mattress, putting a gentle hand on your forehead

Lucifer used to do that when he was sick, long ago when they still lived in the celestial realm. Maybe it would help you? Somehow? Hopefully?

The strangled sob that fell from your lips as you forced his hand away broke his big heart in two

Hold on, your eyes were closed! Wait, you were having a bad dream!

Throwing all caution to the wind (and not knowing the consequences of waking someone in this state) and began shaking you rather roughly, scaring you awake and making you bonk heads when you sat up too quickly

Now you were crying for more reasons than one

Your head hurt, two big scary hands had your shoulders in a tight grip, there was a large figure looming over you in the dark, your dream was still raging and replaying in your head, and it was really dark and uncomfortably warm

Even in the dim light, Beel witnessed the look of pure terror that crossed your face

You thought his heart was broken? Well it just fucking shattered

You were scared? Of him?

“MC, it’s just me! Don’t be afraid!”

He’d woken you up, but apparently he’d only made things worse…

Beel is vewy sowwy :(

Those lovely amethyst eyes…

“B… Beeley?”

“MC? I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you, I didn-”

You silence the ginger demon by throwing yourself into his arms in unparalleled relief, afraid you hadn’t really woken up and the shadow of your favorite brother was just MC’s Nightmare, Continued

Happy you’re in his arms, he squeezes back with all his might and burying his face in your shoulder

“I just had the worst nightmare Beel. I’m so happy you’re here…” You murmur, wiping your nose on your sleeve.

“Is your head ok?”

“M-hm.”

The pair of you sit in comfortable silence for a few moments, Beel offers you a tissue to dry your face, but you can’t seem to stop crying

“MC, maybe if you told me about it, you’d feel better!”

His sweet, honest smile made you melt

But the contents of your dream… You looked guiltily toward the bed on the other side of the room where you knew the Avatar of Sloth was sleeping peacefully

“You… You promise not to tell Belphie?”

“What do you mean?”

“W-Well I dreamt about that time… you know… when he killed me? He gave me a hug before bed like he always does a-and I love Belphie’s hugs but I can’t help but think about... that. I feel bad, it’s the same as holding a grudge! I’m sorry Beel.”

*insert pikachu face meme* = beel

“Why are you apologizing? It’s not your fault you had the dream.”

“I know… I feel bad though. Did I wake you up?” You ask, changing the subject.

“Nuh-uh. I was already up grabbing snacks.” He pointed to the untidy pile a few feet away. “Maybe some TSL and food will bring your smile back. Don’t worry about your dream MC, the secret is safe with me. Plus, you’re only human and I guess being killed would be really scary for you. I didn’t protect you that time, but if anyone ever tries to hurt you again, I’ll be there before you can say Burgers from Akuzon, ok?”

The smile lifts your lips before he finishes his sentence warms his heart and puts a happy smile on his own as you give him a final squeeze and whisper

“Thanks a lot, Beeley.”

Belphegor

It is said the Avatar of Sloth could sleep through anything, even the loudest storm and the echoes of 4th of July from the human world

But when the precious human cuddled up in his arms every night begins to move around and/or whimper in fear, Belphegor is awake in minutes only to find you squirming away from him and begging to some invisible entity “Just… Just d-don’t hurt them! I’m sorry, I’m so, so sorry, please don’t hurt me I-”

The seventh born is squeezing your hand and whispering encouragement in your ear, telling you you’re safe and that it’s just a dream

Slowly opening your eyes you look around, still terrified and jumpy from your vision, but the warm hand intertwined with yours and the comforting arm around your back, plus the familiar scents of the twins’ room slowly bring you back to reality

“MC?”

“Belphie? I-Is that you?”

“Who else would it be, dummy.”

You ignore the half hearted insult and bury your face in his chest, allowing your heart to reach a normal pace and his natural scent and warmth to wash over you

“Tell me about it. Sounded pretty scary.”

“I’m sorry for waking you up Belphie, I know how you hate losing sleep…”

“Just… Be quiet and tell me your dream!”

“S-Sorry… Um, so I didn’t know you too well yet and an angel came and took the precious grimoire, but me and Beel were caught up in it and there was this whole thing with Purgatory Hall and Luke and-”

“Your stories can put me right to bed you know that? Anyway, so what happened? Did Lucifer tear the angel’s head off?” He looked rather hopeful…

“Of course not! Lucifer was gonna make me choose who I wanted to save, either Beel or Luke and I didn’t want either of them to get hurt so I said ‘both’ and Lucifer got really mad and scary and in my dream he ended up hurting Luke and Beel and he would’ve gotten me if you hadn’t woken me up.”

“You’re welcome.”

“... *sigh* Thanks for listening Belphie.”

With a sigh of his own, he pulled you into his arms, resting his chin on your shoulder

“It was just a dream. You don’t have to be afraid, you know. I’m right here for you. Always.”

“Aww, than-”

“Forget I said that! Shut up and go to sleep!”

[lazysimp]

Hey hey hey it's bakugo x male bull reader. {PLOT} bakugo Is overprotective of his little bull cuz all the other animals aka bulls want reader. so every time he See's the other bulls messing with his bb🥺 he has to run up and scare them away which might end up reader being breed cuz they weren't giving him enough attention

Click Here for Fem reader

A/N: I have never written anything like this before so let me know what you think. These are the features I imagined Bakugou/reader has. I hope you don’t mind that I did this more as thirst than a full fic.

Warnings/tags: NONCON/DUBCON, bull boy (Idk how to tag that), animal hybrid fic, breeding, blowjobs, anal sex, male reader

When you had first stepped foot onto the soft grass you immediately attracted dozens of eyes but one pair stood out.

They belonged to a bull not any larger than the rest but his vivid red eyes gave away how dangerous he really was. You made a mental note to avoid him at all costs but it seemed he had a different idea

Everywhere you went those same red eyes followed you. You tried to lose him in the crowd but that only created a new problem, the other bulls.

Their harassment started off small, a few wolf whistles here and there, but soon it escalated into something darker, they tried to corner you whenever you were alone, using their size to block you in, you had no chance in hell of scaring them off.

Somehow every time they almost had you, they always would back off at the last second, their eyes wide with fear. You had always been too relieved to care why they left.

But one day as the sun set you decided to lay under a new tree, wanting some privacy from the prying eyes, unknowing that you were being followed. As you lay your head down on the soft grass a dark shadow covered you.

You crack your eyes open, not wanting to give away that you were awake but the figure above you knew better.

His large hands seal themselves around your heels pulling you towards his body. He rested on his knees, his cock already standing just from the sight of you.

For weeks he had worked to earn your trust, defending you from all the others, making sure you had plenty of food, the best places to sleep, and even protecting you from himself.

But watching you sleep under his tree, whether you knew it or not, was too much for him to handle, he needed to claim you and now.

Your sweet eyes looked up at him with fear, unsure what he was going to do, you had not meant to invade his space, you just wanted some time to yourself from the others but you had unknowingly waved a red flag looking so sweet and innocent under his tree, oh you were going to be his.

Not wasting any more time his head descended, taking you into his mouth. At first, you had tried to deny him, unsure what he really wanted, but as his tongue twirled around the head of your cock, you forgot why you were fighting.

Before you could reach your final peak his mouth stopped and he rose to his knees giving you the chance to stare at him. His fat cock stood straight up nearly touching his belly button. His stomach was covered in a fine layer of blonde hair and he had a thick tuft of hair just above the base of his cock.

You try to scramble away, your brain finally able to think again but he was faster, lifting you briefly into the air before setting you down, pushing your head down into the grass while forcing you to lift your hips.

“That's it,” he groans, finally able to catch a glimpse of your tight entrance. His cock ached at the thought of finally being able to fill you with his cum, filling you to the brim while you came around him.

Not wasting any more time he uses his thumbs to spread apart the cheeks of your ass, he let out a long stream of spit, wetting your tense hole. He admired as you squirmed around under him, your little tail waving frantically.

“Shh,” he cooed, stroking the soft skin of your back with his fingers, “I am going to make you feel so good, fuck you until your stomach is full of my cum.”

You wiggle even more, feeling the strange feeling from earlier return.

“That’s it,” he lines his cock up with your entrance and before you could draw in another breath he pushes forward. He ignored your pained cries and keeps going until he is fully seated. He feels bad causing you pain but he can no longer deny the need to breed you.

After giving you a minute to adjust to his intrusion he pulls back his hips, admiring how your hole flutters around his cock. Yes, he had never been more certain. You were his, and he was going to show all of them. The only way he will ever allow you to leave his side is with his cum dripping from your hole, showing all of them who you belong to.

Soon your cries grow into pathetic whimpers as his thick cock brushes past a wonderful spot inside you, sending small sparks of pleasure through you. You grab the grass under you, needing something to hold onto as he bred you.

Pleased to see you had finally accepted your place his hand reaches down, grabbing ahold of your cock he starts to stroke it in time with his thrusts. You had no hope in stopping the blinding pleasure crashing through you finally reached your peak.

Feeling you cum around him sent Bakugou over the edge. He leaned over, groaning in your ear as he released inside you, your clenching ass milking his cock for every drop of cum.

You both fall to the ground, still resting under the shade of the tree. "Mine,” he mumbles, "That sweet fuckin' ass is all mine," his lush lips press a gentle kiss to your forehead as he pulls you in close.

You snuggle in closer, already feeling his essence starting to drip out from your abused hole but you were too tired to care. Your life had just changed drastically and you wanted to freak out but as he tucked your head into his chest the only thought you had was how warm you felt.

[backtobackbakubabe]

Speak Easy Part 3

Bakugo x Reader

Words: 4892

Masterlist

Reader has a siren quirk and has spent the past several years of her life as a captive being experimented on by “heroes” Now that she’s out she needs protection and safe place to heal. Who will be the one to put her pieces back together?

Words with 'this' is dialogue written in her journal rather than said out loud and and words with ~this~ is dialogue said in sign language rather than out loud.

***********************************************************************

Dabi had laid you down gently in the back seat of his car, taking off his jacket to lay over you. You wanted to fall asleep you really did. But the consistent pain coming from your hip was enough to keep you awake, but not enough for you to pass out. You hugged the jacket around you that smelled like smoke and coffee.

You don’t know much time passed but eventually you were being pulled from the backseat. He picked you up bridal style and made his way to the house, “Look at you. We’re not even married, and you already have me carrying you over the threshold.”

When you didn’t react to his little joke he sighed, “Wow tough crowd, okay.”

He walked straight to the couch and put you down before immediately jogging to the kitchen to grab some first aid supplies… amongst other things.

He came back and sat on the table that was in front on the couch and maneuvered you so your injured hip was accessible to him. “Okay this is going to sting for a little bit, but I’m going to need you to stay still until I’m done.” Without any more warning then that he poured what smelled like vodka on the wound.

It stung like a bitch, causing you to dig your nails into the cushion of the couch and grit your teeth so hard you were surprised they didn’t crack.

He started to wipe it down with some kind of cloth. Cleaning all the dried blood and sweat from you. You were practically panting now trying to breathe through the sharp pain. “That’s it. Keep breathing. Good girl. I’m almost done.” He taped a bandage over it before pulling your hoodie back down. “There. Good as new.”

He helped you sit up a little so he could give you a glass of water, which you were incredibly thankful for. “Alright… so I have all the good stuff. Anything you could want really.” He pulled out several bottles of pills.

You didn’t know what was in those bottles, but you knew you didn’t want any. You’ve had enough drugged out days to last a lifetime. So as much as you knew it’d help with the pain, you didn’t want it. You just met Dabi less than twelve hours ago. You didn’t know what kind of bullshit he’d pull once you went under.

You shook your head no and pointed to the bottle of vodka. You may not want pills, but a shot wouldn’t kill you.

He chuckled, “Okay tough guy. Whatever you say.” He walked back to the kitchen and returned with two of the biggest shot glasses you had ever seen. “Let’s get this party started huh?” He poured two shots and handed one to you. “To life off the grid.”

You both threw your shots back. He with no reaction, you however immediately started coughing.

His hand rubbed a circle on your back, “Look at you. Took it like a champ. Didn’t even need a chaser.” He poured another shot for himself and brought it up to his lips but stopped when he saw you looking at him. “What? You didn’t think I’d give you more than one, did you? Oh no, no, no. With how tiny you are? Not to mention your tolerance has probably gone to shit. I think one is plenty for now.”

Well jokes on him. Just because you seem weak doesn’t mean you are. He’s not going to tell you how much you can and can’t drink. You scooted to the edge of the couch, wincing a little as you did. You scooped up the bottle of vodka and took a swig straight from the bottle.

You saw something flash behind his eyes, but he immediately hid it behind a playful smirk, “I don’t know if you’re a badass or a brat. Only time will tell. But I’ll have you know that in my house… My word is law. I’m just trying to help you after all.” He tore the bottle from your hands before securing the lid, giving it an extra hard squeeze to keep you from opening it again. “But because this is your first night here, and you’re hurt, and I really am a nice guy. I’ll let it slide this once…. So? You still want some ice cream?”

You nodded as you reached for your notebook but was alarmed when you couldn’t find it. You could already feel the light feeling of a buzz taking over, but you refused to let Dabi know he was right about your tolerance.

“What’s up? What are you looking for?” You made a gesture with your hands as if you were writing something down. “Ah, right. The handy dandy notebook. It’s probably in the car. I’ll go grab it.” He took a few steps away before coming back to grab the bottle of vodka, mumbling something about how he refuses to clean up your puke.

You took this time while he was away to get a better look at the place. It was very minimalistic. Lots of greys, whites, and blacks. The couch felt just as expensive as the giant tv on the wall looked. From what you could see of the kitchen, it looked nice. The shiny appliances were either kept impeccably clean, or never used. Was this his house? It hardly looked lived in.

“Alright got the notebook. How about you pick something to watch while I scoop some ice cream. What do you want? One for Vanilla, two for chocolate, three for cookies and cream.”

You held up three fingers. You were amazed at how well he was adjusting to communicating with you already. He had just accepted that you weren’t talking and went with it.

“Cookies and cream huh? I thought you’d be more of a fan of vanilla.” He chuckled. “The remot is on the side table next to you. The TV is rigged so you can basically watch whatever you want. Just type it into the search bar.”

You picked up the remote and quickly started scanning through channels. Your finger accidentally brushed the microphone button and you froze at the loud beeping noise that signaled it was listening.

Dabi had made his way over with two bowls both with cookies and cream. He saw the face you made at the remote before taking it from you and replacing it with a bowl of ice cream. “Hey none of that pouty shit. It’s not cute. This is temporary, you’ll be talking again in no time.”

He looked at the screen, “Okay one for anime, two for live action.” You held up one finger. “Okay, One for thriller, two for action, three for comedy. Four for romance.” You held up two fingers. “Oh, thank god I really thought you were going to pick romance. Okay I’m going to scroll through them, just tap my shoulder when you want me to stop.”

He scrolled for a while before you stopped him at Naruto. “Ah a classic. Good pick. Now get comfy. I have a feeling you’re gonna pass out before the first episode is even over.”

Sure enough, soon after finishing your bowl of ice cream you felt your eye lids drooping. A part of you was still nervous to fall asleep. But seeing as you just had a wild 24 hours… there was no way in hell you were fighting sleep for long.

“You ready for bed yet?” You sleepily nodded your head and started to slide down so you could lay down on the couch. “Oh no you don’t.” He scooped you up and headed down a hallway. He entered a rather large room with a bathroom attached and tossed you onto the bed causing the wound in your hip to throb. “Okay welcome to you room, this your bed, that is your bathroom. I will be right across the hall. I’d say yell if you need something but… well you know. So… try to not need me. Have a good night.”

You grabbed his wrist before he could get far, “What don’t tell me you’re like afraid of the dark or something.” He turned around to see your blushing face as you pointed to the bathroom and then to yourself. “Ooooooh, okay. Right. So, is this like a you need to pee situation? Or did you like… want to shower? Not that I’m against helping you take a shower…” He smirked at you.

You rolled your eyes and held up one finger. “Okay, okay, but you will eventually have to shower. But I guess we can figure that out tomorrow.” There was a wicked gleam in his eye that could only be compared to a child who was plotting on how to steal a cookie from the cookie jar.

He had been pretty patient while waiting for you to finish going to the bathroom, but he was still just as rough as he tossed you back onto the bed. “Alright, so, to reiterate, I’m right across the hall. Try to not need me. Good night.”

You sank into the bed the second the door closed behind him. You were alone. You were free and you were alone. Twenty-four hours ago, you had been strapped to a bed with shock collar on. You curled into a ball and cried. You wanted this to be the last time you felt sorry for yourself, so you wanted to get it all out now. Tomorrow was the first day of your new life and you didn’t plan on wasting a single second of it.

It didn’t take long for you to cry yourself to sleep considering how exhausted you were. What would have surprised you however was the fact that Dabi was sitting just outside the door listening to you muffled sobs, clenching his fists in rage.

It wasn’t until he heard you screaming that he realized he had fallen asleep there. On his feet in seconds he ran into your room. What he saw shook him a little bit. You had kicked all of the blankets off the bed. Soaked in sweat and tears. Your body was jerking around so hard it looked painful. You were having a nightmare, likely due to PTSD.

Shit what did he do? He’s no stranger to bad dreams, but he also knows he could make it worse if he doesn’t do this right. “Hey y/n. Y/N! I need you to wake up honey. It’s just a dream. You’re safe. Y/n. Y/N! Come on now follow my voice. Wake up for me yeah? You’re okay, I promise.” He reached out and as lightly as he possibly could touched your cheek.

You were burning up. He cursed as he tried to peel your soaked hoodie off of you. He started to shake your shoulder a little harder. But all that did was make you panic and thrash around. So he grabbed you and held you to him. “God Damnit Y/n. Wake up!”

He felt the tension leave your body only for a moment before you started to try and push him off of you.

He immediately dropped his arms and pushed away from you. “Hey you’re okay. It’s just me. Remember your hero pals saved you yesterday and now we’re roomies.” He could see the confusion in your eyes start to fade as you woke up. “Believe me I understand. I’d be scared too if I woke up in a weird place with my ugly mug lookin at you.”

He reached for your journal and tried to hand it to you. “You want to talk about it?”

You shook your head and hugged your knees to your chest. He nodded and put the journal back on the nightstand. “That’s okay. You don’t have to…” He wasn’t very good at this part. Talking about emotions and shit. “Yeah so uh… I can get you a different shirt.” He could see the goosebumps already raising on your arms. Now that the panic and adrenaline had subsided you were damp and cold. “And I can get a warm bath going if you want? He looked at the clock. It’s 5:30, which in ungodly early for me, but if you’re up I guess we can go ahead and start the day… How does that sound?”

You refused to look him in the eye and settled for a shrug of your shoulders, letting your knees drop from your chest. He could see straight through your tank top and was pleasantly surprised to find that under that baggie hoodie you had some nice tits.

He liked his lips and lucky for him, you were too busy avoiding eye contact that you didn’t even notice. “Alright well I tried being nice in giving you an option so now I’m telling you. You’re taking a bath.” He picked you up and walked towards the bathroom. “I’ll get the water going. Do you think you can manage making it from the toilet to the tub without me?”

Again, you shrugged which was quickly becoming one of his biggest pet peeves. He groaned, “One for yes, two for no. No more fucking shrugging.”

You nodded and held up one finger. “Alright, that wasn’t that hard was it?”

Without waiting for an answer he knew he wasn’t going to get he started the water and left you to it.

He went out to the car to grab the backpack the mini might kid had packed for you. Then into his room to grab you a clean shirt. He was going to leave the items outside the bathroom door until he heard a thump followed by a groan.

“Y/n? Did you fall down?” A very long pause later and you hit the side of the tub once. “Okay do you need help getting up?” Another long pause before you hit the side twice. “Are you sure?” He desperately wanted you to say no. Not to sound like a perv, but he’d love to get a quick peek at you.

Two hits on the tub sounded. “Okay, I’m coming in.” He opened the door almost too quickly. There you were sitting on the floor, back against the tub, completely naked. He had expected you to try and hide yourself from view, but was shocked when you practically reached for him, baring your entire chest for him to drink in.

He stopped for a moment before picking you up. “I’m not going to pick you up like I usually do. Instead I’m going to help you stand, and hold you while you try to get in yourself. We gotta start working on those legs.” You looked nervous but nodded anyways.

He hooked his hands under your armpits and pulled against him in standing position. His pinkies barley brushing the outside of your breasts and even that little bit drove him crazy. But he contained himself. The last thing he needed was you randomly activating your quirk and figuring out what a horn dog he is.

You weakly attempted to raise your right leg high enough to get into the tub. You were almost there, you almost had it. “That’s it, you’re doing so well. Just a little more, come on you can do it.” Whether you knew it or not, your ass was pushing back into Dabi’s crotch and he wasn’t going to make it much longer. So he lifted you a little higher making it easier for you to step in. “OKAY, I think one leg is good enough progress for now.” He sat the rest of you in gently before quickly turning away calling over his shoulder, “Alright, I’ll be back in… ten minutes to help you back out.”

You waited until he was gone to let a small giggle out. It honestly took you by surprise. It was the first time you had made a noise that wasn’t out of pain in a while. But just remembering the blush of his cheeks when you reached for him was enough to have you smile to yourself.

Before all of this happened to you were no stranger to being naked. In fact, you loved it. Maybe it was some weird side effect of your quirk. But you loved being naked, being intimate, having sex. To you there was no better bliss. You craved it. Your quirk allowed you all the control you could ever want, but there was something so intoxicating about giving that control over completely to someone else. To be praised, to be worshipped, to be adored.

Well at least that was the way you were before. Before you weren’t allowed to touch anyone, or look at them, or… speak to them. What if you were different now? What if being controlled for so long, being forced to do things against your will… what if it changed you?

The thought made you sad. You briefly considered testing the waters with Dabi, but quickly shook that from your head. And it wasn’t even the fact he was a villain, as much as you hate to admit it, you’d slept with villains before. But could you even consider him a villain anymore. You could see what Todoroki had meant by saying he was neither hero nor villain.

No, the biggest reason you needed to keep your hands off Dabi is because he was nice enough to take you in. You don’t need to jeopardize your safety just to curb your cravings.

You quickly scrubbed your body clean and did your best to wash your hair, but it was a nightmare. Your hair was crazy long now and the knots and tangles were just impossible to get through. You wined in frustration as your fingers yet again got stuck.

“You know I could always shave your head, I’m sure you could pull it off.” You stuck your tongue out at him as he handed you a brush. “Better watch who you’re sticking that tongue out at.” He hesitated, “Arms up, time to get out.”

You felt like a child, but you obeyed without protest. Earning you a “good girl” that sent shivers down your spine. “Hm? Do you like it when I praise you?”

You shrugged and avoided eye contact and you could feel the growl rip through is chest. “What did I say about fucking shrugging?”

You bit your lip and pulled yourself closer to him so he couldn’t see your blushing face.

Like a sack of potatoes, you were tossed onto to the bed. He tossed you a pair of clean underwear and one of his shirts that would easily come down to your knees. Once you were dressed, he roughly pulled you to the edge of the bed and sat between your legs.

Your heart rate spiked, and you let out an excited gasp. His hand smoothed up your thigh, “Relax, I’m just putting a new bandage on your hip. Don’t get so excited.” He examined the shallow wound and you winced. It took everything in him not to place a kiss right over your wound. He’d made that mark on you. It would definitely scar and as twisted as it sounded… he liked that.

He started to tape the new bandage down. One of his hands rubbed the inside of your thigh, while the other made sure the bandage was secure. God he just wanted to bite into the soft flesh in front of him. He took a deep breath to steady himself, but he was absolutely not prepared for… was you winding your fingers through his white locks.

“Y/n… what?” Your fingers tightened causing him to groan and let lose. He started to kiss the meaty part of your thigh, biting ever few kisses drawing sweet sounds from your lips that made him wonder what your voice sounded like. He made his way up to your hip and kissed right above the bandage before licking up from you belly button and up your sternum, pushing your shirt… well his shirt up as he went. He grabbed one of your tits in one hand while he sucked on the other nipple. Your hips bucked up as his hand traveled south. As soon as his hand started to sneak past your underwear something in you snapped.

You couldn’t do this. Not now. Something wasn’t right. You felt trapped under his body weight, you couldn’t breathe. Too much, you weren’t ready.

You pushed at his hand and whined until finally he got the message. He stopped and looked at your confused eyes, “Shit… I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have done that. I-I guess I misread that one.” He pulled your shirt back down and knelt in front on you on the bed. “I guess we should set some rules huh?”

Rules… rules… follow the rules.

You yanked your gaze down to stare at your hands that you had folded in your lap. Don’t look, don’t talk, don’t touch.

He reached for one of your hands, but you yanked it back shaking your head. “Hey look at me.” You continued to stare into your lap. He swore under his breath, “Please… look at me. I need to know what I did or said that freaked you out so bad. This is what I mean when I said we need rules-“ You flinched. “Oh is the word rules?”

You started to shrug before you remembered he wouldn’t like that. You lifted a shaky hand and picked up your journal and handed it to him open to the first page. You snuck a glance at his expression as he read over them. His face was expressionless as he read over your list of rules. “Hm… sounds kinky.”

He looked around for something to write with before coming to sit next to you, making sure to give you plenty of space. “Okay so how about instead we have laws?” You gave a quick shrug before nodding in agreement. He narrowed his eyes at you, “And law number one. No fucking shrugging.”

He handed the pen to you, “You’re turn. Write something down.” You gave him a questioning look, “Don’t worry about it, if I don’t like it, I’ll just draw a line through it. We’re brainstorming here.”

You wrote down “No drugs.” You heard him groan but he nodded anyways.

“Okay fine but then you have to make eye contact when talking to me. Doesn’t matter if it’s verbal or not.”

You went on like that for a while until you had a new set of “laws”

You had agreed to workouts in the pool to get your strength back up and he agreed to try and learn sign language with you.

The last law he added however was “I will not initiate the sexy time without written or verbal consent.”

You rolled your eyes and went to push him away but he dodged you easily enough. He quickly stood up throwing you over his shoulder. “Alright enough of that. We have a long day ahead of us.”

You helped him make breakfast while he explained that this house was one of many that he owned under different aliases. This one was the most secluded and had the best security system.

You were still picking at your pancakes when he sat next to you at the kitchen island bringing a laptop with him. “I’m not helping you down from here until you eat every last bite. Law number 7- Eat three full meals a day. Need to put some meet on those bones.”

He pulled up a website that had a video queued up that said introduction to sign language. “Okay before we get going 1 for tea, 2 for coffee.”

Your eyes lit up as you held up 2 fingers and scurried to grab your journal. ‘Can you put some milk in it?’ It had been so long since you had coffee and the thought had you bouncing with excitement.

He read it and gave you a thumbs up. “Go ahead and start the video, I’m just over here.”

And that’s how you set into your routine. Every day you’d sleep in until you decided to get up. Eat a big breakfast. Work on sign language. Eat Lunch. Do some kind of workout in the pool. Relax and watch TV. Eat dinner. Take a bath. Go to bed.

You did this every day for the past two weeks and you could already tell a difference. You and Dabi had learned a few basics in sign. Only a few words, but it was a start. But Dabi’s favorite part was helping you walk.

Not that he didn’t like carrying you, but this was just as much fun. He’d hold you under the armpits from behind and he’d let you stand on his feet like a child. You still couldn’t walk on your own, but you were so close. Every day you felt stronger and you knew it was only a matter of time.

Today marks sixteen days that you had been here. You watched as Dabi cleaned up the rest of breakfast. You frowned as you thought about how much he did for you and how little you gave in return. You hadn’t noticed him walk over to you until his hand was lifting your chin to look at him. “Pool time?”

You nodded and signed back ~Pool time~. You reached your arms up to be picked up and he easily complied, no worse than a trained dog.

“You’ve gained weight. I can tell.”

You looked horrified as you slapped his shoulder. ~rude~

He chuckled, “Hey don’t get all huffy about it. It’s a good thing. You were way too skinny before. You looked like a strong breeze would blow you over and break all of your bones.” He stopped at the edge of the pool giving you a wicked look. “Now you’re starting to look healthy again. Healthy enough for me to do this and not feel bad about it.”

He tossed you into the pool, clothes and all. You sputtered to the surface but didn’t have to struggle long before he was behind you leading you to the shallow end. “You’re fine. Almost there, don’t be so dramatic.”

He led you to the wall you usually hold on to for your exercises and let you go. You growled as you flipped him off. Idiot doesn’t need to know sign language to understand that one.

You pulled your wet shirt off and tossed it over to one of the lounge chairs. Leaving you in just a bra and underwear, which is how you normally did these exercises. Dabi had requested the heroes send a bathing suit in the next care package, but it hadn’t arrived yet.

He reached around your middle section and pulled you away from the wall after you had done a couple sets of squats and leg kicks. “Okay now lets see how you do without the wall.” He turned you around to face him and slowly backed away only holding your elbows now. “Okay now lets take a lap around the shallow end shall we?”

At first your steps were more like tiny shuffles. “It’s gonna take us all damn day if you don’t start taking bigger steps. Come on you can do it. Pick those feet up!”

You gave him a harsh glare. He knew you couldn’t fight back right now because your hands were too busy gripping his arms for support.

You started taking larger steps and then larger ones and then eventually you had made it almost all the way around. Dabi stepped back and completely. “Okay just a few more steps. I think you can do them on you own. Come on baby girl. Just a few steps. You can do it.”

You nodded enthusiastically, of course you could. It was just a few steps. You could do this. You reached your hands out to the side and took your first step by yourself. Your eyes lit up at the feeling. Sure, it was only in the pool, but that was progress! “That’s it! Good girl, keep going!” You reached for him as you took another step, followed by another and another and then suddenly he was picking you up. “Hell yeah! Atta girl! Good job. I think that earned you some kind of reward.” He gave the top of your head a quick kiss as he started to carry you out of the pool.

Your head was singing with his praises, and your body was buzzing with adrenaline after crossing such a huge milestone. He carried you to his room where he pulled out another shirt for you to wear. “Okay so about that rewar-“

He was interrupted by the sound of the doorbell. His eyes went dark. No one was supposed to know where this place was. He quickly picked you up and sprinted to the office. There was a secret false wall panel that led to a saferoom. He had told you of its existence in case he ever needed to hide you, but you hadn’t actually seen it. He was in the process of opening up the wall when a familiar flash of blonde hair showed on the security monitor. You pinched his shoulder and pointed.

He looked at what you were pointing at and groaned. “What the fuck is he doing here?”

***************************

tags: @falling4fandoms @wifunozomi @here-in-never-land @whore-for-anime @klecksstorys @aurorahoneybuns @theunknownrandom @insane-without-delirium @frenchsfryys @officiallydarkgeek @neofixcs

[bubbleteaimagines]

AMERICA’S GOLDEN TOY

summary || steve makes good use of you after kidnapping you from a hydra base

pairings || dark!steve rogers x reader

warnings || this post contains dark content (noncon) smut, swearing, dracaphilia kink, loss of virginity, non-consensual filming

notes || continuation of this imagine

MINORS DNI // 18+

you heard the sirens before anything else. they blared all over the facility, distracting you from your work and causing you to drop your graduated cylinder.

“shit!” you cursed in german and quickly began to gather yourself.

you knew what the sirens meant — your father had forced you to participate in every emergency briefing there was. he was a high level member of hydra and quite proud that you, his daughter, were following in his footsteps.

at only twenty years old, you were already a renowned scientist. often, you created remedies and such for hydra to use on their victims. you helped caused terror and chaos, but of course, you didn’t see it that way.

you quickly began to gather all of your important files as the sirens got louder. your whole lab was flashing red, causing your vision to be skewed.

you stumbled around in the red light, your heels not making it any better. you grabbed hard drives and anything else you could think of before quickly bursting out of the door, joining the chaos in the hallways.

all around you, hydra personnel was being scattered about, some running and others fleeing towards the fight. you didn’t even know what the threat was, but if it was enough to activate the emergency sirens then it had to be deadly.

“y/n!” in the midst of your running, someone called your name and pulled you to them. you yelped, but quickly calmed down once you saw that it was your father.

“papa,” you looked at him, shocked. “what’s going on? where is all this chaos coming from?”

“the avengers,” the answer made your blood run cold, “they are here. they have found us. we must get out, quickly!”

he wasted no time in pulling you towards the safety exit, one that only the most important memebers knew about. you stumbled as you struggled to keep up, your hands tightly clutching your precious research.

somewhere along the way though, you had accidentally dropped one of your drives. you let go of your father’s hand for one second to retrieve it, but that turned out to be the biggest mistake of your life.

a flash of blue in the red light could be seen as you bent over to grab it quickly. but you weren’t fast enough, and by the time you had come back up and started running again, it was too late.

steve rogers caught you easily as your father yelled behind him for you. his armor cladded suit pressed against your frame and you struggled against the muscular man.

“y/n!” your father panicked, wondering if he should run or help you.

“papa! go, please! it is too late for me,” you cried as you struggled in steve’s arms. “go!”

your father looked hesitant, but a nod from you urged him to keep running. that left you, helpless as the avenger glared at you fiercely.

“tony, nat, i’ve captured a prisoner. her father managed to escape but i think you can still catch him,” he spoke into a device.

“roger that, cap,” the voice of an unknown man came back.

you glared at him as you thrashed in his arms.

“there are no prisoners with hydra!” you yelled out, releasing the poison hidden behind your teeth and preparing to swallow it.

however, before you could steve already had an antidote shoved down your throat, knowing that this was common with those captured.

“you’re not dying today,” he snapped at you, as the concoction also knocked you out cold. “not before we make some use of you.”

-

when you woke up, you were in a moderately decorative room.

it was furnished with a dresser, a nightstand with a lamp, a tv, and a king sized bed that you were currently laying on.

as soon as you came to, you tried to hop off the bed and escape. but you were wildly unsuccessful, seeing as your hands and feet were tied and you were gagged.

“help!” you still tried to call out for someone, through your sounds were muffled. “somebody please, help me!”

there was shuffling out in the hallway and you paused, foolishly thinking it was your father or another hydra member coming to save you.

but quickly, you realized that wasn’t the case when the same man that kidnapped you walked in.

“well well, i see you’re awake,” his deep voice filled the room as he sauntered in.

you glared at him.

“let me go!” you yelled through the gag, trashing even though your movements were limited.

“what was that? sorry i can’t hear you,” he smirked. your hatred for him increased even more as he mocked you.

“asshole!” you cursed in german. “let me go, now! before i kill you!”

steve seemed to get tired of your muffled screaming so he finally removed the gag. when he did, the first thing you did was spit on him.

“filthy scum! how dare you tie me up like an animal!” you yelled.

you were met with a harsh glare and slap so hard that it knocked the breath out of you. steve fumed as he wiped the spit away, rasing his hand threateningly.

“do it again and i swear to god...” he trailed off.

“what do you want from me!” you resisted the urge to cry as your face stung from the violent blow.

“information,” steve said almost immediately, as if it were obvious. “we decided not to throw in you in a cell because you could be useful to us. tony figured you’d open up more in a more...comfortable setting.”

“go to hell,” you immediately spit, causing steve to raise an eyebrow. “i’ll never tell you anything. i’d rather die!”

“well then it’s a good thing you were already carrying these,” steve said coolly, holding up an object.

you gasped when you noticed it was your drives. the very ones you risked capture for.

“give those back!” you cried, struggling even harder. “those belong to hydra! those belong to me!”

“not any more,” steve said. “everything in that base now belongs to the avengers. including you.”

you didn’t like the way his eyes sized you up. it made you uncomfortable, scared even but you weren’t about to show it.

“you can keep me here until i starve. i won’t give you any more information,” you said.

“oh we know. we’ve been known that everyone in hydra has tight lips,” steve chuckled. “but you see, we started to figure out why. and do you wanna know what we came up with?”

you said nothing.

steve continued anyways. “see we figured it was because hydra never had anything to lose. their files are encrypted. everyone is willing to die for that scum organization. we the avengers have never had a way to gain leverage over them. but after we took you...we realized that now we do.”

“what do you mean?” you asked dumbly, though you feared the answer.

steve answered by stalking towards you. slowly, you began to try and back away as his face came down to yours, his voice dark and dangerously low.

“it means, it wasn’t an accident i took you over you father. i could have captured you both. but i let him go free, just so he and the rest of the scum can witness this. you, tied up in captain america’s bedroom, helpless,” he smirked.

“no!” you exclaimed, horror seeping through your veins.

“say hi to daddy and his colleagues,” steve chuckled, pointing towards the tv.

you didn’t know how you missed it, but on the dresser stood a camera, and on the tv itself showed live footage.

of you, handcuffed on steve’s bed.

“oh, i can’t say i won’t enjoy finishing this mission,” he shook his head. “it’s the first damn time i’m getting something in return.”

“get away from me!” you screamed at him as he undid your cuffs, yanking you closer to him.

the delightment of being free was replaced by utter panic at the pending situation. you tried your best to get up, springing off the bed but steve only pushed you down, laughing.

“did you forget who you were dealing with?” steve asked. “everything is this room will prevent you from escaping. the doors won’t open without a code. there’s no windows. and of course, you’d have to get passed me. but i’m not letting you leave until i get what i want.”

“you monster!” you punched his chest as he gripped you harshly, dragging you to the edge of the bed.

but your assault seemed to do nothing against the super soldier, merely egging him on as he reached for your clothing.

“nothing but a skirt and a blouse. not even pantyhose,” he tsked. “you must have been prepared for me, then.”

tears of humiliation began to form as he grabbed your skirt and shirt and tore them off. the black bra and lacy red panties that you were wearing were durely exposed to the camera, where your father and all your coworkers were watching.

“can you feel it now?” steve asked, dodging your blows and pinning you down with his arms. “the sheer panic creeping in your veins? the knowledge that there’s only one way out of this, and that’s by me taking control of that little pussy of yours?”

your eyes widened as he voiced his plans out loud, the reality of situation finally sinking in.

“no please!” all your life you had been taught not to beg. you had been taught to never give into the enemy, to always choose silence and death over the weakness of pleading. but this was steve rogers you were talking about. you thought he was one of the good guys. you thought he was america’s golden boy. “don’t!”

“what’s this, a little hydra slut begging for her life?” you cried out as steve ripped the bra off, too, leaving you completely exposed. “that’s definitely new. but i gotta say, begging wont get you anywhere now. it’s too late, i’m gonna make use of america’s golden toy now.”

“i thought you were a good guy! the avengers are supposed to be the good ones! you’re not supposed to do this!” you said while steve began to shed his clothes.

“good?” he chuckled as he stood over you. “that’s funny. i guess it just depends on the perspective.”

you stared at each other as he began to free his cock. it was impressive really, how he managed to get both of you naked all while holding you down.

you had never felt more powerless in your life. you were a scientist after all. you were smart and brilliant and on top of the world at hydra. but here though...

here you felt like nothing more than a simple speck of dust.

“open up, slut,” steve suddenly shoved his cock in your face as you jumped back, startled. “let’s show daddy how well your mouth works.”

“no!” you refused to open your mouth for him, you refused to even look at him, turning your head to face the wall.

but steve was quick to a solution; he grabbed your jaw and forced your lips open, backhanding you to get you to comply.

“i’m not gonna ask you again,” he said lowly while you sobbed. “open up.”

shakily, you obeyed. you opened your lips and slowly steve began to push his cock in, moaning at the feeling of your tight lips wrapped around him.

“ah, fuck,” he grabbed a hand full of hair to steady himself while you stood still. “go on, don’t be afraid. suck my cock like the little whore you are.”

you would have rather chosen death than blow steve rogers but that wasn’t an option. what was though, was moving your head back and forth, trying to take his impossibly thick length in your mouth.

“there’s a good girl,” he cooed as your head bobbed. “take me. take all of it!”

you resisted the urge to gag as he shoved himself in the back of your throat. gripping his hips, you sobbed on his dick, tears falling down your face as he throat fucked you.

“that’s it...nice and deep,” steve moaned. “god, i can’t wait to see what your pussy feels like.”

he was cumming in no time, the combination of you sucking and playing with his balls sending him over the edge.

he panted as he pulled out, his hot seed trickling down your throat. you gagged immediately as he released you, feeling absolutely and utterly disgusted with yourself.

“you see that, dad?” steve smirked at the camera. “your little girl just drained my balls dry. and she’s about to do it again. watch.”

you cried out as steve roughly pulled you up and flipped you on the bed. you tried one last time to escape, crawling on your knees away from him but it was all too easy for him to pull you back down.

“a fair warning to all hydra personnel, this is what happens if you mess with shield,” he growled.

you were a blubbering mess as he forced your legs open, pleading and begging for your release. you didn’t wanna be taken, not like this. you didn’t wanna lose your virginity to this man.

“you can’t save her now,” steve looked directly into camera, “but maybe when i’m through with her you’ll learn your lesson.”

he positioned his thick cock, lubricated with your spit, at your entrance. and then, before you could even comprehend what was happening, he slammed into you.

a scream bubbled up in your throat and ripped out as your pussy was violently desecrated.

steve filled you nearly to the brink, moaning and whimper at the tight fit.

pain exploded all over your body. your pussy felt like it was on fire. you tried to claw your way away but steve held you tightly in his arms, disabling you to move.

you were trapped, tears falling down wildly as steve began to fuck you balls deep.

“so tight,” he moaned while you let out a gutteted sob. “so fucking good to me. you’re squeezing me baby. you’ve must have never taken a cock a before, have you?”

“no!” you screamed out as steve pounded into you at a jarring pace. “p-please! please!”

“virgin,” steve realized, knowing why you were so scared. “god that’s so hot.”

“please...please! captain stop!” you begged, not being able to take it anymore. you couldn’t take him. your pussy wouldn’t even let him get all the way in. you were straining so much, but yet he fought. he fought so hard to make sure all but his balls were inside of you.

“well, since you asked so nicely,” steve smirked.

he flipped you over again but before you could cherish the release he was slamming into your pussy again, this time forcing on you top of him with your back laid against his chest.

steve cooed in your ear as you took his merciless pounding, reminding you of what a filthy whore you were.

you wanted this, he told you. this was your fault. you wanted his cock deep inside of you. wanted people to watch. you wanted people to know how much of a slut you were.

“tell them!” steve shouted, his balls slapping your pussy. you sobbed for his mercy. “tell them how much of a whore you are! tell your daddy how much you love captain america! tell him!”

“papa,” you blubbered towards the screen. you saw yourself, looking pathetic while you sat on captain america’s cock. he filled you to the brink, your stomach pretruding out to show just how deep he was. “i love him! i love captain america!”

“atta girl,” steve kissed your neck, his beard scraping your shoulder as he buried his face in your neck. he held you tight, the sound of him battering your little pussy echoing throughout the room.

finally, he turned your head towards him and kissed you. one last humiliating act before he finally came, shuttering to a stop as he drained his balls directly into your womb.

“how’s that for a mission accomplished,” steve laughed while you slumped against him, clinging to him for dear life. your pussy was battered, filled to the brink his cum. your mind was gone.

you could hardly think. you searched for a sense of safety. for a sense of warmth. you cuddled yourself closely to him, taking shelter in the arms of your abuser.

“please...please...” you sobbed against him.

steve held you tight in his arms, kissing your temple. he knew he had broken you. he knew that you were beyond recovering now.

“it’s okay,” he whispered, still buried deep inside of you. “you’re with the earth’s mightiest heroes now. you’re safe. nothing’s ever gonna hurt you again.”

[bvccy]

Friend, if you are still open for request, can you please do Heliotrope with the Winter Soldier? 🥺 please thank you 💛💛💛

My dear 😭 I am so so sorry for how long this took! I just hope you can enjoy the fic. It’s a little bit spooky at the beginning, but WS is soft and so is our reader. And they get their happy-ever-after 💗

Thank you very much for this prompt also! 🌺🌺🌺

— PAIRING: soft!Winter Soldier x female!Reader — PROMPT: Heliotrope - walking in the sun, and losing each other — LINKS: Masterlist • love stones prompt list — WORDCOUNT: 2.1k

They had been living in darkness for months, and the oppressive cold that battered against the walls with fierce winds all day, and hungry howls at night — not that one could tell night from day in the sunless vastness, except by the ticking of the clock.

Hydra had installed that arctic facility at the mouth of a crater, covered by ice over the ages to conceal its dubious treasure. It was clear to the Soldier that the treasure was not made up of precious things, but it was only when the crew finished digging all the way down that he understood why all the scientists were there...

It was difficult for him to tell who the shuttle belonged to. It might have been some advanced technology from America, but then how did it get so deep down, so quickly? Maybe it was an old German prototype from the war, but it didn't look like any he'd seen before. Or maybe Hydra was just recovering their old property from past attempts... It didn't matter, he was just there to guard the scientists while they did the work.

The other soldiers stationed with him stopped taking the job seriously after the first three months, but he kept watch, and paid attention, and didn't miss the odd slimes that seeped across the floor out of those metal shells, nor the odd crunch as the scientists cut into something that looked soft and milky, but held like bone. And the smells, the cold metallic smells like iron dipped in silver... It sometimes felt like home, but he knew better than to let that grip him. And he kept watch.

The one chemist that doubled as the chef didn't make particularly good meals, but they were hearty, and if he was being honest, he was eating better at this isolated station than he did at the Base — felt freer too, almost in charge of his destiny, if one didn't count the frozen wastes he'd have to survive if he ever wanted to run. But the Soldier couldn't imagine why he'd ever wish to run.

Especially when she was here.

Studying the files of all the scientists on the mission, her portrait stood out as particularly sad, morose, with a bit of a death glare toward the cameraman. But when he actually saw her, she seemed sweet like a spring day and even happy to be there. She looked up into his eyes as she walked into the protected area to study their find, blinking up from beneath a mess of furs and protective equipment, but there was a smile crinkling around her gaze. As the months drew on and everyone got more bored with staying there, and loose with themselves, they'd sometimes play some music in the lab, and the Soldier didn't know why he liked it so much or felt the need to dance with someone.

The military staff initially had their own mess hall, a small room with a kitchenette where they could eat together, but then one of the doctors needed it to test the effects of temperature changes on some of the samples, and the place was... contaminated every since. Now, they all ate together. The girl who'd caught his eye tended to eat with her own team, the Geologists, but he could feel her looking at him sometimes, he noticed her lingering when he was around even if she was about to leave, and a few times she even dared approach him — under the excuse of getting the jar of sugar that was on his other side rather than reaching for the one next to her, or leaning down to get some plate she didn't need from right by his knees. It wasn't until she tried to reach a glass above his head, beyond her grasp, that he gave in and acknowledged her.

"Thank you," she said as he handed her the cup — the first time she'd ever said anything to him. Her voice suited her, but beyond its soft tones the Soldier was struck by being thanked at all. When was the last time that happened? What did one say in response?

"You're welcome?"

And he seemed so unsure saying it that he made her giggle.

She was inevitable after that, not because she was trying to be found but because he allowed himself to be around her, to guard her door while she chipped at stones and studied them, to sit near her during lunch — not right beside her, the Soldier still had a lingering shyness about that, but at least on the table opposite, from which they could look at each other if they wanted.

The long night was almost over, four months into their stay at this forsaken place, and the pair had taken to something really dangerous: in the small barn attached to the base, where some dry supplies were kept along with canisters of fuel, they escaped together while everyone else slept. He had led her there first, asking timidly whether she'd...

"Want to see something new?"

"Always," the girl grinned.

And so they found themselves piled on top of one another like firewood, almost not feeling each other beneath the layers of fur that kept them warm, but just being in each other's presence was... something. It was quiet without being quiet, with another real soul there, thinking its own thoughts in harmony with you.

The Asset wouldn't allow himself to fall asleep, though he did close his eyes sometimes and let the girl relax against him, and doze off, and during those times he allowed his arm to come down from where it propped his head up and wrap itself around her, holding her still — as if she were in danger of falling off some imaginary bed.

Nobody ever seemed to wonder where they both disappeared to, nobody noticed, which was why he was all the more surprised to hear shouting on that day. The Soldier didn't move, just tightened his arm around his little partner more. But when a bloodcurdling cry echoed through the vastness, he shook her awake.

"Wha—"

"Get up. The base is under attack," he muttered, reaching for the rifle laid beside him.

"That's crazy, who would attack us all the way out here?"

He didn't want to tell her what he thought, but only made her hide out in the shed while he went out to scout the area. Turning his radio on, nothing came through. There were no helicopters around, no trucks, no marks in the snow that anyone had attacked — at least, not from the outside. On the horizon, just the rays of a reluctant dawn were shining.

There was silence for a while, and then another symphony of screams rang out, muffled by the walls and the desperate shots of whoever was left inside, glass and metal knocked over, broken, and silence once again. Stepping away slowly, then more hurriedly, the Soldier returned to where he'd left the girl and picked her up by the elbow.

"Come on, we're leaving."

"Leaving where?" she cried out, confused and even slightly angry. "What's going on?"

"We're under attack."

"But our research..."

The Soldier dragged her to where the trucks were parked, and after the first flush of confusion she went along quietly. He gave her the rifle to hold while he looked in the back, making sure they had enough supplies for whatever drive awaited them — gas was there, some blankets too, and more ammunition. It would have to do. And without sparing another moment, he got in beside her and drove off. Against the rumbling of the engine as it drifted on the ice, a shrill scream cut through the frozen air and reached them, not sounding human nor animal nor like anything in the world, except perhaps a demon. The girl didn't look back, she wouldn't dare, she just looked quietly at the Soldier as she slowly understood. They drove into the sunrise as its rays burned away everything behind, and the snowdrifts buried it.

They didn't stop until the sky was bright as a midday, many hours later.

"Are we slowing down?" the girl mumbled sleepily.

"We're nearing a town," he said, eyes on the GPS. "Need to check that the road is clear. And that we are, too."

She stretched the shivers from her bones, but deep down she trusted the Soldier to keep them safe.

Getting out in what-felt-like days, frozen stiff, muscles aching from the shot of fear that penetrated down to her bones, the girl got out and reached for the sky with all she had. The air felt freer and fresher than ever before, even though it still hurt her lungs when it reached to their very bottom, but she loved such a pain — it felt like life.

The Asset walked slowly to her, just watching silently and smiling a half-smile at the sight of her all ruffled and soft, and safe.

"What do you think happened to the base?"

"Guess it's a mess by now," he hummed, bringing one gloved hand to feel around her head, her shoulders, down her arms, but always gently.

"We woke that thing up, didn't we?"

"You're the smart one, you tell me."

Her lips pursed — she never liked it when he teased her, but she tried never to reproach him for it, loving this sign of his personality shining through. "Are we far enough away now?"

"I don't know," he sighed, finally looking back into her eyes. "Are we?"

"The sun would kill it."

"How do you know that?"

She didn't answer but wouldn't look away either, and her determined gaze was enough for him. She did know more than he did, she'd spent months studying whatever that was, and that was fine by him. So long as none of it had managed to sneak on board.

"Stay close to me."

They walked around the car together and he checked the back, the wheels, then climbed on top and checked there too. Through the clearness of the day, he could even see the edges of a road that must've lead to that town. The car seemed clean, but they were close enough to a rescue that he'd rather not take any risks, and so picking up just a few useful things and one backpack, they started walking.

The snow got less deep and crunched beneath their boots, the wind was gentler downhill and even moved through the tendrils loosened from their hoods, shaking off the frost. In the distance, one tree stood tall, thin and dark and barren but alive, and over all of them the sun kept shining.

"We're almost at the road," said the Soldier, spotting a black snaking line a few meters ahead. He turned his head when he didn't hear anything back, but there was only the glint of sunlight on the snow.

Amorphous fog covered the horizons, and hills and dales of white, and suddenly the light felt very hot and burned his body as he turned frantically around and called for her. With mad fear, he traced back their steps up the snowy hill, nearly swimming through it as he called for her, terrified of the unthinkable.

Then, as if from the sea, a lone hand reached up and waved at him. Within one breath, he'd reached her, sitting in the snow just a few feet away.

"I'm so tired..." she huffed, burrowing like a rabbit. "Can't we rest a while?"

"You didn't rest enough in the car? Get up," he grumbled, pulling her up to her feet. He regretted snapping as soon as he saw her sad little face, and sighed. "I'm sorry. I was worried."

"I'm sorry too, for being so weak..."

Before thinking, he pulled her in and kissed the snow off her mouth. "None of that," he smiled as their lips parted. "Come on, we're so close. I'll carry you a bit if you want."

The girl shook her head mutely, face already flushed from frost but now truly heated. To be cared for, and worried about, and searched like that, and kissed... It put the life right back into her.

He kept his word and carried her in his arms at one point, but they both walked in the town together. Nobody knew who they were or where they came from and some had a few murmured questions, but by the time Hydra sent an extraction team for them, it didn't matter — they were gone, lost in the wind like two rays of sunshine.

[void-adjacent-particles]

Content warnings: Death, gore, fire mentions, scars, murder, violence.

Totems of Undying are strange things. They’re warm, and will pulse in time to the heartbeat of whatever is holding them, emerald eyes glimmering even in the pure dark of the void’s absence of light. While Totems are made of gold, there is no malleability, they are as solid as bedrock. The emeralds and gold and magic have solidified into one unchangeable object until its use, and then it is gone.

They leave their mark on whatever uses them. For some this could be a prize, another thing to be proud of, because they survived the unsurvivable only through their own wits and forethought. To others it is a mark of shame, for ever having been in such a position to lose their life, even if it is only one of three.

On a specific server, there are those who have need for Totems in their long pasts, who have used them right before our eyes, and those who will surely use them in the future.

Technoblade was one such person to use one before our eyes. We saw him dragged from his home to a farce of a trial, facing justice on rigged scales for grievous cries nonetheless as he was pushed into a cage. The fall of the anvil, the crushing, crunching of a body that never seemed fragile until now when everyone witnessed its end. Then the sparkling cloud of green and yellow, bones clicking back in jigsaw puzzle pieces, the knitting of muscle and tendon and skin, and there is only a moment of paralyzing death before his heart skips a beat and he lives again. This is the prestige of his trick, no turn to raise suspense, and a pledge everyone who knew his name already was aware of, a promise and threat all in one that he always delivered on. Technoblade never dies, and he lives right now to kill again. Later he will be in his quaint cottage in the merciless tundra, and his own reflection will glitter strangely back at him, forcing him to examine himself instead of resting and trying to forget the lingering aches. He will stare as the night sky leaves the window more a mirror, lantern lights low, but the flashes catch his eyes anyway. His tusks, once white and bone, now seem to be fully made of gold. He taps one with his hoof, and feels the pressure reverberating subtly down into his jaws, as real as before. With a shrug, he moves his hoof away, only to watch as pink fur and skin split against the now razor sharp point of his tusks. Those tusks will remain as gilded as any enchanted apple, and as sharp as any netherite sword, until one day he will fail his audience, his pledge a battle cry he brings to one or more of his graves.

Quackity would covet a Totem in all of his paranoia, his fear of death and pain and losing even more than he already has. If he died, be it by pickaxe or nuke or strangling, desperate hands, the Totem would bring him back all the same. And all of his scars would ache in their newfound golden hue, shining and standing out even more as a testament to his inability to protect himself or what he loves. The scars would hurt, old and new, in warning of dangers to come. It only partly calms his paranoia, the fear ever present and simmering in the background of his mind, waiting to boil over and burn him.

When Tubbo or Tommy use their Totems of Undying they will appear unharmed. It is not until they bruise that it becomes obvious. A small bump against the corner of furniture, a tumble while out exploring the wild, a sharp elbow to the face, the blunt side of a weapon, they bruise the skin, blossoming into purples and dark indigos. They fade far too quickly, as if someone splashed healing potions on them. Yet then they stay at that disquieting green and yellow stage, where the next day it could appear as if they were never there, but they stay, shimmering slightly in the wrong lighting, still hurting as much as if they were fresh even weeks later. Only fading when forgotten about, and they have wonder if the bruise was ever there. If only they had Totems when they died before. Tubbo’s face would be a mess of bruised gold that would seep into the skin until only pink scar tissue remained, a starburst remnant of a festival’s fireworks, but he would still be alive, gasping for air and hunched over in that box, on that stage, but alive. Tommy would have handprint bruises around his neck, across the break in his nose, the imprint of a fist against his cheek that had whipped his head back too far, his neck slamming at the worst angle against the harsh obsidian walls. But he would have been alive, clawing his way back into life, latching his own hands around his killer’s throat, finishing the job, doing what should have been done instead of daring to imprison a dream.

George passes out if he uses a Totem. Instead of the rush of adrenaline, of life that floods the system of whatever uses one, it overwhelms to the point of just unconsciousness as his body repairs itself, fueled only by magic until his heart begins pumping and his lungs begin breathing again. Later when he wakes, maybe with cracked sunglasses, anyone who’s looking properly will see the dark bags under his eyes, a sheen of gold overlaying the dark purple of sleeplessness. When he sleeps it will be deeper, without dreams. Alarms and shaking won’t wake him. Nights will be sleepless as he examines the bags under his eyes, fretting over the burnt orange of the gold deepening, digging into his skin, around his eyes. He will continue to sleep, but days will pass, and when he wakes he wonders if next time he will simply be unlucky and sleep forever.

If Dream uses a Totem of Undying it will shatter him. He will feel every bone shake themselves into dust and back again, a glimpse of what everyone eventually returns to. His spine will burn with pain, arcing upwards to the base of his skull, spreading outwards like a deep set rot that always goes unnoticed until it is far too late and the structure crumbles. His mask shatters, likely from the final strike that killed him, but maybe just from his fall to the ground, a person one moment and a corpse the next, until the Totem brings him back. Gold lines every crack in the porcelain of his mask, across the monochrome of the glaze burned into it, bisecting an eye, a smile, a face. The green of him becomes so much more vibrant, deadly, similar to prey animals that evolve into their bright colors to indicate they are poisonous, saying if you kill me, I take you down with me.

If Niki ever uses a Totem, it would burn. She would feel it burning, more than the all encompassing pain of whatever killed her. Bright, sparking pain would race down her body, through every nerve, every blood vessel, until it was all she knew for that brief suspended moment on the precipice between life and death. She would grit her teeth through the pain, eyes narrowed as she reeled back from the magical force, only to march onward in doing whatever was necessary to achieve her goal. Later she would be looking at her hands, washing off blood real or metaphorical, and see that instead of chipping nail polish in whatever color of her choice, instead her nails would be intact, a brilliant gold. Nails that would make her appear vain, still absorbed with one final thing, or simply clinging to it. Nails that would sharpen into what some might call claws, digging into the fine wooden handles of her weapons, scoring lines that would never go away, even if the nails would upon her death.

If Hannah ever uses a Totem of Undying it will react strangely to her innate magic. Plants die off, withering away, leaving just the roots, the basis of their whole survival, to lie in wait underground until the rain falls again and the sun shines again. Any of her wounds will bloom with roses, the flowers ragged, shaped like bloodstains, but every leaf and petal will be edged with gold. The greenery of her roses’ vines will brighten and soak up sunshine more than ever, revitalizing her until her heart aches with it, until she finally lets fate claim the life stolen from it.

If Puffy ever uses a Totem of Undying, she wouldn’t notice side effects at first, aside from the usual anguish and pain from having died. The likely conflicts she had thrown herself into out of duty would capture her attention anyway, away from examining herself for any lingering problems. It wouldn’t be a problem anyway, not until she looked in the mirror and saw that all of her greying hairs from stress became gold, her mass of curls even heavier, no lock of hair without its reminder, its own thread of gold to weave into thick hair. Later, in a moment of true rest, when someone runs their hands through her hair, braiding it or simply trying to calm her, they would find that every golden thread burns and tries to tie itself around their hands, keeping them there, keeping them at her side where they could be safe.

If Antfrost or Fundy ever use a Totem, it settles on their skin like a weighted blanket, forcing their muscles to accommodate, forcing them to make room in their lives for the extra chance they stole. Later, when they rest, so much more tired with their aching bodies, they will curl up in the sunshine wherever they feel safest. When the sunlight catches just right, beige or burnt orange fur glimmers like a pelt of gold. Any breeze would be unable to rustle fur, their bodies motionless and unmovable as any statue, their breathing far shallower and subtler than ever before. If one wasn’t watching close enough, they’d assume there was a corpse just curled in the sunlight, begging for a final bit of warmth before letting go. They will start awake from nightmares with a hiss, and stretch out in the dying light to go pretend like they don’t feel that extra life weighing on them.

Phil only has one life to lose, and so he holds Totems close to his heart, always just one movement away from being clutched as the lifelines they are. When he’s killed holding one, wings splayed, feathers falling from the force of his death, mouth open and choking on last breaths, his death will hurt.  It will always hurt, the moment stretching through his lived centuries and snapping back into the present, so much life to flash before his eyes that they are rendered sightless and glassy, death clouding them greedily. Flashes of gold and emerald green dance on the sheen of inky feathers and glossy eyes as dead as a doll’s. When he lives again, his wings will no longer be the cape of shadows, the midnight extensions of self that they once were. His secondary feathers will be golden now, shining in the sun, always growing back that same shade. Those gilded feathers will just be another thing his murder of crows hoards, another shiny object, but to Phil it will be a permanent reminder of how he has always only had one life, and how fleeting it is.

If Wilbur got his hands on a Totem, he would never let it go. To die again and again and again, to suffer through the agony of an eternal listless limbo, to suffer again as he is replaced by a mockery of himself… he could not stand for it. So he never lets go of the Totem in hand, his thumb worrying over the facets of its emerald eyes when he thinks, nails breaking against the rigid golden effigy. There are many reasons he would die, several from his own actions, as it was before. If he did die, he would wake choking on blood and tears, hacking and wheezing and lacking all the grace and charm he once had. It wouldn’t be until he coughed once again into his hands that he would see his blood, no longer a dull red, now glimmering and golden. And he laughs, as he now resembles a god in all but the immortality, his blood turned to ichor in its molten sunlight, its deep dark shades of beauty and riches, and he keeps choking on his blood as the Totem works still to restore a body dead for the fourth time.

When Ranboo uses a Totem of Undying the magic will seep into his skin, counteracting strangely with his biology, trying to strengthen him, trying to mark him however it can. So the short black velvet of fur he received from enderman genetics will spread, the skin and fur stronger, in hopes of protecting him. It seeps like ink, a slow spread that burns as if trails of water settled on his skin. It hurts, and he hides for days, coming out with his green eye just a bit brighter, black crawling up the white side of his jaw like an outstretched hand. His own hand will reach out, and under the white skin on his forearm will be golden veins, burning with life stolen from a Totem. He forgets using Totems every time he does, the experience is so jarring and intense as it changes the fiber of his being, as with every use he appears more enderman than whatever else he is. One day, far in the future when he goes by another name, he will look in the mirror and see two emerald green eyes, his entire body the black void of fur his endermen kin have. 

Foolish is a being whose entire being had always been defined by death. Once, it was the carnage, the lives lost in droves, sent into Her embrace prematurely in their violent ends. Then Foolish changed and became a Totem of Undying himself, a god now more mortal than even he knew by resisting his domain. When he died the denial was almost too much to bear, the Egg trying to worm its way into his mind when it realized this weakness, a grief for what he lost. If he dies again, he will likely have a Totem in hand, maybe even one of his children, held close as he fears an end, selfishly cannibalizing the life force of one of his own in order to extend his last two lives. There will be no markings from the Totem. He is already one of them, eyes of gemstone and skin of metal, created and made of that space between life and death, the lull after a last heartbeat when the next is expected, the resting note in the song of life that he has conducted himself, has cut short himself, destroying all in his path without a single goal in mind in his times as a Totem of Death. There is no scar or blood or feathers or bruise to mark him, because he is a Totem. A Totem given sentience and life, given free will and thought, but at the end of the day a living doll, and the now lifeless, apathetically terrified look in Foolish’s emerald eyes is enough to show just what measures he took in order to survive another death.

[peralta-guaranteed]

I love your writing! Can I ask for a ficlet, before jake and Amy knew about the pregnancy, where Amy cries for everything and jake tries to comfort her?

(they figured out the Mac-emotions she was having pretty quickly so I feel like there weren't many instances where Jake had to comfort Amy without knowing what was up, so I hope you're okay with this being bébé 2's work)

There's soft sobs coming from the living room, and they're not the toddler kind - they shouldn't be, either, since the only toddler in question is currently making playnoises from an entirely different room down the hallway - so Jake is quick to jog over to the couch to find his wife in pieces, tears streaking down her face as she stares at the television.

"What's wrong, babe?" He cards a hand through her hair before sitting down and pulling her into a hug, but she only points at the tv, which is playing an animal documentary of all things - not exactly a good source for emotional turmoil. Amy usually likes the soothing voice of Sir David Attenborough, but something must've been terrible to get her into this state.

"The- the Mama bird." She hiccups and presses deeper into his arms. "She- she has to work so hard to get the nest right. There's not enough sticks!"

"Okay?" He gives the screen a good look, where some sort of giant stork is building something. "It looks like she's doing a really good job, Ames."

"It's just so hard!" She sobs again before pushing her face into his neck, and he makes the executive decision to turn off the tv before he softly sways her, glad she's not looking up to see his "WTF?"-face turn into an "Wait a minute"-expression as his brain catches up.

-*-

Her shoulders are shaking when he carries Mac into the kitchen for breakfast, and even with her back turned to them and facing the coffee machine he can tell she's crying from her body posture.

Luckily Mac doesn't put up much of a fuss getting strapped into his high chair this time, and after handing him a rice husk to chew on before actual food, Jake can walk over to Amy to wrap his arms around her, resting his chin on her shoulder.

"What's wrong, babe?" He whispers softly, and is glad to feel her lean back against him for comfort.

"The stupid machine hates me." She points a shaky finger towards the coffee maker. "It won't close and I keep pushing the buttons but it's only beeping and it hates me." He hears a sniffle as he inspects the accused machinery in front of him.

"You got the filter in the wrong way." He says carefully while he fixes it, his arms still around her as he swaps the pot and filter around, pushes it all back in and presses a button to make the wole thing come to life and start bubbling away.

She whines, quietly, and Jake is quick to wrap his arms around her again.

"It hates me."

"You're just tired, babe. It's a cruel irony that you need coffee to be awake enough to make coffee sometimes."

She rubs her eyes while he kisses her cheek, before letting go to get Mac his usual breakfast banana and yoghurt mush, but there's a slightly stronger suspicion creeping up from the back of his head. He tries his hardest not to let it show in the big grin their little boy gets with his airplane-spoon.

-*-

"We need a new mattress." Her voice is far too strained for such a simple statement, and he considers flicking his sidetable lamp back on to see her face in the dark of their bedroom, but scooches closer to her instead and hearing that tell-tale sniffle.

"Why, Ames? We still got warranty on it, and it's fine-"

"There's just no way to lie comfortably anywhere!" She hiccups while fruitlessly punching the pillow underneath her, shifting around and around in frustration.

"Hey." He pulls her arms towards her, and the rest of her too, blanketing her in a comfortable enough hug to make her sigh into his chest. She shivers when his hands run up and down her sides, and a massaging press into her lower back gets him a soft little whine and a few more tears soaking into his shirt.

"This hurts?" He asks carefully as his fingers continue to rub softer circles around her back dimples, but a shake of her head makes him press in a bit harder.

"Helps, actually." She mumbles against his chest as his massage continues, and he tries to piece one and one together once more.

"Are you getting your period soon?" He's trying to be careful with that question, considering they've only really talked about trying again about a month ago, and the fear and worry of all those horrible painful reminders of their 'failure' crept back in immediately. But it would be a logical explanation for her many outbursts, and the soreness and discomfort she usually gets right before her time of the month.

One of the explanations he can think of, at least. He's a bit too scared of upsetting her even more with the other one that's been swirling round in his thoughts for days.

"No." She shakes her head against him again. "I shoulda had it-"

She shoots up all of a sudden, and his hands stop their massage as she stares at him with red-rimmed eyes.

"Jake."

"I'm gonna buy a test."

"No." She sobs again as he already sits up and pulls the duvet aside, holding onto his arm. "No, it's gonna be- it won't-"

"We won't know until we know, babe."

She whines, even more high-pitched as her grip tightens, and he leans back over to her to hold her face.

"I'm scared." She whispers with more tears streaking down over his soothing thumbs. "I don't want to see- not again."

"It's only been a month, Ames. If it's negative, it's fine. We got time. We said we'd take it slower this time."

He stops her sob with a kiss, and waits until her tears have stopped too, before jumping out of bed and throwing on some more acceptable sweats and a jacket.

There's a thrum of excitement racing through his heart, even as the cashier at the 24/7 market gives him a leery look for buying a pregnancy test at 2am, and it doesn't subside as he bounds back up the stairs to their apartment.

-*-

Amy opens the door of the bathroom she's barricaded herself in for five minutes with tear-filled eyes and puffy red cheeks, and Jake jumps up from his position on the floor, leant next to the door to be as close as possible. The tears only start flowing completely as he cradles her face, and he presses his forehead against hers with closed eyes and a sigh.

"I'm so sorry, babes, I shouldn't have pushed you." He tries to comfort her even as his own heart sinks back from its previous happy jumps. "I'm- but it's okay, like I said, we got time and we can talk to your doc again and-"

"No." Amy shakes her head again, as little as she can without breaking from his hold and staying firm against his forehead too. "Jake, we've got no time at all anymore."

"What-"

She laughs even as she continues to cry, and he was too blinded by nervousness to see the absolute glow on her puffy face, the shine in her eyes he notices now. He's not too blind to see the two dark blue lines on the test she holds up, though.

He pulls her in for a deep kiss as she continues to cry and laugh at the same time, and he joins in with her giggles as they part.

"We're having another baby?"

"We're having another baby."

He kisses her again as he wipes the last few tears off her cheeks, even as she has to do the same for the ones trailing down his face now.

[aenaxes-moved]

no light in a dark room

[fox x gn!reader] after fives dies by his hand, fox comes knocking at your door.

warnings: general angst

w/c: 2.1k

a/n: this is all @amaittrtd's fault for getting me on the fox train (i wholeheartedly believe that palpatine played some awful mind trick on him and that fox deserves a warm blanket and a hug). i'm also well aware fox has a regulation haircut, but i fell in love with @amikoroyaiart's fox design so there's that.

It’s near 0200 when you rouse from your bed and open your door after two rounds of insistent knocking, the first testing, hopeful, the second quick to follow and frantic as you pull a sweater over your nightshirt and shuffle across the floor. You can barely register that it’s Fox in the doorway before he’s crowding you back into the room and pulling you tight against his armor, burying the grooves of his helmet uncomfortably close into your shoulder as your door quietly closes behind him. It’s too much, too soon, and so late in the night for you to begin to formulate the questions flurrying through your slow return to wakefulness.

Why is he awake and roaming the upper halls this late into the evening? Why is he still in his armor? Why hasn’t he taken his helmet off? Why isn’t he greeting you with that soft smile and a cheeky promise of late night stargazing? Why is he so scared?

So you stay standing in the darkness for what feels like a long while, silent but for Fox’s breaths, short and trembling through his modulator. He holds you, clings to you, unmoving and tight, a man drowning.

“Fox,” you finally say, just barely above a whisper. You wince as his grip tightens on your waist, vambrace digging into your side. “Fox, let me turn the lights on.”

You feel him shake his head, the cold plastoid edges of his helmet grinding up against your neck as he squeezes you just that much tighter, like he’s afraid to let you go, to lose you. And judging by the way your suggestion has his breaths uneven and heaving anew, even in your groggy state, you know better than to pry your arms out from under his embrace and reach for the light switch.

“Let’s at least sit down, okay?”

He’s silent a moment, then you feel him shifting away, just enough that he can unstick his helmet from the junction between your shoulder and neck, only to bow his neck low, his visor pressing through your sweater and into the bone of your shoulder.

“Okay.”

If you weren’t startled awake by his sudden arrival, you’re fully awake now. Awake enough to register the weary, hoarse creak in his voice, the barely-there tremor as he presses his palms into your skin, the faint scent of blaster smoke. He squeezes tight one more time before he’s slowly peeling his arms away from around you, and through the darkness, you watch him drop them heavy at his sides, shoulders brought low under their weight. Why hasn’t he taken off his helmet yet?

“Let’s just…” Slowly still, you lift your fingertips to the edges of his ventilator, just barely able to feel his shaking exhales puffing through the seal of his helmet. But even in his obvious panic, Fox is a trained soldier.

“No!” he cries, whipping his hands up and squeezing painfully tight around your wrists, enough that you yelp in surprise. And as soon as he’s holding you, he’s gasping loud enough to crackle through his modulator and releasing you, recoiling like he’s been burned and stumbling back on his heels until the hard back of his armor clacks up against the durasteel of your door.

You hear it clatter, then a soft thud—he’s slid down against his back—and you drop down onto your hands and knees, feeling blindly in the darkness until your fingertips touch what you suspect to be a kneeplate. Trailing higher, you feel the visor of his helmet close above the plastoid, then his vambrace, then his glove guards by the crown of his helmet. It doesn’t take much time at all for you to piece together your senses: Fox is pressed up against the durasteel, curled in on himself, his head on his knees, his hands clutching the back of his neck, his modulator betraying his quiet, hiccupy breaths through the mechanical whirr. The steadfast commander of the Coruscant guard, the man revered for his quiet, stolid strength among his men and his clean-cut dependability on the Senate floor, your soft smile to call home: Fox is sobbing against your door.

“I’m sorry,” he croaks between stuttering breaths. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry. I just—I just—”

“No, no,” you whisper, your knees knocking against his shin guards as you gently guide the side of his helmet against your chest. You’re sure he can feel the unsteady shake in your hands, your racing heartbeat, but how many times has he been your shoulder to cry on, all soothing words and grounding touch? He would argue otherwise, giving without any expectations for return, but you owe it to him to offer what small comforts you can. “It’s okay,” you croon, pressing your cheek against the top of his helmet. “You’re safe.”

Fox makes something that sounds like a dissonant cross between a sob and a groan, like the walls of a ship being torn apart particle by particle just before it dips below the event horizon and blinks out of sight. He wraps his arms around your waist and wails, and all you can do is hold him close in the darkness and hope.

Your knees burn by the time Fox’s cries have subsided to quiet, tremorous breaths, having held him close for what feels like a fraught hour. And when you’re just sure enough that he’s brought himself to a weak semblance of his usual calm, you lower your hands from the sides of his helmet, bringing one to gently rub at the back of his neck and the other under his chin to tip his head up towards you in the low light. He exhales shakily through the modulator.

“Better?” you ask. You wish you could lift the heavy helmet from his shoulders to see him in his fullness behind the plastoid, bared to you in all of his goodness and all of his fear, to ask to share in his burden, whatever it was.

Fox clears his throat, coughing awkwardly, but when he gently rubs his thumb over your hip, your heart warms; you already know your answer. “Yes,” he mumbles, bumping his visor against your ribs. “Thank you, my starlight.”

“The floor’s cold,” you murmur, kneading gently at the tense sinew of his neck. “Let’s go to bed?”

He nods against your chest, and you help heft him onto his feet, guiding him carefully to your bedside. Where Fox is normally straightlaced punctuality and organization that would put the regulation manuals to shame, tonight, you help him remove his armor piece by piece and let the plastoid clatter in a haphazard heap onto the floor by your bed. Tonight, he can be reckless and vulnerable and feeling. He deserves that much.

His helmet is the last to go when he’s bare-handed and stripped to his blacks. Without thinking, you reach for his head, but you’re quick to remember how that had started this whole ordeal in the first place, how he’d lashed out at you like a cornered animal, how he’d scared you half to death. You’re not opposed to him crawling into bed with you with his helmet—it’s a bit of an odd thought, his lean frame in his blacks topped with the bulky weight of his helmet that can’t be comfortable lying down, but considering the events of the night, you’re more than happy to make space for his comfort. You still ask anyways.

“Can I take your helmet off?” you ask, placing your palms on his shoulders and gently rubbing over his collar. You make sure to keep your voice as soft and low as possible so not to frighten him into another panic (what a notion! The unflappable commander Fox, startled by your voice). “I’ll keep the lights off. I promise I won’t peek.” You smile softly, though he surely cannot see you in the darkness. And for a moment, a searing bolt of doubt flashes through your gut as Fox stands before you in tenuous silence.

Then, his voice comes soft, almost timid, straining through the darkness.

“Promise?”

“I promise.”

Your heart aches. It burns.

“Yes, please.”

It’s the first time you’ve handled his armor like glass, having knocked on his helmet to say hello, dropped it on more than one occasion, and nearly slung the whole thing across the room when he’d heft you into his arms and laugh as you brought your legs around his waist. Your fingertips are light over the worn scrapes and crimson paint as you carefully, carefully press your palms into the plastoid and lift his helmet off his shoulders. It feels almost ceremonial, you think, as you see the dark silhouette of his head emerge from underneath until you can see the wavy top of his hair outlined in the low light. You carefully set his helmet on your nightstand and turn back to him.

It’s then that, for the first time this evening, you wonder what expression he’s wearing, how his eyes must be rimmed red and weary of tears, how all those years of fighting this perpetual war have deepened the furrow in his brow and the constant fatigue simmering just below his dark brown eyes. You wonder if he’s looking to you with an apology, with shame, with a silent plea for comfort, whether he’s seeking out your eyes as much as you are his. You have never been more desperate to see him in his entirety, open wounds and all.

But you have a promise to keep.

You thank the Maker that there’s just enough light for you to make out Fox’s outline, and you reach for him, lacing your fingers with his as you tug him a few steps towards your bed. You crawl in first, gently pulling him to follow suit. Normally, your nights sharing a bed with Fox begin and end with you tucked up against his broad chest as he curled secure around you. But in unspoken agreement, tonight, you shift yourself higher up on the bed, your back pressed against the wall as you open your arms to him, and Fox tucks up against you, his cheek pressed up beside your beating heart as you draw the covers over his shoulders and hold him close. You still feel the tension in his shoulders as you slowly comb your fingers through his wavy locks, but you are beyond grateful that the shake in his fingers has stilled, and so too, you hope, the wild thumping of his heart.

You open your mouth to bid him goodnight when, finally, he speaks.

“I swore I put it to stun,” Fox mumbles, just a hair above a whisper.

Oh.

“I thought I aimed for his arm.” His arms tighten around your waist, and he shifts so that his nose is pressed into the space just below your ribs, and you can feel the warmth of his breaths over your skin. “I knew I aimed for his arm.”

You continue to stroke over his hair. You’re not sure who he is, but you’re certain it’s one of his brothers. Fox had always been particularly sensitive to that. Loss. You want to ask, but you hold your tongue.

“And when the smoke cleared, I—I… I couldn’t look him in the eyes. How could I?” His voice is distant, the telltale quiver curling at the edges of his words.

“You did what you thought was right,” you murmur. If there are any lucid explanations to be had, they will come in the morning.

“I don’t think I thought at all.”

You aren’t entirely sure what Fox means. For all you know, it could be his unchecked grief stumbling over his tongue and placing words like plasters over the wounds left behind. It could be the aftershocks of whatever tragedy had occurred still rumbling through his lungs. It could be something more. You suspect it’s a combination of all three, but for now, for tonight, you dip your head low and press your lips against the top of his head.

“It’s been a long day,” you murmur, lifting your hand from his shoulder and stroking your fingertips down from his jaw to his chin. You lift his head just so, bringing him up just enough to crane your neck and kiss over his brow, feel him sigh against your chest. “Sleep. We’ll figure everything out in the morning.”

“You’ll be here when I wake?” Fox asks, lifting his chin to brush his nose over your jaw. The darkness will not let you see him, but you close your eyes anyways as you cup his cheek and bring yourself close. Pressing your brow to his, you’re close enough that you can feel his lashes flutter against your skin as he blinks, once, twice, waiting. You inhale, hold, and he exhales with you.

“Always, Fox. Always.”