#and keeps kicking and struggling and shouting and cursing

[blackcover]

Uhhhhh, surely it's been a quite long while...? Anyway! Yeah, still alive yet apparently not that active anymore. So please bear with my sticking to the older setting because?? BOY HERE HAS BEEN THROUGH A LOT AND I DON'T EVEN KNOW WHERE TO BEGIN?!

[shadyhouse]

i keep getting rejected from job applications and i have no idea what im doing wrong. i wish they would just tell you WHY you're getting rejected and ways to improve. its a guessing game that ends up making me feel even more worthless than i felt before

[tunatoge]

pairing: teen!s. gojo x fem!reader (use of "mom")

contents: gojo fucks up tsumiki's talent show (whoopsies!), mention of smoking and swear words, slight slut shaming

“my parents are really cool—uh, hi mom… hi, satoru,” tsumiki announces to the group of students and parents during her talent show. you glance at gojo who holds his phone up like a proud dad, recording the entire thing as he gives tsumiki a thumbs up. “and they helped me with this,” she adds as she wrings her hands. “this is for you guys… and megumi.” 

you giggle as megumi shifts in his seat, his cheeks a soft pink. you stop laughing when an explicit song starts playing from the auditorium’s stereo system, tsumiki awkwardly dancing on stage to the music. you snap your head towards gojo, your mouth agape. gojo stands up as he whoops and hollers, still recording tsumiki. 

“that’s my daughter!” he shouts as parents rush to cover their kids’ ears. “yeah, tsumiki! you’re doing great!” 

you cover megumi’s ears as you step down on gojo’s right foot. “satoru,” you hiss angrily, watching from the corner of your eye as the school staff struggle to pause the music. “what the fuck is this?” 

he looks at you, his blue eyes practically glowing in the dimly lit room. “what? it’s a good song!” he insists. 

“yeah,” you say as the music pauses and tsumiki bows before skipping away. “for people our age while we’re out clubbing and drinking! that was so inappropriate for kids!” 

satoru sits down next to you, ignoring the way the other parents glare at him and curse him out under their breath. “she told me she wanted to stick out so i told her i knew what to do!” 

you frown and you uncup your hands from megumi’s ears. he glares at gojo with you, easily knowing gojo fucked up. 

“i thought we agreed you’d stop helping the kids with their talent shows after you told megumi that using jujutsu for a magic show was a good idea,” you hiss, briefly turning around and apologizing to the angry mom behind you who kicks at your feet. 

“god,” the mom hisses after seeing your face, “of course it’s some stupid teen parents.” 

you frown at her words, keeping megumi from jumping up and attempting to fight the lady. you excuse yourself, squeezing past knees as they look at you and glare. 

“did you hear what that little girl said?” someone whispers to their partner as you walk by. “she said mom and satoru, not dad. that’s gotta be one messed up family.” they snicker. 

you grit your teeth as you move towards the exit, quietly squeezing out the door and pulling a pack of cigarettes from your jacket pocket. you always knew you and gojo were going to face backlash for raising tsumiki and megumi while being kids yourselves, but you never thought you’d be facing it yourself after the kids had taken to calling you mom and refused to call satoru dad. you sigh and move away from the school building, taking a cigarette between your lips. you dig around for your zippo, frowning when you can’t find it. 

“i thought we agreed you’d stop smoking,” gojo says behind you. you look up at him, tsumiki in his arms and megumi next to him. 

you swallow as you place the cigarette back in its box. “not like i could’ve smoked it anyway,” you say as you take megumi’s hand in yours and walk towards the car. “i lost my lighter, the one suguru gave me.” 

“i have it.” you look at gojo as he digs around in his pocket and pulls out your tarnished silver zippo lighter. he flips it around and around in his hands, index finger gently running over the engraving on its side. “hand me your cigarettes and i’ll give it back to you.” 

you sigh as you unlock the car door and situate megumi into his car seat. “i don’t need it if i’m not smoking.” you buckle megumi in and gently ruffle his hair before shutting the door. 

gojo sighs as he sets tsumiki in the car and shuts the door. “what’s wrong?” he asks, rounding the car and taking your elbows into his overly large palms. he smooths them up your triceps, touch airy and light. “you only ever feel the need to smoke when something’s bothering you.” 

you sigh as you lean into his touch. “i’m just tired of people assuming i’m some whore who spreads their legs for anyone. it really hurts when parents look at me with so much disgust when tsumiki or megumi call me mom.” you lean forward and press your forehead into gojo’s firm chest. 

“y’know,” gojo starts as he rests his chin in your hair, “those parents probably would have never stepped up like you did. you gave up the rest of your childhood for theirs and those stupid adults will never know that.” he pulls away and carefully looks you in the eye. “they can assume as much as they want, pretty, because the four of us know the truth and the truth is much stronger.” 

you let out a choked laugh as you press your head back into his chest. “yeah, you’re right. they’re just some stupid old people.” 

gojo laughs as he fully wraps his arms around you, rocking you back and forth in the parking lot of tsumiki’s school. 

megumi swings his door open. “can we go home now?” he calls. “tsumiki’s tired.” 

you laugh as you pull away from gojo and wipe at your eyes. “yes, we can,” you respond, digging in your pockets and handing gojo your cigarettes. he smiles and hands you your zippo in return. “mom’s gotta have a long talk with dad once we get there.” 

gojo grins at the way you laugh at megumi’s scrunched up face. he’s thoroughly glad that it was you who stepped up with him.

[orangeheliophile]

Babysitting

(Bakugou Katsuki x reader)

You offered to babysit triplets for a friend, but Katsuki wants your attention, and he wants it now. So it turns out you have to babysit four demons who are filled with attitude and chaos.

Warnings: Bakugou. Cursing, slightly suggestive?

Contains: Crack, fluff, mentions of marriage and having kids, Third year! Bakugou, reader is silly, and Bakugou is a ridiculous boyfriend. Mild making out, chaotic triplets, Bakugou is petty but clingy with reader.

"C'mon, handsome. It's time to let go."

Currently, your boyfriend, Katsuki, is clinging to you like a koala. Literally.

He has his legs wrapped around your waist, and his arms circled around your shoulders. His face is stuffed into your neck, while his fluffy spiky hair is shoved into your face. You would find him cute if you didn't have to leave in ten minutes.

A deep sigh leaves you, not being able to walk with your 5'11 boyfriend wrapped around you like a baby. Not to mention that he has stupidly big muscles everywhere, making him kinda heavy to carry.

Your hand playfully reaches to poke his cheek, to which he huffs in response and nuzzles his face into your neck. The action makes you flinch, as you're ticklish, so your boyfriend is basically torturing you.

"B-Babe! Stop!-"

The blonde scoffs, squeezing his arms and legs around you while pressing wet kisses onto the exposed skin on your shoulder. The sensation is ticklish, making you shiver as you feel your face heat up. Yeah, he's not getting off any time soon.

With a sigh, you place your hands under his thighs, hoisting him up as a surprised grunt leaves his lips. You hold him securely, rolling your eyes when his grip tightens and his head peeks at you with a 'you better not drop me or I'll kill you' look. Nonetheless, you carry him like a baby! He is a baby. Your stupidly ridiculous, heavy, grumpy, handsome baby.

Taking the first few steps is difficult, but you manage to waddle to your desk while carrying Katsuki with you. What does his mother feed him?! You extend your hand to grab your bag, struggling to do so as little grunts leave your lips. Katsuki rolls his eyes, unwrapping one of his legs around you to kick your bag farther away from you. Your eyes twitches in irritation, shooting him a glare as the blonde snickers and buries his face in your chest.

"I should abandon you in an alleyway."

"I'll fucking duct tape myself to your hip."

You sigh disappointingly, shaking your head to which your boyfriend hates. So the bastard licks your face like a dog instead.

You yelp, face scrunching as you drop your boyfriend onto the cold, harsh floor. Katsuki grunts loudly, rubbing his lower back while shooting you a lazy glare. "The fuck was that for?!" He grumbles.

You stare down blankly at your boyfriend, grabbing your bag forcefully as you lightly kick his rib while walking over him as if he's a rug. The blonde scowls, turning onto his stomach while grabbing your ankle with both hands, making you drag him across the floor.

Katsuki whines dramatically, his face sliding against the floor as you try to shake the heavy and bulky man off of you. "Quit trying to abandon me! Where the hell do you have to go anyway?!" He shouts, wrapping his arm around your leg so it makes you harder for you to leave him.

With a struggle and a few kicks towards him, you manage to grab the doorknob, a determined smile on your face as you glance down at your angry gremlin smugly.

"I'm going to babysit. And if you don't let me go, I'm taking you with me!"

Yeah, he's starting to regret acting like a fucking toddler.

Currently, you're handling three little children who are the reincarnation of tiny demons. But no, their just sweet little angels in your eyes.

Katsuki is worried that you're blind.

He's slumped onto the aqua colored sofa, arms crossed with a scowl on his face when one of the kids keeps clinging onto your hips while whining like a toddler. That's his fucking job.

One of the triplets, a girl named Aimi, is standing in front of Katsuki shyly. The blonde glances down at the small child from the corner of his eye. The young girl flinches, blush creeping up her cheeks as she tilts her head away with her hands behind her back.

Katsuki raises his eyebrow, huffing with a roll of his eyes before grumbling loudly. "What do ya want?" The girl smiles cutely in response, twirling side to side as she reveals the plastic princess tiara from behind.

No. Absolutely, no.

Katsuki's eyes widen, a scowl leaving his lips as he sits up straight on the couch. "There is no way in hell!-" You send a glare at him, having the other two children clinging onto you as you open their bags of veggies. Katsuki shuts up. He somewhat fears your wrath. That, he will admit.

With an exaggerated groan, Katsuki rubs his face with his hands, having a deadpanned expression while sending a glare to the little girl in front of him. "Fine! But don't you dare to that makeup crap with me!" Aimi gasps happily, having a wide smile as she grabs the blondes' hand and drags him to the small table.

The other two boys, Haruto and Dai, are clinging onto you like Koalas. One of them is wrapped around you like a backpack, while the other is sticking onto your legs. The two boys snicker seeing Katsuki having to participate in a tea party with the most dreaded look on his face.

You glance at the scene, unable to hide your laughter at the sights of your boyfriend wearing a pink tiara while barely being able to fit on the small plastic seat. The blonde snaps his head towards you, having an angry pout on his lips as his face turns a shade of bubblegum pink of embarrassment.

"Quit laughing at me!"

You snicker, giving a cheeky smile to your boyfriend as you place the veggie snacks onto the plastic table. "It's time to eat your veggies, Aimi." You smile, patting the girls head as she giggles in response. You glance at Katsuki slyly, a smug look in your eyes as you pass the plate of chopped up carrots and green beans to him. "You too, Kats."

The blonde glares at you, muttering under his breath as he takes the plate harshly and chomps onto the snack. The triplets giggle at the aggressive boys' misery, as Haruto sticks his tongue out at Katsuki while Dai clings onto you tighter.

Katsuki sends a glare to the boys, making them flinch as they hide behind you. Haruto, who has grown attached to you since you've arrived, hid his face into your neck as you carried him. This ticks your boyfriend off. Because he's the one who should be clinging onto you. His face should be stuffed into your neck! And he's supposed to be the one who's getting your God damn attention!

And you know this, because you send him a knowing smile while rubbing Harutos' hair. And Katsuki's jaw drops while his eye twitches.

That's the last fucking straw.

Katsuki huffs, and puffs, his lips pouty and his eyes filled with pettiness anger. The triplets look at him in concern, thinking he's about to explode when he- drops onto the floor.

You snort, rolling your eyes at his pettiness as he curls into a ball with his back facing you.

The triplets merely blink and shrug their shoulders.

Aimi walks over to the spiky haired blonde, poking his shoulder as she sighs and shakes her head. "Well, he's dead." She says, taking off her plastic tiara to put on her doctor coat. The boys grin, knowing what their sister is about to do as they hop down and grab the toy shovel and the fake surgical tools.

Your eyes widen in amusement, hiding your laughter with your hand as you sit down on the couch and watch them play with torture your boyfriend. Aimi kicks his leg with her foot, as the blonde doesn't respond at all and plays dead.

Haruto sneaks up from behind, peering down on your boyfriend as he scrunches his face in disapproval. He grabs the plastic shovel, thinking that he's going to pretend digging up the dirt, but instead, he smacks it onto Katsuki's head. Repeatedly. Just to make sure he's dead!

You laugh, watching the boy beat up your 'dead' boyfriend while Dai fake sniffles and Aimi throws flower toys onto Katsuki. You decide to play along, grabbing a kid-sized blanket and getting up from your spot. You make your way towards the triplets, tossing the blanket onto Katsuki as the blonde harshly grabs it and wraps it around himself.

"So dramatic." You sigh, rolling your eyes while chuckling when you hear a quiet growl leave your buried boyfriend.

You crouch down next to Haruto, whispering in the little boys' ear as a big smile grows on his face and nods happily. Haruto goes to tell his other siblings, whispering to each other as they snicker in agreement. Your eyes wander to Katsuki, poking your finger to his back to which he tenses up, yet doesn't respond. You huff, cheeks puffed out as you slowly make motions with your finger on his back. This soothes your boyfriend, watching him relax as he scoots closer to your touch.

Suddenly, he rolls towards your direction, hooking his arms under your knees as you yelp in surprise when he flips you both over. The blonde bastard sighs in content, snuggling his face into the plush of your thighs while wrapping his legs around your calfs. You deadpan, propped up on your elbows as you watch your boyfriend curl into your body. So immature.

The triplets stare at you both, Aimi giggling and fawning over your romance while Dai rubs his head in confusion. Haruto has his cheeks puffed out adorably angrily, crossing his arms with a huff as he glares at the blonde laying on your lap. Katsuki opens his eye, giving a smug smirk towards the younger boy while grabbing your hand and kissing it repeatedly.

You roll your eyes, hearing a dramatic gasp leave Haruto as the little boys' jaw drops in betrayal. "Y/n! Why is he kissing your hand? You said I was the one who could marry you!" The boy whines. Katsuki freezes, looking at you with wide eyes as you tense and gulp. You laugh awkwardly, rubbing the back of your neck while trying to create a distance between you and your boyfriend. "I can explain-"

"YOU SAID WHAT?!"

Katsuki sits up, eye twitching as he has his hands on either side of you. You blink, accidentally making eye contact with him as you can see the jealousy in his fiery gaze.

And at this moment, you realized it's time to leave.

You shove your boyfriend off, enough to get out of his grasp as you scramble onto your feet and start to run away. Katsuki scowls, pouting angrily as the thought of you agreeing to marry someone else infuriates him. Even if it was just to make sure a kid wasn't crying!

You race towards the couch, leaping onto the other side in order to escape your feral pomeranian haired lover. It doesn't work.

Katsuki chases after you, the triplets squealing and laughing as they watch his jump to the other side and land in front of you. You squeal, trying to get away, but the blonde scowls and scoops you up in his beefy arms. He sits criss crossed, making you sit on his lap while his arms are wrapped around your shins in order to keep you still. Your arms are pinned to your sides, making you unable to move as he huffs and presses kisses to your head.

Whining, you squirm in his grasp, wanting to get away, to which he grunts in disapproval. "Quit doin' that shit." He grumbles, squeezing you three times as a silent signal for 'I love you.'

Your heart softens at the gesture, starting to relax in his embrace as he sighs in content.

In his mind, this is where you should be. In his arms, showing each other affection and certainly not agreeing to marry anyone else.

But the triplets have other plans in mind.

The three look towards the couch curiously, knowing you both are sitting behind it as Haruto pouts and curls into a ball on the floor. Dai shakes his head disappointingly at his brother, patting Haruto's head as the other boy fake sobs.

Aimi looks towards her Haruto, getting an idea as she grins and runs over to shake her brothers shoulders. The little girl starts to whisper her plan, the other two listening in as they quickly nod in agreement.

Small feet pat against the floorboards, and the three of them scramble to where you two are sitting, all of them having eager smiles on their faces as they go behind the couch to tell you their great idea.

But they stop when they see Katsuki making out with you. On purpose. With the kissing noises and everything.

You're pressed against the wall, arm draped over his shoulder as your hand is pressed firmly against his chest, face red and too flustered to notice the triplets staring at you both in horror.

Katsuki opens his eye, having a smug glint as he smirks into the kiss while looking at the three, especially Haruto. He thinks he's so funny when he makes the kissy noises and roams his hands around your back.

Yeah, the triplets have seen enough.

Aimi squeals dramatically, covering her face with her hands in order to keep some of her purity. Dai gags, bending over as he scrunches his face in disgust when he sees Katsuki lick your mouth. Haruto, on the other hand, has had enough. As he stomps his way towards you both but Katsuki is quicker to react, placing his big hand on Haruto's face as the younger boy scowls and complains.

You're kinda getting embarrassed, so you attempt to pull away from Katsuki's lip lock, but he doesn't want to let you. He's having too much fun traumatizing the kids!

Whining, you place one of your hands on his neck, the other on his chest as you pull him away from you and try to squirm away. "My job is to babysit! Not to traumatize little kids!" You yell, slapping your boyfriends' head while he snickers.

"Oh really? Because that sounds like my job, peach-"

"NOT THE NICKNAME!!"

With a hard smack to the head, Katsuki releases you, groaning in pain as he holds his head in his hands and falls back onto the floor. The blonde scowls, trying to trap you with his legs, but you're quicker to escape his leg lock.

Haruto snickers at the blondes' pain, rushing towards you as he clings onto your side. The younger boy wraps his arms around your neck, whispering in your ear as you listen attentively. You grin, patting the childs' head as you turn and deadpan to your boyfriend.

"Time out, Katsuki. Go to the corner."

His jaw drops in offense, making a silly scrunched up face as Aimi and Dai giggle. "What do you mean 'time out'?! I'm your boyfriend!-" He gasps dramatically when you scoff and cross your arms. You stand on your feet, picking up Aimi as you both point to a corner behind the play room area. Right behind the toy kitchen.

Katsuki scoffs, rolling his eyes as he stands and stomps to the corner dramatically, making the kids giggle of how dramatic and funny he is. You snicker, a smile on your face as you wonder if he's doing this on purpose. Could it be he wants to entertain the triplets?...

With a dramatic groan, Katsuki slumps onto the floor, facing the corner while hugging his knees. The triplets snicker, as Katsuki whines exaggerated and starts to complain. "This is so boring. Can't I do something else?" You grin, shaking your head while crossing your arms. "Nope." You reply, making sure to pop the 'p' as your blonde groans out loud.

You huff out a laugh, holding onto your stomach when Katsuki starts to whine and complain that he's so hungry. The triplets laugh along with you, and little do you know that Katsuki has a small smile on his face when he sees a glimpse of your precious, beautiful smile. Mission accomplished.

"Geez, I'm hungry. I could sure as hell go for some..." Katsuki pauses, turning his head to the side as he gives you a mischievous grin while wiggling his eyebrows. "... Peaches."

Your smile slowly falls, the wires going on on your brain as your eyes widen in horror at the realization. Katsuki chuckles darkly, taking a knee as he presses his fingertips onto the wooden floor. Gulping, you take a few steps back, as Katsuki sits up. "Katsuki, no." Your boyfriend smirks, taking a step closer while staying low to the ground. "Katsuki, yes."

You try to run away, but it's too late.

Katsuki leaps towards you, making you squeal dramatically as he scoops you up in his arms and carries you like a baby. You burst out in laughter, feeling your boyfriend slightly lift up your shirt as he blows raspberries onto your stomach. The triplets squeal and laugh, finding you both entertaining as Katsuki pretends to 'eat' you.

"Dang, who knew you were so delicious, peach?" Katsuki teases, lifting you up bridal style while burying his face in the plush of your stomach. You cackle, kicking your feet as you try to avoid his endless torture. "Hah!- Wait!- I c-can't-" You're unable to speak, giggling and laughing as your boyfriend twirls you around in his arms.

He snickers, peering towards you as his cherry red eyes hold a certain emotion in them, adoration. It's hard to miss with how much his pupils are dilated.

Dai laughs, wanting to help you as he tackles Katsuki's leg and clings to it. The blonde yelps in surprise, a smirk growing on his face as Aimi soon joins after. "Hey! Knock it off, yoy little brats!" The kids giggle, Dai sticks his tongue out while Aimi laughs and shakes her head. "We're not brats!" She retorts, stomping her foot while clinging onto Katsuki's other leg.

Your pomeranian haired lover raises his eyebrow, a playful smile on his face as he squeezes you in his arms, making you giggle. "Oh really? You sure about that? Could've sworn there were some little monsters bothering me earlier."

Aimi squeals, smiling and giggling while Dai puffs his cheeks out and pouts. Haruto huffs, standing on the top of the couch unknown to Katsuki. The boy smirks mischievously, extending his arms out as he jumps onto Katsuki's back.

The blonde grunts, playfully glaring at the younger boy as Haruto snickers and clings onto Katsuki's back like a koala.

Right now, Katsuki has his hands full. Yet it doesn't seem so bad. The kids are having a fun time, and you're happily in his arms while smiling. And although Katsuki would never admit it, it starts to make him wonder. Is this what having a family with you would be like? If it is, he isn't entirely against the idea of having a billion brats running around the house.

"I want ice cream!"

"Hey, me too!"

"Y/n! Y/ns' boyfriend! Can we get ice cream!?"

Yeah, maybe he should think about it first.

Years later, you and your husband Katsuki are sitting on a bench at the park.

It's a warm, sunny day, filled with laughter and joy as your children are having fun on the playground. You both are the top pro heroes, having saved many lives and living in a big house for your growing family.

Katsuki has his arm wrapped around you, wearing casual clothes as he places his warm hand on your baby bump. You're pregnant for the sixth time. Like I said, you've been busy.

You smile at him, playing with his fluffy hair as it has grown longer, similar to his mother's. He sighs in content, nuzzling his head against yours while practically having you pressed up against him. He would prefer having you on his lap, but then your kids would want to go on a dogpile. And he doesn't want that since you're pregnant, and he's always way more clingy and protective when you are. He basically suffocates you way more than usual.

You gaze at the scenery, and the bright blue sky is beautifully paired with the vibrant flowers and grass. The sun makes everything seem brighter, and he thinks it makes you look radiant under its golden rays.

"So, do you think that babysitting all of those years ago prepared you for this?" You tease, a smile on your lips while you point to your many kids playing on the park. Your husband huffs out a laugh, a toothy grin showing as he presses kisses to your forehead. "Probably. If it wasn't for my clingy ass, I might not have thought that kids could be fun little monsters." He responds, his voice deeper and more husky as the years had gone by.

You nod in agreement, laying your head on his shoulder while tracing circles on his thigh, another one of the many gestures of affection you both share. "Aimi says she can babysit for the twins on Friday and that Dai has some free time to hang out with the triplets for the weekend." You smile, finding it amusing how the kids you used to help babysit for are now babysitting your own children.

Katsuki hums, bumping his nose against your cheek while rubbing your baby bump affectionately. "Ya know, they might need to make more time to babysit if we keep having kids." He smirks, giving you a mischievous look as you snort and shake your head.

"We only keep having kids because you lack self-control."

"It's not my fault, mamas. You're too irresistible-"

You blush, snickering at your husbands' flirting as Katsuki smirks in victory. He laughs a bit, pulling you closer so you're practically sitting on his lap. Placing your hand on top of his, you play with his fingers, turning your head to kiss his cheek to which he blushes in response. Even after all of these years, you both manage to fluster one another.

"You know, Haruto could help me take care of our younger kids while you take our teens to UA." Your husband scoffs, raising his eyebrow as you snort at his pettiness. "Yeah, right. We both know how the little bastard kept trying to steal ya from me all those years ago." He pouts, making you coo and caress his cheek lovingly.

"Oh, don't be such a grump. Haruto's grown up, and I'm sure it was just an admiration or something." You reply, finding it amusing how protective your husband can be. Even if it's been about 15 years.

Katsuki rolls his eyes, about to complain more, but stops when you scratch his stubble with his fingers. His eyes flutter, drowning in the sensation as he leans his cheek into your palm, urging you to continue while placing your hand into his hair to play with. You giggle, smiling while playing with the fluffiness of his spiky hair as he imitates a cat purring with a lazy grin on his face.

"You're adorable when you're grumpy." You say, letting out a squeal when he blows raspberries at your face. You burst into laughter, shoving his face away much to his disapproval, making him bring you closer so you're now chest to chest. You giggle, feeling him rub his cheek against your face while having his arms wrapped around you.

Katsuki huffs, rubbing your baby bump as the baby kicks against his hand, making him smile as you gasp in delight.

"She loves you!"

"Of course she does. Why wouldn't she?"

You shrug your shoulders, looking down at your baby bump as you whisper to him loudly. "She says that you sweat too much when we cuddle." He scrunches his nose, jabbing his fingers into your hips which makes you giggle and squeal.

"Hah? Is that so? Are you sure this is our baby talking and not you?" He deadpans. You nod proudly, pinching his cheeks so his teeth bare at you. "Yeah, she told me that. She also says that you're bad at flirting-"

Katsuki gasps dramatically, putting a hand on his heart as you laugh at his fake betrayal. You roll your eyes, a happy smile on your face as you kiss him all over his face as an apology. Your blonde hums in satisfaction, holding you tightly in his arms as his cherry red eyes gaze right into yours.

He leans closer, his lips brushing against your ear while his cherry red eyes stare intensely into yours. Your heart skips a beat, feeling his warm breath against your face as his hand squeezes your hips three times.

"I love you." He whispers, peppering kisses onto the side of your face as you smile and blush. A giggle escapes you. The fact that your husband is just Bakugou Katsuki makes you feel like a schoolgirl again. "I love you more, baby."

The blonde scrunches his face, getting up in your personal space as his face is pressed up right in front of yours.

"Nuh uh."

"Yuh huh."

"Nuh uh."

"Yuh huh!"

"Nuh, uh!"

In order to shut him up, you cup his face, to which he responds by smashing his lips onto yours.

You may have one this round, but he'll definitely win the next one. Do you know why?

Because he's Bakugou Katsuki. And he loves you. But he's definitely not babysitting some of his kids. They're too crazy and feral. Even for him.

I am currently working on a request for @real-hot-grl-shi, so this is a little treat for the meantime! I'm always happy to write fics for you guys if you have any requests! Sorry if it's bad, btw.

[coldfanbou]

Fight and Make Up

A little argument with Jihyo gets naughty on day 29

Length 1.3K

Jihyo x mreader

You and Jihyo didn’t fight often, but when you did, it often escalated to yelling between the two of you. This time, your argument centered on what her parents wanted and how your relationship was progressing too slowly for their liking. You wanted to wait a little bit longer for marriage, but Jihyo’s parents continued to bug her about getting married. They had threatened to look for someone who would do it and marry Jihyo off to someone else.

“Yeah, and what are you going to do about it?!” Jihyo yelled as she smacked things off her counter before turning to you. You step up to Jihyo, and as she swings at you, you grab her wrist. You stare into each other's eyes, both of you filled with anger, but lying underneath that was a sexual tension. You both wanted each other, but neither wanted to make the first move.

You both stay like that until Jihyo swings her other arm, and you grab it as well. Now that both of her hands were well above her head. You give in first and kiss Jihyo. You feel her arms try to move, but you keep her still. Slowly, she begins returning the kiss. Jihyo bites your bottom lip as you pull away from her. You push Jihyo back onto your bed, crawling over her until you're straddling her. Jihyo’s chest rises slowly as she takes long, drawn-out breaths. “Fuck you.” She says between breaths. You lean down and kiss her again; she struggles, trying to break free of you. You glance at the bed’s headboard, noticing the long piece of fabric from the other night’s fun. You grab it and tie Jihyo’s hands to the headboard. “Hey!” She shouts as she realizes what you’re doing. You grab a pair of scissors and start to cut her shirt, starting from the bottom and moving your way up. Her breasts, now free, you take her large mounds in your hands and squeeze them tightly. 

Jihyo bites her lip, containing her moans. You move her tits around, making small circular movements as she curses at you. You move your hand down her toned stomach until you reach her sweatpants. Jihyo tries to kick you away. “Ya! You bastard! I loved that shirt.” You quickly pull them off her, leaving her panties on. You rub her folds as you go back in for a kiss. Jihyo returns the kiss while trying to escape her restraints. Breaking the kiss, you throw off your shirt and take off your pants. You continue to rub Jihyo’s folds before moving her panties to the side. Rubbing her lips with your cock, she moans lightly. You invade her mouth at the same time you push past her lower lips. Jihyo slowly stops fighting you as she feels your cock push inside. Her warm walls slowly separate for you, gripping your cock tightly as you bury yourself inside. “You enjoying yourself?” You ask Jihyo as you hear her moans.

“Fuck you,” She replies. You start thrusting into Jihyo. With her hands still bound to the headboard, you’re free to watch her breasts bounce as you drive your cock into her. You grip her thighs, squeezing her thighs hard enough to leave a temporary imprint. Jihyo turns her head to the side and blocks your view of it. It was her attempt to try and hide her pleasure. Your thrusts become more powerful; you place your hands on either side of Jihyo and drive your cock into her with force. Her both lurches as you plow her. The pleasure wracks Jihyo’s body, and she begins to near her climax. You place your hand around her throat and continue to ravish Jihyo. Her walls tighten around you as you knock against her womb. You turn her head so she has to look at you, but Jihyo shuts her eyes. It was too bad that her moans gave away how she was feeling. They were coming faster and louder the longer you fucked her. “Shit,” You hear her whisper under her breath. Knowing that she’s close to her orgasm, you slow down, burying yourself inside her and stopping completely. Jihyo looks at you confused but quickly comes to understand why you stopped.

She doesn’t bother asking why, knowing you would use it as an opportunity to make her beg.  You smirk and play with her tits; her large mounds are soft and squishy. Every squeeze of them made Jihyo coo softly. Jihyo’s small nipple became your sole attention. You pinched one between your finger and thumb before lightly pulling on it. For her other nipple, you started to suckle on it. Your tongue moves around the small nub as you suckle on it. Jihyo throws her head back and bites her lip. You know she wants to cum. She is on the very edge, but the pleasure you’re giving her won’t give her the boost she needs. Though she doesn’t notice, Jihyo has started to grind against you, rocking her hips up and down as she tries to push herself over the edge.

“You know what you have to say if you want to cum.” You remind Jihyo. She gives you a frown and stays quiet. You start to pull out, dragging out the process. Jihyo’s legs lock around you, but she refuses to say anything. You lean in and get beside her ear. “Beg already.” 

Jihyo shakes her head. “I’d rather die.”

In response, you nod your head. “Alright. Just know I gave you an easy way out.” You snake your arms behind Jihyo’s knees and unwrap her legs from around you. Pushing them forward and raising her cunt into the air, you slam your cock in. You pull out slowly before doing it again. You slowly pick up speed until you're constantly pounding away at her cunt. Jihyo’s walls tighten around you quickly.

“Shit, shit, shit.” Jihyo moans. She has a grimace on her face as she cums. You feel her walls trying to milk your cum from you as she screams out from the pleasure. You take advantage of her tight cunt, continuing to ram your cock into her. Now overstimulated, Jihyo starts to fight her binding, trying to escape the constant pleasure coursing through her. 

“I’m going to cum soon.” You groan before kissing her Jihyo accepts your kiss and moans as she feels your warm cum flood her pussy. The warmth in her core arouses her, but it’s you ramming your cock into her as your cumming pushes her toward another orgasm. Jihyo is helpless as you continue to pound away at her body. Minutes go by, and Jihyo has another orgasm. 

You want to try a different position and unbind Jihyo’s hands from the headboard before flipping her onto her stomach. You raise her ass into the air and ram your cock back in. You spank Jihyo’s ass drawing a yelp from her. She tries to reach back to grab your arm. “Slow down.” She groans.

“I told you, you had your chance.” You smack Jihyo’s ass again and keep doing it. Her soft ass soon turns red from your repeated strikes. Each smack would make Jihyo yelp in pain. Nearing your second orgasm, your press yourself against her ass, impaling her as you cum again. Jihyo feels more of your cum pour into her, replacing what was spilled. Jihyo crashes to the mattress, unable to hold her body up at all. You fall down on top of her and roll over to the side. “You should’ve just begged.” You groan into her ear before kissing the back of her head. 

[dirtyvulture]

Darkest Knight - Part 4

Natasha Romanoff x Fem!Mutant!Reader

18+ only, read at your own risk

Summary: You meet a pretty woman in a bar...

Word count: 3787

AN: Please enjoy the long-awaited finale!

Click here for Part 3!

Natasha tears after you, light-headed from the sudden change in emotions. She can barely keep up with you down the hall until you suddenly screech to a halt, holding your arm out to block her from going further.

“Y/N–”

“Shh,” you hiss, your hands clenching into fists, the silver, razor-sharp claws bursting out of your knuckles. “Wait here.” You slip silently around the corner and Natasha holds her breath in wait. She hears a man cuss, then the muted blast of a gun, and she cringes when she sees splinters fly from the wall. There’s a few thuds and cut off screams and you suddenly pop back, blood on your hands and the front of your shirt.

“I definitely ruined the professor’s curtains,” you say with a heavy sigh. “Let’s go the other way. Stay close. They’re only here for you.”

Natasha hates being reminded that she is the reason for this chaos and bloodshed, but she knows it’s the truth and you probably didn’t mean to remind her so brashly. She grabs onto the back of your shirt, tailing you closely, her heart beating in her throat. 

“We need to find Storm. Or Jean. Or anyone, really,” you explain, not sure why there hadn’t been a better plan for this inevitable scenario. But you follow your nose, although the air is now muddled with unfamiliar scents. You’re careful to use all your senses to stay on high alert, but it seems like the Red Room agents have learned a thing or two from your past encounters.

A thick white smoke fills the second floor of the mansion and you grope behind you for Natasha’s hand in desperation. You duck into a room.

“Get the windows open,” you tell Natasha. “As wide as you can.”

“Are we going to jump?” she asks fearfully.

“No. But Storm can get a nice breeze in here to push out the smoke.”

Natasha doesn’t question you further but struggles to open the stiff latches of the old windows. You come over to help her, waving plumes of smoke towards the open screens.

“Let’s keep moving.” You make your way through two more rooms uninterrupted. Outside, the sky has taken an ominous gray tone and a powerful wind rips through the trees. “Hey Nat, we should–”

But the moment you turn around and see Natasha being held at gunpoint by a Widow you lose all control. Four male soldiers funnel into the room, blasting lead slugs into your chest and stomach. You don’t even have to unleash your claws as you slump to the ground with a loud thump, your arms accidentally pinning underneath you. You wheeze raggedly, your body pounding in agony. 

“Y/N!” Natasha screams as the Widow drags her out of the room.

Blood leaks out of your mouth as you try to push yourself up, but your body is too weak to cooperate. The three soldiers run up to you, punching and kicking every inch of you they can reach. You curl into a ball as best as you can, humiliated by your inability to fight back. And you’ve lost Natasha. 

“This is for Antonov!” one of the soldiers shouts as he stomps on your head, leaving an imprint of his boot on your cheek. Pain rattles in your head and you can’t even breathe, trying to wait for a break, but they don’t let up.

“You’re a fucking mutant, aren’t you?” Someone grabs your hair and wrenches your head back. You spit a spray of blood and saliva in defense and he leaps back, cursing and kicking. You hear a shotgun reload again, squirming on the floor to free your arms. “Stop moving so I can put you down like the animal you are.” 

You’re not sure how well you’ll take another gunshot at this close range, but you’re about to find out. You close your eyes and brace yourself.

Suddenly, you hear four different screams and feel an immense heat singing the back of your neck. You crack your eyes open to see familiar red laser beams sweep across the room, knocking the soldiers into the walls. Scott stands in the doorway, shoving his glasses back on as he surveys the damage.

“Y/N, are you okay?” You feel Jean’s hands on your back as she helps you up.

“Nat,” you groan. “Where’s Nat?” 

“I thought she was with you,” Scott says.

“No,” you grunt. “They took her.” As you stand, the pain in your gut is more obvious than ever and you almost crumple back to the ground, but Scott comes forward to steady you. 

“We’ll find her,” he says, and despite the differences the two of you have always had, you know you can count on him.

“Go find her,” you say, clutching at your stomach as you feel one of the slugs trying to push its way out of your body. “I’ll catch up.”

“We’re not going to leave you, Y/N,” Jean says.

As frustrating as it is that your teammates won’t leave you, you know they’re coming from a good place. “Okay,” you resign, taking your first unsteady step. “Let’s go.”

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

Natasha feels totally helpless as the Widow drags her away from you. Out in the hall, a group of them swarm her, handcuffing her hands behind her back and forcing her to walk with a hunch, facing the floor as if she doesn’t already know the surroundings. The Widows form a diamond around her, like they would a prisoner, and she wants to laugh at the irony.

“I know none of you have any control over what you’re doing, but please don’t do this–” she starts.

“Shut up, traitor,” a Widow says in Russian, thumping Natasha hard on the back of her head. “Dreykov is waiting at home to kill you himself.”

“After he has some fun with her first,” another one adds and a chuckle spreads through the group as dread turns Natasha’s stomach into knots. 

They force her down a staircase, kicking open a door and dragging her outside. The weather is violent, a complete 180 from how it had been when they had just been watching the students take off in vans. Natasha had been curious how exactly Ororo’s powers worked, but it was obvious they were in full effect now. The wind picked up in great gusts that had the Widows ducking down to their knees, unable to stand at full height without being bowled over. Natasha dropped to her stomach, curling up as the wind spun around them.

“Hey, she’s one of ours!” She hears a man with a Russian accent boom. Fearing a fight will break out between the Widows and the Wolf Spiders, she hunkers into a tight ball and hopes they don’t try tearing her in half. But then she hears the Widows scream and scatter, and peeks up to see Peter, the enormous man she had met previously, his entire body covered in a coating of metal, effortlessly picking up the Widows and throwing them far out into the driveway. Kitty is here too and Natasha swears she’s seeing things when she blinks and Kitty dives through a Widow, turning around and slamming the confused spy onto the ground.

There’s another young man here that Natasha doesn’t immediately recognize. He drops to his knees and splays his hand on the ground, shooting out crackling beams of ice that encase the soldiers’ and stop them in their tracks. 

“We got you, Nat!” Marie is suddenly by Natasha’s side and helps her up. A Widow staggers towards them, but Marie strips off her glove with her teeth and grabs onto the Widow’s exposed hand with her own. The Widow freezes and gasps, tensing up like a board and flopping back onto the ground. “Bobby, over here!”

The boy who could make ice appear out of thin air jogs over and Natasha guesses this must be Marie’s boyfriend. He shadows her and Marie protectively, freezing any of the soldiers that get too close to them.

“Thank you, thank you,” Natasha says, impressed and a little shocked by the powers of these teenagers. Marie and Bobby lead her back into the mansion while Peter and Kitty handle the rest of the Widows. “Have you seen Y/N?” she asks Marie, panic filling her when she thinks about the last time she saw you.

Marie shakes her head. “Don’t worry about Y/N. She’ll be fine. Besides, she told us that we were supposed to protect you at all costs.”

Natasha wants to cry when she hears this. She can’t think of anything she’s done in her life to deserve someone like you. 

Peter and Kitty rush back into the mansion and shut the door. 

“Nat, turn around,” Kitty instructs and Natasha obeys with some confusion. She feels Kitty wrap her hands around the handcuffs and push down; suddenly there is a clatter and Natasha feels her wrists completely freed.

“How did you–”

Kitty waves her off. “All part of being a superhero,”  she says with a wink. 

“We have to move. They’ll find another way in,” Peter says, moving large pieces of furniture in front of the doors.

“Well, they did just get their asses handed to them by a bunch of teenagers, so maybe that’ll make them think twice–” Kitty says.

“We can’t hold them off forever, so what do we do now?” Bobby asks.

“You’ve all done enough.” Everyone whips around to see Professor Xavier roll into the hall, closely accompanied by Ororo. “I see the Danger Room training has been of great use,” Professor Xavier notes. “Excellent job, everyone.”

There is a loud crash from the top of the staircase. Natasha’s heart leaps when she sees you again at the top, although Jean’s arm is around your waist to help you down the steps and a feral pulse of jealousy shoots through her. Natasha runs over and takes the stairs two at a time to push Jean out of the way and take her place next to you.

“I’m fine, Nat, I’m fine,” you insist as she surveys you for any injuries. While you’ve mostly recovered, you are secretly enjoying the doting, even though it’s not really the time for it. You let Natasha help you to the bottom of the stairs, feeling Jean’s cold gaze on your backs but for once relishing in her jealousy. 

“Maybe I should just give myself up,” Natasha says suddenly, her fingers tightening in your side.

“No!” you respond. “Absolutely not.” You would fight the Red Room agents until your entire body gave out if you had to. 

“No one is going anywhere,” Professor Xavier says, and you relax a little when he takes control. 

“But Professor–” Scott starts, and you’re going to smack him upside the head if he suggests that Natasha sacrifice herself. 

“One moment. No one move.”

Natasha presses closer to you and the hairs on the back of your neck stand up in anticipation. You can smell the blood, sweat, and fear as the Red Room soldiers traverse through the empty halls in search of your group. They’ll be bursting in any minute. 

“Y/N,” Natasha whimpers and you quiet her by holding her closer to your body.

“Watch,” you tell her just in time as everyone hears the clamor of armed men and women run into the foyer. But they all freeze mid-movement, guns raised but trigger fingers straight. You can move freely and you leave Natasha to walk up to one, staring down the barrel of his shotgun with a smirk. “Not so cocky now, are we?” you say, even though you know he can’t hear you. Purely out of spite, you release your claws and slash his gun in half.

“Y/N!” Scott admonishes.

“Sorry, it slipped,” you respond.

Professor Xavier’s eyes are screwed shut, his concentration deep as he holds all the Red Room soldiers still. “You will return where you came from,” he says. “You will tell your leader that Natasha Romanoff was not here. You will look elsewhere and you will forget everything you saw here today.”

Natasha feels like she’s in a trance herself as she listens to the professor’s calm voice wash over her. She sees the glazed looks in the Wolf Spiders’ and Widows’ eyes. What kind of power does the professor have to control them like this? She shudders at the thought of what he could do if he wasn’t on their side.

“Now go.” With Professor Xavier’s final words, the Red Room soldiers snap out of their stupor. 

The soldier holding half a gun stares at it in pure shock, then looks back at your face.

“You heard the man,” you snap and he drops the remainder of his gun, spinning around, frantically searching for an exit. There is a stampede as they funnel out the windows and front door that Peter has wrenched open once more. All of you wait until the last Widow darts across the driveway, retreating to their armored tanks and peeling away.

“Couldn’t have done that from the beginning, Professor?” you comment as all of you crowd in the double doorways to watch them flee. The sky brightens back up courtesy of Storm, the sudden winds and darkness earlier drifting away.

“You were all getting a little too comfortable around here,” Professor Xavier teases. “Now Marie, if you’d be so kind as to get the cleaning supplies from under the kitchen sink, I think Y/N has some curtains to clean–”

“Oh hell,” you mutter, as everyone laughs. 

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

Life at the school quickly returns to normal the following week. Any damage done by the X-Men or the Red Room agents is quickly repaired and the students are none the wiser of the true reason for their impromptu weekend getaway. And once everything is settled and well, you and Natasha can finally pick back up where you had left off.

She has you pinned to the bed, her lips frantic and demanding on yours, as her fingers make quick work of the buttons on your shirt. Your head spins as you’re overwhelmed by her scent and taste, jogging your hips up to show her how desperate you are for her. You’re not usually one to beg, but you absolutely mean it when you say you’ll do anything for Natasha Romanoff.

She yanks open your shirt and flattens her palms on your chest, pushing you down harder into the mattress as she leaves a hot trail of kisses across your face and down your neck. The marks she leaves there heal almost instantly and she grumbles in frustration.

“What’s wrong, Nat?” you ask, squeezing her sides.

“You heal too fast,” she says, her cheeks tinging pink.

“It’s okay. Everyone here knows I’m yours.” You hear her heartbeat pick up when you say this. 

“Mine?” she says.

“All yours, darling.”

Gone is the shy, hesitant demeanor the first time you and her were in bed. Natasha takes the lead with a stunning amount of confidence, removing her own shirt and tossing it somewhere in the corner of your room. You swallow hard when you see her exposed flesh, marred with a few faded scars that you want to trace and kiss. 

“It’s okay,” she whispers, so quietly you’re not even sure if you heard correctly or you were imagining it. “You can touch me.”

But you hesitate, reminded of the damage you’ve caused and the lives you’ve taken with your bare hands. Natasha is too pure for you and you’re afraid to ruin her by keeping her in your life. And no matter how much you like her, you don’t know if it’s the right choice to stick around with her.

“Y/N,” Natasha says. “It’s okay.”

“Are you sure?” you reply, your hands frozen to where they are on her waist. “Are you sure you want to…be with me?” You hate how nervous you sound, but you’ve never been around someone who’s given you so many butterflies before.

“Of course.” Natasha grabs onto your hands with hers, interlacing your fingers together. “You’re the first person who showed me I was worthy of being comfortable and safe and…loved.” Your heart beats harder. “I only want to be with you because I trust you and I know you’ll take care of me.”

“Nat…” It takes a lot to get you emotional, and now you feel yourself embarrassingly getting choked up. 

“I love you,” she says, her own voice choking. “And I want to show you how much I love you.”

If you had any doubts before, you don’t now. Both of you remove the remainder of your clothing and you moan when Natasha rests her bare center on your abs and rocks back and forth. The heat against your skin is intoxicating, almost as much as the smell, and you’re tempted to ask her to sit on your face until her legs are shaking. 

But Natasha seems to be taking the lead with some other plans, grabbing your hands again and bringing them to her breasts.

“I said it was okay if you touched me,” she reminds you with a wink. 

“O-Okay,” you stammer, can’t remembering the last time you were this flustered in bed with someone. But the moment is so intimate and exciting, you don’t want to be the one to mess it up. Natasha looks down at you and surveys your body in what you can only describe as lust, and you are secretly thrilled you can make her just as happy as she makes you. You roll your fingers over her nipples until they stiffen and she pants at the attention, her arousal heightening. She holds onto your forearms, squeezing them experimentally as if she can feel your claws housed there, then she leans forward and to grasp onto your biceps. 

An added effect of the metal on your bones meant you were carrying around an additional 200 pounds of weight. While your rapid healing prevented you from completely tearing apart each time you moved, it also kept you in peak physical condition, something Natasha seemed very appreciative of right now. 

Natasha grinds harder on your stomach, the stickiness of her center more apparent than ever, and you can’t deny yourself any longer. You let go of her breasts to put your hands firmly on her hips again. 

“Scoot back, babe. I want to feel you,” you say, delighting in her increased heartbeat. With your hands as guidance, Natasha shimmies her body back until her center is almost above yours. You bend her left leg across your stomach so she can sit at a more comfortable angle. The moment she lowers herself and her heat touches yours, you feel like you’re going to melt into the mattress.

“Oh fuck,” Natasha moans, her arms shaking as she braces herself on your abs and thigh.

“Does that feel good?” you ask, pushing her hips in a gentle rocking motion. You wonder if Natasha can feel the way you’re throbbing against her the way she is against you. The stimulation is so incredible, you’re worried you won’t last much longer and then the moment will be over. 

Natasha can only nod as she tries moving her hips faster, but you force her to slow down and savor the moment.

“F-Fuck, Y/N,” she pants, digging her nails harder into your skin.

“Look at me. Hold my hand,” you demand, offering her one of your own and she squeezes it tightly, shifting her eyes to yours with a little bit of nervousness, but mostly trust and love. “It’s okay,” you assure her. “I got you.”

“Thank you,” she whispers back. You roll your hips to match her rhythm, all your thoughts and worries quietly drifting from your head as you focus on your moment with Natasha. You separate your legs a little wider so she can press her center harder against yours, her wetness and yours creating a slick surface for her to ride on, your entire body buzzing with a rush of adrenaline and endorphins. 

“Just like that,” you guide. “That’s my good girl.” Natasha looks so perfect sitting atop of you, riding you with determination to satisfy you. Your clit throbs when Natasha brushes against it and you can tell she’s close from the way her breathing becomes more and more uneven. But you don’t even care about your own release anymore. You just want her to feel good. 

“I…I think I’m gonna–” But Natasha can’t even get the words out as she cums, in too much ecstasy to even vocalize the pleasure you’ve brought her. You keep moving your hips, so turned on by Natasha’s reaction that it sends you to your own peak. The bliss is so overwhelming you go limp on the bed, and when you finally calm down, you find Natasha curled up on your chest, her face tucked into the crook of your neck. You wrap your arms around her, almost crushing her against you and she whispers for you to hold her closer.

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

“This is nice,” Natasha says as the two of you stand on the balcony. A strange game of volleyball is going on with one student duplicating himself to play on both sides, and another with an enormous pair of what she can only describe as angel wings, flies high into the air for a deadly spike. 

“Yeah, it is,” you agree, tightening your arms around her waist from behind. 

“I know they aren’t looking for me, per se, but I know this bubble of safety won’t last forever,” she says.

“Nat, I told you, you’ll always be safe with me.”

“I know.” She turns around in your arms to look at you. “That’s why I want you to come with me.” You tilt your head in confusion. “We’re going to find where the Red Room is, and take them down from the inside.”

“No one knows where the Red Room is,” you say, not realizing how dumb it sounds when you remember the kind of people you have on your side. “I mean, I’m sure the professor could pull some strings and…” You pause. “That’s way too dangerous, Nat.”

“Will you come with me?”

You think it’s a silly idea to track and take down an entire organization infamous for producing deadly spies and soldiers. But you know how important this is to Natasha. Maybe you could even talk some of the others into coming for backup, but you know her mind is already set, whether or not you accompany her.

“Of course I will.” You kiss her in confirmation, loving the way she seems to melt in your arms every time you touch her. “Whenever you’re ready.”

---------------------------------------------------------------------------

AN: A happy ending as promised!

I would absolutely love to continue writing this AU, so maybe I'll come by soon with something. Thanks for reading! Please leave likes, comments, and reblogs! 🥰

Update: I wrote a one-shot sequel to this fic, which you can find here. Happy reading!

[burntheedges-updates]

over again, chapter 1

This is my updates-only blog! Follow me at @burntheedges

Joel Miller x f!reader

summary: you fell in love with Joel Miller in Austin, Texas, in 2001, but you thought you lost him and your whole family in 2003 when the world turned upside down. now it's 2024, and you find the surprise of your life waiting for you in Jackson, Wyoming. or, five times you and Joel fell deeper in love, on both sides of the apocalypse (and one time you did something about it)18+ minors DNI chapter tags/warnings: fluff, flirting, light angst, cursing, no use of y/n, no description of reader (see note below), smallish age difference (reader is 26, Joel is 32/almost 33 when they meet in 2000) (small for this fandom, anyway) (the smut comes later, y'all, we're just getting started here) a/n: Well, here we go! This is part 1. This fic is completely finished. It’s a 5+1 and for some of the 5 parts I’ll post them together (on Sundays) and for some I’ll post them separately (on Sundays and Wednesdays) just due to length. Obviously I'm posting this one early (lol). I’ll tell you whatever the schedule is for the different parts. I've paid a lot of attention to the reader's description in this fic. I've avoided skin color, hair type, body shape/size descriptions, and even clothing (except for one or two spots where you are specifically wearing jeans and boots). You are vaguely shorter than Joel. He does not run his fingers through your hair, and you feel the blood rush to your face or your face heat, but you don't turn red or pink. Please tell me if you notice anything I missed - I want this to be as inclusive as possible. word count: 1724 (for this part) series main post & chapter list | series playlist (w/ plot-related mix) ao3 | chapter 2

Chapter 1: Meet Cute

Jackson, Early Winter, 2023

You’ve been heading northwest from somewhere in Kansas, thinking you’ve never bothered going out this way, even Before, so why not? It’s been months since you saw another person. You’re not even sure the last time you spoke out loud. 

You blame the lengthy isolation for how easily they get the jump on you. 

It's just after dawn when you're rudely awakened - at first, you’re not sure why, but a second kick to your hip sends you scrambling to sit up in your sleeping bag, which is tangled around your legs. Looking around as you struggle, you realize you’re surrounded by people on foot and on horseback. Every single one of them is pointing a gun at you. You glance to the side and realize your backpack along with anything possibly useful inside of it has been kicked away from you. The woman who kicked you has a steely look in her eye that reminds you, in your half awake state, of the last boss you had Before. 

“State your business.” As she speaks you notice the two men closest to her start to fan out a bit, but you don’t dare look away from her.

“I’m just passing through, I’ve been looking for a good place to spend the winter.”

Or, that’s what you would have said, if not for the voice from your past shouting your name in shock just as you open your mouth. “No goddamn way, is that really you?”

You think you must be hallucinating, because everyone you knew Before is dead, but then Tommy fucking Miller pushes his way in front of the woman who spoke. For a moment you can’t do more than stare at each other — him with his gun hanging limply in his right hand, you with your legs still tangled in your godforsaken sleeping bag. Then you launch into motion and start to kick it away as you find your voice. It comes out shaky. Or maybe you’re shaking all over.

“Tommy? But — you’re alive? Where the hell have you been? Wait, are Joel and—“

Tommy cuts you off as he pulls you to your feet and into a tight hug. “Holy shit, we thought you were dead. Holy fucking shit.”

“We? Tommy wait, are they—“

Tommy pulls back, keeping hold of your shoulders as he looks you in the eye. He’s grinning, his eyes wandering all over your face. “He’s alive, sunshine. Or he was when he came through here about a month ago. We’re expecting them back in the spring.”

You can feel your heart racing and your whole body feels hot and tingly. You’re overwhelmed. You didn’t think you could still feel hope like this. It’s terrifying, but you have to know. “He’s- Them? They’re both alive? Sarah?”

You know the answer before he even says anything. Tommy’s face falls, his eyes drop from yours, and you feel it like a sucker punch, as bad as it was the first time around. Your knees give out even though this is what you’ve known, or tried to convince yourself must be true, for 20 years. Tommy falls gently with you to the ground.

Your baby girl. “Oh god, Sarah. And Joel, he must have been—“

“Yeah, sunshine. He thought he lost you both. It wasn’t… well. It wasn’t good.” 

You’re starting to feel numb. You have no idea what your face is doing right now, but judging by Tommy’s, it isn’t pretty. 10 minutes ago you were alone in the apocalypse, and suddenly you’re face-to-face with your almost-brother-in-law and you know, without a doubt, that your fiancé hasn’t been dead this whole time. Is this shock? It’s been 20 years since you felt a shock like this. Since you felt anything like this. 

“Tommy, I… I need to sit down.”

“Well, you are sitting down, sunshine. But get up, gather your stuff. You can come to town with us. Stay as long as you’d like.” You nod, unsteady, and Tommy guides you carefully towards what must be his horse. 

The day passes in a daze. You think you might actually be hallucinating, or still back in your sleeping bag, dreaming, because a whole, functional town? A commune, and a house they’re just going to let you have as your own? A real community? With your only remaining family, miraculously alive? It’s impossible. You float through the rest of the day and find yourself sitting on a bed in a house with indoor plumbing that somehow belongs to you, having just eaten real food in the company of the family you thought you lost 20 years ago.

You give up and go to sleep. (What else are you going to do?)

...

As you settle into life in Jackson, the knowledge that you might see Joel — your Joel, any day now — never leaves your thoughts. It’s like a drum beat at the back of your mind that only repeats his name, marking time every hour of every day. You don’t know how you’ll prepare yourself for it. How could you? You haven’t seen him in 20 years. Anything could be different. You can so easily picture him with a daughter, but it’s Sarah in your mind, not Ellie, who Tommy has told you a bit about. Every time you open those old wounds that you’ve done your best to bury it hurts like the first time. Would he still want you? Still know you? Do you still know him? Would Ellie like you? You can’t imagine not knowing Joel, or Joel not knowing you, but it’s been 20 years and people change. You’ve changed, after all. Some days you barely recognize yourself. 

You express these fears to Tommy once, but he only laughs and says his brother may be stupid but he’s not stupid enough not to want you. It’s reassuring and rude, so, exactly like Tommy. At least some things never change.

The day Joel Miller walks back into Jackson you happen to be standing on the road near the gates, talking to Tommy, and you swear he spots you in less than 5 seconds. It’s like you can’t help but look to each other first, even when you don’t know the other is alive, even when you haven’t seen each other in 20 years. You’d know the shape of him anywhere and your eyes have never stopped looking for it, never stopped catching on a set of shoulders, a cocked hip, a tilted head, only to be disappointed when it faded like a mirage. When the person in front of you didn’t fit the hole he left behind. It hurt every time. Maybe it’s been the same for him. 

Joel looks like he’s seen a ghost, and you have no idea what expression is on your face, but the moment you lock eyes all you see is the moment you first met, almost 24 years ago, like a film negative laid on top of what’s really in front of you. He’s older, of course, but so are you, and he’s still the most handsome man you’ve ever seen.

He steps towards you and whispers your name like a prayer.

Joel fucking Miller. 

Austin, Summer 2000

It was a Saturday morning in late summer, so not yet the hottest part of the day, but not comfortable, either. Your belongings were steadily moving from the truck to your new rental house under your somewhat careful supervision when movement from the house next door caught your eye. You looked up just as one of the guys from the moving company almost dropped your nightstand off the back of the truck, distracting you from the sight of a young girl, maybe about 10, rocketing out of the house next door and down her front steps. She was wearing a bright green soccer uniform.

By the time your nightstand had been righted and you looked back towards your neighbors’ house, she’d made her way to the bushes between your driveways, standing on her tiptoes and taking in all of the commotion. She met your eye and grinned. You grinned back as she called, “Hi, new neighbor!” 

You walked over, stopping on the other side of the bush to introduce yourself. “Hi there, neighbor.” 

It didn’t seem possible, but she grinned even wider. “I’m Sarah, that’s my dad.”

You looked up, realizing there was a man coming down their steps towards the two of you — the most attractive man you’d ever seen in your life. He was tall, with broad shoulders and the look of a man who spent a lot of time in the sun, tan lines peeking out of his shirt sleeves. His brown curls were a bit messy and his shoulders and strong arms drew your eye like a magnet. You caught yourself giving him a quick once over and felt your face start to warm, embarrassed, but when you met his eyes again you caught him doing the same to you. You realized you were both caught and you smiled, introducing yourself. 

“Nice to meet you, darlin’. Joel Miller, and I think you’ve met Sarah.” You felt your face turn hot at the endearment but you knew he probably didn’t mean anything by it. Southern hospitality and all. “Welcome to the neighborhood.”

You’d opened your mouth to respond when you were rudely interrupted by a crashing noise from the moving truck behind you, and you whirled around to see a box on its side on the ground that definitely should not have been. You glanced back at your neighbors as you excused yourself. “It’s great to meet you! Sorry, I need to see what that was.”

They shooed you along before you could even finish your sentence, reassuring you that they understood. “Let me know if anything broke, darlin,’ I’m pretty handy, could probably fix it. It’d be my pleasure.” He smiled at you a bit, just on one side, edging towards a smirk, and you did your best not to stare at his mouth. “Deal,” you agreed, grinning. Both you and Joel seemed unable to draw your eyes away from each other. You were stuck, pinned in place under his gaze until Sarah tugged on his arm and dragged him towards their truck. “Dad, we’re gonna be late!”

The view from the back was just as nice as the front. 

...

a/n: ch 2 is up!

taglist: @morgaussy

[cambion-companion]

I have a request if you’re still taking them :)

Something with reader who knows how to fight and spars Aemond a bit and ends getting injured somehow (perhaps sparring Aemond 👀) and doesn’t tell him about it and he doesn’t know till reader collapses or something

Hope you’re having a lovely day! I love your fics :)

Hi guys! This is a great idea; hope you like what I made! ((His face in this gif hurts my heart))

Word count: 1156

Masterlist here

Aemond x wife!reader | Injury

You let out a sharp curse, throwing your body to the side as your husband’s sword arced down at you. Adrenaline coursed through your veins as your feet skidded on the soft earth, barely keeping your balance as you dodged yet another blow.  

“Seven hells, Aemond!” You half-shouted, backing away yet further as he advanced, his one violet eye calculating your defensive stance. “Why must you always insist on sparring with real weapons?”

“It.”

 You blocked a blow to your right side.

“Builds.”

You ducked another aimed for your shoulder.

“Character.”

Aemond accentuated each word with a flourishing attack, driving you back until you made contact with the stone wall of the courtyard.

Your swords met, with a ringing of metal, as you intercepted him yet again, your weapons scraping against each other as you struggled.  Grunting with effort, you raised a booted foot and kicked at Aemond’s midriff, pushing him away enough to get in a few attacks of your own, though each he deflected with ease.

“There won’t be character to build if one of us gets stabbed through the throat, not that it would be you of course.”  You eased up on your offense, panting to catch your breath.

“No better way to prepare for the actual experience of combat, Y/N.”  Aemond chided, twirling his sword expertly as he waited for you to recover a bit. “The harder we train, the easier to defeat an actual enemy.”

He rushed you then, catching you completely and literally off-guard.  Blood raced through your veins, your body hot and sweaty from the exertion of fending off his rapid strikes.  In desperation, you leapt toward him, casting yourself to the ground, rolling on your shoulder to come upright behind him, and taking a swing of your own at his unguarded back.

Your sword made contact, though you were sure to hit him with the flat of the blade.

“Very good!”  Aemond lowered his sword, giving you a cursory look of approval before returning it to the weapons table.  “You’re improving significantly.”  He spoke with his back still turned to you, his thick silver hair messily falling down his back. “Perhaps now you see the wisdom in training with sharpened weapons.”

“Aemond…I-”

“We can move on to dual wielding next, as you were so eager to begin last week.” Your husband continued, not hearing your small voice, wiping the moisture off the metal blade and sheathing it in a leather scabbard. “Would you prefer a shorts word to begin with, perhaps?”

“Y/N?”

He turned to see why you had grown so silent, his eye widening in alarm as he took in your blanched face.

“Aemond.  I don’t feel so great.”  You removed your hand from where it had been pressing against your thigh, your palm coated in your own red blood.  The sight sent your vision spinning, as you swayed alarmingly on the spot.

You registered the crunch of gravel as Aemond ran to your side, scooping you into his arms as your knees gave way.  

As he hurried up the stone steps to the Keep, pain began blossoming in your leg as the numbness from all the exercise began wearing off.  You began groaning softly as it mounted, Aemond soothing you as best he could while hastening to the maester’s quarters.

You looked down to access the damage, seeing the torn fabric of your tunic pants, the thick blood seeping across the fabric, dripping onto the stone floor.  That’s when you fell limp, you head lolling back, as you fainted, heedless of Aemond calling your name.

—

You were aware of soft voices, the feel of warm blankets cocooning you, a dull ache in your right thigh.  Your eyes felt heavy, your throat parched.

“She should be right as rain in no time, my prince, there is no cause for worry I assure you.”  You heard the voice of an elderly man speaking near where you lay upon soft cushions. “It was a superficial scratch, she’s lost some blood, yes, but I imagine the sight of the wound is what truly caused her to lose consciousness.”

“When will she wake?”  This time, it was Aemond’s voice, sounding strained with worry.  Something you’d never heard before.

You made an effort to speak, a garble of pain escaping your lips as you shifted, opening your eyes.  Aemond crossed to kneel by your side, his fingers intertwining with yours laying upon your belly.

“Y/N, how are you feeling?”  His eye roved your features, stress evident upon his angular face.

“Thirsty.”  You rasped out, grateful as the old maester handed you a wooden cup full of spring water.

Aemond helped you sit up as you gulped it down, feeling instantly much better.

“Water, food and rest will be the quickest way to recover.”  The maester refilled your cup. “The bandages will need to be changed twice a day; I’ll give you the healing salve in just a moment.”

You looked up at the wizened man gratefully. “Thank you.”

“Of course, my dear.”  He shuffled to a wooden table, corking a small glass bottle. “If I might suggest.” Turning to the prince, he placed the ointment in Aemond’s hand. “Training with blunted weapons from now on, your highness.”

Aemond nodded briefly, thanking the maester before escorting him out of the room.  He was at your side again in two long strides, bending to places a fervent kiss to your temple. “I was foolish, Y/N, and you paid the price.”  He pressed his forehead to yours, his eye fluttering closed, brow furrowed. “I cannot stand the thought of you in pain because of me, tell me how I can help you.”

You closed your own eyes, the salve that had previously been applied taking away the edge of the pain in your leg. “Perhaps a nice foot rub would be a good start to your penance, my husband.”

“Hmm.” Aemond pulled back to read your expression, a tentative smile tugging at his lips. “That seems a small price for me to pay. Perhaps you can come up with more ideas in the meantime.”

He pulled your stockings off, rubbing circles into your aching feet, his hands feeling warm on your chilly skin.  “You can bring me my meals, read to me…” You smiled slyly over at him. “Kiss me occasionally.”  

He shook his silver head fondly, smiling with you. “That all goes without saying, Y/N.”

“Telling me how sorry you are and that I am always right wouldn’t go amiss either.”  You hummed a contented sound, snuggling deeper into your blankets as Aemond began massaging up your calves.

He placed a kiss to your knee. “I’ll do all that and more, my love.  Again, I am truly sorry for being so reckless with the one person in this world I couldn’t bear to lose.”

The sadness in his voice had you sitting up, despite his protestations to remain reclined.  You leant forward, cupping his chin in your hand. “Oh Aemond.”  You ran your thumb across his full bottom lip. “I’m not going anywhere I promise you.  You’re stuck with me for a while yet, my dragon.”

[redcoralpot]

Smudged (4)

Rodrick Heffley x FTM Punk Reader

Warnings: NSFW joke and mentions of homophobia

Summary: The idea was bull, but it was worth a shot, you supposed. That is, if Rodrick can stay focused.

-

“I need you to do a favor for me,” Rodrick kicked his foot against the asphalt.

You could still hear the joyful chatter of children reuniting with their parents in the background, cars speeding past you, causing strands of hair to come loose, “No.”

“No? What do you mean no?”

“I’ve heard enough from Heather.”

His eyes snapped towards you, wide and attentive, for once, “What’d she say?”

“Obviously not something positive.”

Rodrick shrugged, his attitude uncaring once again. You huffed and turned away, fully planning on leaving him alone on that sidewalk. However, you only were able to take a few steps forward before a hand roughly grabbed at your back. Cursing under your breath, you whirled around to face the boy, squinting.

“Hey, hey, I’m being serious. I need your help, here, dude.”

“You could’ve fooled me;” you rolled your eyes, but didn’t remove his hand, “I won’t do your homework for you. Leave that in middle school, with Greg.”

Rodrick’s hand slid down your arm before he pulled it to his chest, “Actually– fuck, nevermind. Okay, that won’t work on you, but you’re a valuable resource with this!”

“And how is that?”

Instead of answering, he took a step closer, and waved a slip of paper in your face. You flinched back, allowing it to fall from his fingertips into your open palm. Rodrick was silent, snickering, and tapping his foot as he gleefully watched you crack it apart. Inside were printed words; his project slip, awfully crumpled. Two words, three if you count the category. Music; punk subculture.

He smirked, “It’s a research project. What better way than to talk to the only punk guy in town?”

“If you’re so sure, then what about the collaboration rule?”

“C’mon, nobody’ll ever know!” You could’ve sworn he almost whined, moving back.

You said, “I won’t fail ‘cause you’re reckless; I’m sure there’s another punk guy somewhere.”

Rodrick made a face, “There’s none that I know.”

“That’s too bad for you, then,” you replied. Kicking a rock towards him, you backed up, towards the road. He huffed, taking steps forward as much as you moved away. You could tell that he was getting desperate for your help.

“How about a trade? I help with yours, you help with mine!”

You paused, causing the drummer to smack face first into you, knocking your foreheads together. The two of you hissed, with Rodrick rubbing the wounded spot with a scrunched up, pained face. When he finally let his hand fall away, you could see an angry red spot in its place, and yours probably did not look much better.

“I’ll think about it.”

He snickered, hitting your arm, “Hah, think.”

“Heather was right, you’re a cornball.”

“Fuck you,” he groaned.

You shook your head in response to his complaints, “Deal with it, Heffley. I have your number, I can harass you with it all day.”

A small boy, about Holly’s height, if not shorter, appeared in the distance. He was running towards the both of you fast– well, as fast as a middle schooler can go on those little legs. Beside him, a chubbier, ginger child was struggling to keep up as his counterpart shouted, bringing his hands up to his mouth. Rodrick grew tenser, a kind of grumpier expression clouding his features. Ah, that would be Greg. Chuckling, you made the decision to instead flee the scene, not wanting to be a part of their petty sibling rivalry.

“What do you want, turd?” Rodrick sneered, gesturing beside him, “I was in the middle of something.”

“You promised you’d take Rowley and I home!”

“That means you have to be–” He took in the blank spot where you once were, “...patient.” “I’m gonna kill you the next time Mom’s not home, literally kill you!”

-

You fished your flip phone out of your pocket, slouching on your pillows with your socks only half-off. When the list of conversations popped up on the small, bright screen, you paused. Were you seriously contemplating this? Directly going against the rules to work with Rodrick of all people; you might as well have cheated with Daniel and that would have been a better idea. However– you shifted in your bed, kicking your socks across the room– Daniel knows nothing about drums. In fact, he talks about flutes more than any other instrument, as girly as his father calls it. Rodrick was better at it than anyone else in this shitty little town, so how bad could it truly be?

Against your better judgment, you typed in the number pattern printed on the invitation slip into a new contact, naming it accordingly. You held your breath, typing your very first message; “This is Heather’s brother.”

Your phone was smashed into your sheets and you hugged your pillow to your chest, peeking over at the device. It took a few moments, minutes really, before it vibrated against the cloth. Yet, you didn’t reach for it at first. This was your last chance, your last chance to refuse this and possibly not ruin your entire senior record, and so you hesitated. Curiosity got the better of you, though. “Trade or no trade?” 

Taking a deep breath, you responded, “Trade. Come to my house.”

Heather would be so mad at you for this, you thought as you set aside your phone to the side and hopped up. Most of the time would be spent in your room, and you would hate for it to be as messy as it is now when a guest is over, despite the fact that Rodrick seemed to lack standards for hygiene. Perhaps he only showered once a week, if you were lucky. Regardless, you half-heartedly made your bed and dumped a few garments of clothes that had littered your carpet down a hamper, hidden in your closet. Your violin and electric guitar were both leaning carefully on your wall, safe from harm in their cases. Your desk was scattered with markers, laces, and patches that you had neglected sewing onto your jacket. It wouldn’t hurt to stack them neatly, you reasoned.

Your room still had a certain chaos to it despite your efforts, and really, you weren’t looking to fix it. It had personality, it reflected you, just as Heather’s more tidy space reflected her personality. Books lined the shelves underneath your desk; one that you didn’t spend too much money on. A door, glass, a mat, and two near-height shelves as support gave you one easily; you refused to let your mother buy you a “proper” desk. The works were mostly fiction or topics regarding punk history, so you selected a spare few that you did not care too much about in order to lend them to Rodrick.

About ten minutes in, halfway through the time you expected Rodrick to arrive, you freshened up your makeup in the bathroom mirror, paying extra attention to your eyeliner. Just to one up the guy. You smudged it with your pointer finger, before lining your waterline with a matching black. Even so, you almost poked your eye as you were finishing the right side of your face when you heard a clang!

A faint, “Uh– shit, my fault.”

You lifted the lace curtains with a non-blackened finger to peer outside, only to be greeted by the sight of the devil’s gleaming white van, a fresh dent in the front. An angelic statue that had decorated your family’s driveway was now laying on the ground; a puzzled Rodrick above it. A sigh forced itself from your throat. Your eyes followed his figure as he awkwardly tried fixing the abused statue, before sauntering up to the door with a fist raised. It didn’t take long to bound downstairs and open the front door before he abused that, too.

“We have a doorbell, you know?” you stated, unimpressed, “Come in.”

He whistled a short tune as he took in the rooms around him, “So this is Heather’s house. I was starting to think I’d never get to see it!”

“You aren’t here to see Heather, you’re here for research. Don’t talk to her, don’t listen to her, and don’t even look at her; she’ll choke you out and then me.”

Rodrick bent his head in order to see through the crack in her bedroom doorway, but you took a hold of his ear and pulled him away; “Okay, okay, fuck!”

You dragged him through your own door, where you shut it and finally released the drummer to let him take in his surroundings. Pushing him forward slightly with the back of your elbow, you lean on your bed, taking a good look at him. He flicked his eyes towards you– probably scared you were going to rip his ear off if he moved. A humorous expression to see on such an arrogant guy, sure, but you stayed put, watching him. Rodrick must have taken that as a thumbs up, as he was immediately attracted to your desk. He chose to shuffle through your pins first.

“Woah, you made these?”

“No.”

He read the miniature printed names, “Do they mean anything?”

“They’re bands.”

“Well, yeah, I totally recognized them.” He made a show of pointing out his eye makeup.

“Sure–”

He interrupted you, something seemingly catching his eye, “Wait, is that a…”

“Ah, crap, I thought it was something else.” It was a magazine, something you didn’t care enough about to hide away, and he seemed to snicker about it, “If it was, it’d be full of girls.”

You looked over his shoulders, before snatching it out of his hands, much to his offense, “I’m not into that kind of stuff.”

“You sure? I have one you can borrow if you really need it!”

“You’re weird,” you huff, throwing a small book at him.

“Positive?”

“Get to work.”

Rodrick finally sat on your bed, overly casual. You plopped the pile that contained your collection of punk media in his lap, much to his dismay. Christ, if this was still just some big scheme to get his dick wet, you swore you would stuff a leaf in his mouth.

The first book was all about the origins and meaning of such a subculture; the most important subject for his research. You had hoped he valued that, but as he squinted at the text, his eyebrows pushed together.

He tossed it back into your lap, and you threw it back, like some sort of cursed hot potato, “Dude, I don’t know some of those words!”

“How have you gotten to senior year like this?”

“Can’t you just summarize it?” It landed between your legs, to which you looked at him unimpressed.

Rodrick seemed put off by this, looking down at your lap and back up, “Uh, do you have anything to take notes with?”

“...No.”

“Jesus Christ, take a pen off my desk; take the whole book, why don’t you!”

“That’s fine with me.”

You cursed under your breath, even praying to whatever deity was out there to smite the boy in front of you with all their might. You flipped a page, to the first chapter, sneaking a glimpse at him from behind your eyelashes. Rodrick’s foot was wagging back and forth from its position under his left thigh, not even aware of your dilemma. Or he could be painfully aware of it, and just wanted to push more of your buttons by acting innocent. Yeah, that sounds more like him, you thought as you cleared your throat.

“Punk style started gaining headway, aka popularity, in the mid-‘70s in America, with the UK catching the spark a little later on.”

He sneered, “Hah, caught the spark.”

“Knowing that you know enough about history to make a nerd joke horrifies me.”

“I wasn’t born yesterday,” he huffed.

“Sure,” you continued, “anyway, music was a huge part of this new era, but not the only thing included in it.”

Rodrick said, “I can see that.”

“It had fashion, dance, even a mindset to it.”

Glancing at your boots, currently collecting dust in the closet, you searched your mind for items you personally knew were iconic. He had seen you in your clothes, but based on his earlier comments, Rodrick knew next to nothing about the articles. He did not need to know the very deep parts of punk fashion, not for that project. Truth be told, you honestly didn’t want him to know the codes and such related to more personal matters. That knowledge was only for people who would understand, and you lacked that faith with Rodrick.

“You’ve seen me in my boots, leather jacket, and such, yeah?”

“Duh. That sparkly belt, too.” The drummer tapped his temple.

“It’s spiked.”

He shrugged, “Potato, patata–”

Rodrick was thankfully interrupted by a muffled shout from your mother, who slammed the front door shut, “I brought home dinner!”

“Fuck, yeah, I’m hungry,” he cheered, hopping off the bed and down the stairs before you had the opportunity to tackle him.

“Ah, crap.”

Heather peeked out of her bedroom, slowly turning to look at you with a withering look in her eyes. Your shoulders sagged as you saw a snarl take its form on her lips; defeat.

-

[oreolemur]

Regret- Sukuna Fanfic

Sitting in the front of the classroom, Yuji Itadori never went a day in his High School life without falling victim to your torture. He never said a word to you, nor anyone in fact. He stuck to himself, avoiding any type of conflict that happened. You didn’t have a good reason to bully him, but his coward-like aura attracted you. Everyday, he put up with your assaults. He was good at keeping his emotions stable. He was sweet, but it was all an act. There was something inside of him that wanted you to pay, to hurt, and to suffer. It was a never ending bickering between Itadori and his curse. No one knew about Sukuna, and he wanted to keep it that way. No matter how many times you hurt him, Yuji wanted to protect you, but lately, his tolerance began to fade. He wasn’t capable of hurting anyone, let alone a girl. Your bullying tactics became too much for him, causing him to cough up blood, and even pass out occasionally. 

Angered, he planned to get his revenge. Nothing too harmful, but just enough to convince you to leave him alone. Yuji followed you into the locker room after your soccer practice. His curse, Sukuna, supported his idea. “About time you have some fun. Show that bitch who’s boss”. 

He watched and waited until you were vulnerable enough to attack. He carried a knife with him, in case things didn’t go well. “Hopefully, I won’t have to use this”, he glared at it in his hand. Days prior to this, he was so sure that he was ready. Ready to hurt you, to mess with you as you did him. Yuji felt as if he reached his limit. He saw you undress, knowing you were alone and that you were at his mercy. However, he was beginning to chicken out. 

“What the fuck is wrong with you? She has her back turned. Go in, now”, Sukuna said. Walking away, you headed towards the shower room. “Stop being a pussy and go!”. The boy’s heart pounded, making him turn around to run away. “I can’t do it. I can’t do it”, he cried. Before he stepped foot out the exit, Sukuna took the opportunity to switch. “If you won’t do it, I will”. He tightened his grip around the knife, grinning at the thought of him hurting you.

Turning off the water, you reached over to grab your towel. “You won’t be needing that”, a voice said. Looking over your shoulder, you saw who you thought was Yuji. “What the fuck? Get out!”, you shouted. Sukuna stood behind the shower’s divider, “Why? Can’t a guy enjoy some nudity”. You were caught off guard by the deepness of his tone. The black markings on his face and arms also caught your attention. “What happened to your face? And why are you here? Is this some lame attempt to make me afraid of you?”, you scoffed.

Wrapping up, you grabbed your things, proceeding to walk out. “Next time think of a better plan”, you stared at him as you went by. Before making it pass, Sukuna took hold of your arm, “That mouth of yours, fix it, or I’ll fix it for you”. The two of you side-eyed each other. You dropped your toiletry bag, swinging your arm to hit his face,“Who the fuck-”. Using his speed, Sukuna stopped you. “I’m warning you right now, act stupid and I will break you”. Irritated, you ignored his words, lifting your leg to kick him.

“Women”, he sucked his teeth, grabbing your leg, making you fall. Your back hit the floor hard, gasping as you attempt to sit up. Sukuna pushed you back down with his foot, placing it on your neck. He watched you struggle, adding pressure to your throat. “Apologize”, he demanded. Clawing at his calf, you refused. “Eat shit, bitch”. He raised an eyebrow, enjoying how much you were begging for him to hurt you more. “Get off me now, or I’ll make you regret it”, you threatened. Sukuna smiled, moving his foot. He stood back, allowing you to get up.

“Apologize”, he repeated. Flicking him off, he angrily punched you in the stomach. “See, usually I would’ve cut your finger off, but I’m feeling a little nice today”. He kicked you over and over again. The white floor tiles began to stain with your blood. Sukuna stopped for a brief moment, observing your nude figure. “Change of plans, Yuji”, he thought.

Unbuckling his belt, he bent down, taking a fist full of your hair. Your mouth was bloody, and you struggled to keep your eyes open. “Since you want to open your mouth so much, why not put it to good use”. He slid his boxers down, letting his cock spring up. Surprised, you tried to pull away. “Stop fighting. As a woman it’s your job to please me”. He pushed your head down towards his shaft, but you kept your mouth shut. “The one time I want you to open up and you keep it closed”, he pinched your nose. Fighting back, you tried your hardest not to give in. “Stop being so stubborn”, he gritted.

Your body began to jerk, forcing you to open your mouth. Before you could take a breath, Sukuna shoved himself inside. “Think of it as a lollipop. Only this time, you have to suck the whole thing”. His thrusts were hard, making your nose hit his pelvis. “It’s not fun being a victim is it?”, the curse laughed. He felt you gagging on his cock, pleasuring him even more. He fucked your throat more instensely, working to get his orgasm. “As a thank you, I’ll give you a little gift”. He held your head in place, releasing his cum. “Swallow every last drop”. You struggled to keep the warm liquid in. Your cheeks swell as you try to hold it. Letting go, Sukuna pulled out, fixing his pants. You took the chance to spit out his cum, attempting to escape. 

“What a waste”, he sighed, throwing Yuji’s knife at your back. “Fuck!”, you yelled. Desperately reaching to get the weapon, Sukuna grabbed your arms, pulling them behind you. He stomped on your back, resting his foot on you. Pissing him off, he yanked both of your limbs, dislocating them. Your painful cries filled the room. He bent down to get the knife, throwing it aside. “All you had to do was swallow. You’re more hard headed than I thought”. He dropped your arms, grabbing your waist to flip you over.

Looking into your eyes, Sukuna became aroused by your tearful face. He wanted to hurt you more, to hear you scream, and make you beg. He right hooked your face, laughing at the blood you spat out. He continued, watching your eyes slowly close. Sukuna stopped, “I’m not done with you”. Using his healing ability, he reversed some of the damage, only to give you more suffering.

Once you were awake and able to move, it was too late for you to run. Sukuna used Yuji’s belt as a restraint around your wrist. Your back was arched and your knees sore. “Doggy style suits a bitch like you”, the King of curses sent a hard slap to your damp ass. He slid two of his fingers in you, thrusting it gently for good measure. You heard him chuckle, feeling the tip of his cock at your entrance. With one push, he penetrated your walls, enjoying how tight you were. He used your waist for support, fucking you roughly. Your pussy couldn’t adjust to his size, “P-please”, you uttered. Sukuna ignored you. “Y-Yuji. I-I’m sorry”. You wailed against the cold floor, feeling weak. The harder Sukuna went, the more your cervix began to break.

You begged and apologized repeatedly, catching the curse’s attention. Stopping, he turned you over on your back. “Repeat that”, he demanded. He spread your legs, putting them both over his shoulders. “I’m sorry”, you cried. He grinned at your pathetic apology, “You're sorry?”. You shook your head,”Y-yes”. He leaned into you, making himself go deeper. You whimpered, placing your hands on his chest.

“For what exactly?”, he grunted. You felt his breath hit the side of your neck. “B-bullying you”. Sukuna still wasn’t satisfied,”Tell me more”. He took hold of your chin, forcing you to look at him. “What did you do? Why are you apologizing?”. Staring deep into each other’s eyes, you finally noticed that it wasn’t Yuji you were talking to. “I-I’m sorry for hurting you. I’m sorry for calling you names and beating you. I’m-”. Sukuna’s slow hard thrust, cut you off. “Don’t stop”, he ordered. “I’m sorry for making you bleed and pass out. I promise I’ll leave you alone”. Believing you, he climaxed, allowing every drop of him to spill inside of your womb.

He undid the restraints, walking away to dress himself. He left you on the floor, sore and in pain. “Did you have to be that rough with her?”, Yuji asked. Sukuna looked back at you and smirked. “At least she won’t mess with you again”.

[mandos-mind-trick]

Kinktober Day 4 - Teratophilia

Summary: He saves you. You offer him your thanks. 

Pairing: Krrsantan x reader

Warnings: NSFW, 18+, Reader is a stripper essentially, attempted assault, brief blood and gore, minor character death, interspecies sex, size difference, biting, licking, fingering, size kink, scratching, squirting. 

A/N: If you're here, you know. 😏 As usual, heed the warnings. If it's not for you, moving on to something else is literally the easiest thing in the world.

MASTERLIST

Walking home late is always a risk. Even with the new Daimyo’s attempts to clean up the streets of Mos Espa, walking alone at night is dangerous. Especially for someone like you. You’re good at keeping alert, good at watching your back. 

Sometimes it’s not enough. 

You notice the figure following you from the moment you leave the cantina. You should have gone back in, should have waited for someone else to walk with you, or waited until daylight. You were tired, though, and ready to get home. You decided to risk it, weaving through the streets in an attempt to lose the man following you. He’s probably just a drunk patron, hoping to get lucky now that you weren’t under the constraints of the cantina’s rules. 

Well, you weren’t wrong. 

You know you’ve messed up when you turn the corner into the alley and an arm shoots out, pinning you against the side of the building. Your breath is knocked from your lungs at the force of the hit, effectively stunning you. 

There’s two of them. They reek of cheap alcohol as they crowd you in. 

“Don’t tell me you were trying to escape us, pretty thing.” One says, gently stroking your cheek as you struggle to regain your breath. 

“We just wanted to chat.” The other says, leaning his arm next to your head. “We liked your show so much, we wanted an encore. A...private show if you will.” 

You attempt to swallow the fear welling up in your throat. “I don’t do private shows.” You curse how badly your voice shakes. “You’ll be luckier in a brothel.” 

“No,” The first one says, pushing you back against the wall as you attempt to slip out between them. “You misunderstand us.” He drags his hand down the front of your body. “We’re not asking.” 

You manage a strangled sounding scream before your cheek erupts in burning pain, your head snapping to the side from the force of the hit. A hand wraps around your throat, pinning you against the wall. You kick your legs out, trying to hit them, to fight back but they’re too strong. Tears leak out from your eyes, mixing with the rivulet of blood trailing down your chin from your split lip. 

You’ve accepted your inevitable fate when suddenly one pair of hands disappears from you. The second man shouts as his feet leave the ground, his body hefted high in the air. A deep growl reaches your ears, the dim light from the street catching on a piece of armor. The pressure leaves your throat as the first man releases you, your body crumpling to the ground. 

You squeeze your eyes closed as a pained yelp sounds through the alley before the unmistakable crunch of bone. Something warm and wet splatters you. You keep your eyes closed as a blood-chilling roar echoes through the alley seconds before another sickening crunch and the sound of something hitting the ground. 

You’re shaking as the alley falls silent, waiting for the new attacker to turn their attention on you. You should have run, but you’ve lost control over your body. Shuffling footsteps approach you before they stop. You wait for the blow but it doesn’t come, the figure standing still over you. 

You finally crack your eyes open, and you’re staring at a pair of furry legs. You drag your eyes up the hulking form to see a Wookiee staring down at you. Krrsantan, you think, the one that works for the Daimyo. He's a regular in your workplace. You've spotted him in the crowd many times during your performances. 

He slowly holds out a hand to you, letting out a quiet huff. He’d just killed two men easily, yet you don’t feel threatened, or in danger. He had done it to save you. You lift your trembling hand, placing it in his. His hand makes yours seem comically small as he wraps his fingers around it, gently helping you onto shaking legs. Your stomach churns with anxiety, the reality of your situation and what had almost just happened hitting you. 

“Thank you. Y-You saved my life.” You say, looking up at him. 

He reaches up, the pad of a massive finger swiping so gently against your split lip. He lets out a low growl, his warm breath fanning your face. It’s such a gentle touch compared to the brutality he had just dealt. 

It was your fault for not being smart, for not taking the safest route and waiting at the cantina. You shudder to think of what could have happened had he not shown up. 

“Would you...walk me the rest of the way home?” You tighten your grip on your bag. “If you’re not busy.” 

He blinks down at you before nodding once. 

“Thank you.” You say. “This way.” 

You lead him the rest of the way down the alley, ignoring the bodies left behind. Your legs feel numb, steps slightly shuffling as you try to breathe through the anxiety coursing through your veins. Krrsantan moves surprisingly silently for his size, though you suppose a well-trained fighter would. 

It’s a short walk back to your small home, you and Krrsantan walking silently the entire way. Your mind is racing far too much to think of any small talk, and of course, you don’t understand Wookiee Speak. 

“This is me.” You say, pausing outside the door. You turn to him, looking up at him. 

He makes a soft noise down at you, a reluctant look in his eyes. You wish you understood Wookiee speak. You’ve never had a reason to learn before. You’re hesitant to let him go. After everything he's done for you tonight, you want to repay him in some way. 

“Would you...like to come in?” You ask. 

He lets out a louder sound, nodding once. You unlock the door, and he has to bend down to step in. You’re glad for the high ceilings, though the small space only seems smaller with him in it. You set your bag in its usual spot, turning on the lights.

“Make yourself at home.” You say. “I’m going to change.” 

You slip into your room, hastily wiping the blood and sweat from your skin, pushing back the memories threatening to come back up. Your cheek is tender and will likely be sporting a bruise by morning. You steady your nerves as you finish changing into more comfortable clothing, reminding yourself the Wookiee in your home has seen you in far less before. 

You head back out to the living room, finding Krrsantan looking comically large on your small couch. You can’t help but smile at him. 

“Would you like something to drink?” You ask. 

He shakes his head once in answer. 

You head to the kitchen to get yourself a stiff drink, needing something to steady your nerves after the eventful evening. Your hands shake a little as you pour the drink into the glass. You let out a shaky exhale as you hear the creak of the couch, and the quiet footsteps approaching your position. 

You turn around, downing the liquid in the glass before tilting your head to stare up at Krrsantan. Despite the danger you knew he could pose, the twisting of your stomach isn’t out of fear. His hand slowly lifts, brushing your bruised cheek. The touch is so gentle, so tender. He could smash your head in so easily, and yet, his touch is hardly more than a ghosting against your skin. 

His hand slides down your cheek to rest on the back of your neck. His palm is warm and rough, the tips of his claws pressing into your delicate skin. His knuckle-dusters are gone, sitting on your small table in the living room. You relax back into his touch, reaching out with your free hand to tangle your fingers in the fur of his arm. 

“I see you in the crowd sometimes.” You say, carding your fingers through the rough fur. “Watching me. You like watching me dance?” 

Something deep rumbles through his chest, his lips parting to bare his teeth at you. 

Your lips lift in a small smile. “You did me a big favor tonight, saving me from those men.” You trail your hand up his thick arm to his shoulder plate, letting your fingers slide against the metal that crosses his chest. “Will you let me repay you?” 

He lets out a roar, hands dropping to your hips. He lifts you onto the counter, your drink long forgotten as he presses forward between your knees. His hands grip the hem of your top, tugging it over your head. Your face warms despite the fact he’s seen you practically naked before. That was different, though. This feels far more intimate than you dancing on a stage for anyone to see. 

His hands trail your sides, fur tickling your skin as he cups your breasts. You whine under his touch, back arching to press your breasts further into his big hands. He lets out a low noise, leaning his face down into your neck. You tilt your head for him, his fangs scraping against the delicate skin. 

You yelp as his teeth sink into your shoulder, not hard enough to break the skin, but enough you’ll have to cover a mark tomorrow. A rush of wetness floods your panties as he pulls away, licking at the indented skin. 

He lifts you easily with one arm to slide your pants down your legs. You kick them off to the floor, adding to the pile. He parts your thighs as wide as they can, his big hand slipping between them. You let out a breathy moan as the rough pads of his fingers drag through your wet folds. You clench in anticipation at the idea of taking one of his big, thick fingers. 

“Please, Krrsantan.” You whine, pressing your hips against his hand. 

He lets out a low grumble before a claw-tipped finger is prodding at your entrance. Your back arches as he presses a finger into you, stretching your pussy with just one thick digit. You cling to his fur, grinding your hips against his hand as he fucks you with his finger. 

“Kriff!” You curse, eyes rolling back at the pleasure. “Feels so good.” 

His chest rumbles with a growl as he curls his finger inside you, your eyes rolling back as you’re suddenly thrust into an orgasm. Your legs clamp around his hand, body trembling as you gush around his finger. 

You stare up into his eyes as you come down from your high, still clinging to his fur. “The couch.” You gasp out, brain trying to figure out how to function again. 

He seems to understand what you’re trying to say as he scoops you up, carrying you to the couch. He sets you down on shaky legs and you try to steady yourself as he removes his cuirass and belt. They drop to the floor with heavy thuds before he sinks down into the cushions once more. You kneel between his thighs, watching as he moves the protective flap of skin to the side, freeing his large cock. 

It’s long and thick, roughly the length of your forearm and a deep red, almost purple color. It tapers at the bottom, so thick you’re not sure you could fit one hand around it completely. 

“I’ve never had a Wookiee before.” You say, staring at his cock in awe. 

He lets out a sound almost like a laugh as he reaches down for you, lifting you easily onto his lap. His cock prods at your ass as you kneel over him, legs stretched wide around him. You’re still wet and slick after your orgasm, pussy clenching at the prospect of taking such a huge cock. 

You brace yourself on his thick shoulders as the head of his cock brushes your pussy. You wonder how many humans he’s had before, since he seems to be well versed in what he’s doing. You lower your hips as he presses the head of his cock against your entrance, breath catching as the head stretches your pussy. Even after being stretched by his finger, his cock is almost painful as you slip the head inside. 

His hands engulf your hips, but he lets you take control, sinking onto his cock slowly. The painful burn slowly begins to ebb as you sink lower and lower onto his cock. Your legs are shaking by the time you’ve taken as much as you can, the tapering at the bottom of his cock threatening to split you open. 

“Kriff,” You breathe, staring down at the bulge in your stomach. You press your hand against it, your head falling back as it pushes his cock harder against that spot inside you. 

You begin to rock your hips, sliding his cock in and out of you. It bumps against your cervix every time you sink down onto it. It’s slightly painful, but not entirely unpleasant. You use his arms as leverage to bounce on his cock, his claws digging into the skin of your back but you don’t care. He grunts and growls as you fuck yourself on his cock, teeth bared as he watches you intently. 

“Kriff, Krrsantan!” You cry, body practically convulsing as you’re suddenly thrown into an intense orgasm, your juices soaking his fur. 

Krrsantan lets out a loud roar as you squeeze his cock, his hands tightening around your hips almost painfully as he thrusts up into you, hot spurts of cum flooding your walls. It’s almost too much, stretching you more as he keeps cumming, filling you full.

You lift yourself off his cock, unable to take anymore. You fall against his chest, burying your face in his fur as his cum gushes from your pussy. You breathe out a curse, chest heaving against his. You’re still shaking from your orgasm, one of the most intense you’ve ever had. 

Krrsantan wraps his arms around you, letting out a low rumbling noise that vibrates through your entire body. You attempt to catch your breath, wrapping your arms around his neck. 

“I think...you’ve ruined me...for literally anyone else.” You laugh. 

He lets out a roar, nuzzling his face in your hair. 

“We should do that again sometime.” You tease, earning a playful nip at your jaw.

Ye ole Ragu list:

@kaminocasey @rosechi @mxkyrie @bobaprint @star-trekker-0013 @padawancat97 @bamfahsoka @rain-on-kamino @thrawnspetgoose @lune-de-miel-au-paradis @wolffegirlsunite @dukeoftheblackstar @starrylothcat @sev-on-kamino @freesia-writes @anxiouspineapple99 @wings-and-beskar @dystopicjumpsuit @littlemissmanga @madameminor @eris-k @clio3kantarella @moonlightwarriorqueen @sleepingsun501 @originalcollectionartistry @maddiedrmr @idontgetanysleep @clonemedickix @523rdrebel @deejadabbles @starqueensthings @multi-fan-dom-madness @wizardofrozz @mythical-illustrator @sunshinesdaydream @mooncommlink @lickylickylicky @sweetheartsnips

[liquidluckandstuff]

Did you know Harry can't swim?

Tom had never seen Harry as anything less than a Gryffindor. Always the hero, always self sacrificing, always kind and noble and smiling and he hated it so god damned much.

How was it that Harry Potter could stay so perfect all the time?

Bastard.

Harry had come out of nowhere. He showed up in the middle of the year with his shy smile and perfect eyes that lit up whenever he learned something new in defense and narrowed in total hatred whenever they looked at him.

Tom couldn't for the life of him figure out why, but that didn't mean he was going to take it.

It was supposed to be a harmless prank. Harry was perfect after all. He wasn't scared of anything or anyone and it irked Tom to no end. So, when the opportunity miraculously presented itself and he found Harry alone by the black lake...

He pushed him of the small cliff he had been standing over and he fell straight into the water.

The initial splash was so satisfying Tom found himself laughing with an unrestrained joy he hadn't allowed himself for a while.

But then that was it. No shouts of anger, no sounds of Harry swimming to shore. Nothing.

Tom looked over and waited for Harry's head to resurface.

And waited.

and waited.

And suddenly he realized that he had no idea if Harry could swim or not. What if the water was more shallow than he realized and Harry had hit his head on the way down.

"Damn it," Tom said as he took off his cloak and jumped in after him.

He found Harry quickly; limbs kicking awkwardly, eyes wide in panic. Tom grabbed him by the arm and dragged him to the surface where Harry proceeded to cough up lake water the second he was pulled above the surface.

"Relax," Tom demanded. "You're just going to make yourself tired if you keep moving like that."

Harry, who thought Tom was here to finish the job, pushed him away out of self defense. "Go away!" Was the only thing he was able to get out before his head went back under the water.

"Oh for fucks sake," Tom usually didn't curse but Harry always seemed to bring out something different in him. He grabbed Harry tightly and refused to let go no matter how hard Harry fought him. "I'm trying to save you, idiot!"

"You tried to kill me!"

"I thought it was just funny! I wasn't trying to kill you! I didn't realize you couldn't swim.'

"Let me go!"

"No, you'll only drown yourself. Now would you - STOP!"

Harry was in a full panic once he looked down into the water and saw how deep and dark it was. He shook as he struggled to control his breathing even though Tom held him above water.

"I got you, come on. Just hold on i'll take you back..."

Tom pulled Harry close to his chest, their warmth quickly sinking into one another as he carefully backstroked toward solid ground. He made a point to remain as calm as possible as Harry had a fixed look of wide eyed terror on his face.

He couldn't deny that he enjoyed Harry relying on him or his hands clutching tightly to his shirt. He almost considered teasing Harry and keeping them in the water just a little longer so they could remain as close as they were.

For no other reason than to prove how much better he was than Harry of course.

Yet, they made it back in one piece and Harry still did not seem to calm down even when his feet were on solid ground.

"Um... here," Tom said awkwardly as he cast a spell to dry them both off. "I.. uh..." He didn't do apologies very well. "I won't do that again."

Harry turned to him, a ghost of fear still behind his eyes and said nothing before storming off back to the castle.

_________

@i-dream-of-libraries See? See? Vacation brain.

[animelovelover123]

Devil May Cry Boys Dealing With Your Violent, Emotional Breakdown

Parings: Dante, Reboot Dante, Reboot Vergil, Nero, V x Reader (reader is gender neutral but there are some comments that may seem to veer one way or the other)

This is a weirdly specific idea but it came to mind while trying to calm myself down from an emotional dysregulated episode. I’ve never gotten violent with people but I have trashed some things in my blind panic and rage, so the physical attacking aspect might not be too realistic. I tried.

Disclaimer: This story shouldn’t be taken as a serious representation of mental troubles or as a guide on how to deal with someone who is having an episode.

Trigger Warnings: Forceful confinement. Attacking others and (in one case) being attacked. Mentions of wanting to hurt others and yourself.

Dante

“Welcome home.” Dante greeted, fully expecting the glare you shot him considering he could hear your stomping and cursing from across the street.

Something on your mission had clearly ticked you off and Dante intended to stay out of it.

However, things change when he gets up from his desk and starts towards your shared bedroom, hoping to take refuge there while the storm passed.

You start accusing him of abandoning you and not caring about you.

“Hey now, you know that’s not what this is about.” He keeps up his joking tone, hiding the honest offense he took at your claims.

He knows that once this episode passes, you’ll apologize and tell him not to take the things you say in this state seriously.

But he also knew that right now, in this manic state, you do believe everything you're saying. He has seen it and, once upon a time, felt it himself, the overwhelming feeling that the world and every creature in it are against you.

So he stayed, still intending to let you thrash around to your heart’s content. That is until you yank a Devil Arm from the wall.

“Whoa there cowboy, no need for that.” Even in the hands of someone who couldn’t call upon the demonic power within it, a Devil Arm could still cause some serious damage. Dante may be able to handle quite a bit of abuse and any furniture crushed in your rampage could be replaced, but god forbid you hurt yourself.

He grabs hold of the hand guard and tries to pluck it from your grip but you hang on like your life depended on it, screaming, pulling, swearing, kicking, and clawing at Dante in an attempt to make him let go.

His quips and prods come naturally. He teasingly says things like “Feeling feisty today aren’t we kitten?” and “I didn’t know my sweet little kitten had claws” as the only damage you are able to do to him is giving him a few nicks with a jagged nail you had broken in your rage.

Eventually, he lifts the Devil Arm up and out of your reach.

Instead of hanging there you give up on that one. You let go and make a dash for another weapon lodged in the shop’s walls.

“Alright, playtimes over.” Dante drops the Devil Arm he had confiscated on his desk and wraps his thick, strong arms around your waist, pinning your arms down at your sides. “I’m gonna have to put you in time out.”

He lifts you off the ground with ease and carries you to the couch.

You can kick, scream, and struggle around all you want but there isn’t much you can do while in his lap, your back to him.

He holds you tight, only loosening his grip a bit if you start to wheeze, cough, hyperventilate, or any other action that suggested you weren’t getting enough air.

“That’s it kitten, let it all out.” He coos between your incoherent shouts.

When you aren’t thrashing your head around, he places gentle kisses along your shoulders and up the back of your neck.

As you settle, his iron grip transitions into soothing rubbing, messaging your arms and thighs.

When you finally relax into him and start muttering apologies for your actions and what you said his jokes soon come back in full force.

Not quite immediately though as he first assures you that “It’s alright, your fine. I’m not going anywhere.”

I briefly considered writing separate entries for different stages in Dante’s life, but I felt that the only thing that would really change was how moody he got in response. So instead, I made this general scenario and slipped in some angst. Also, I had no intention of having ‘kitten’ be your go-to nickname but the quips I came up with just fit the name so well so I kept using it ^^;.

Reboot Dante

Mocking each other, playfully arguing, and coming up with creative insults were just a part of your guys’ relationship. Being able to take smack talk and throw it right back was something Dante loved about you. And from your two’s bubbling anger came rougher kisses and better sex so it was usually a win-win.

This, along with having anger issues himself and being a generally confrontational guy, resulted in Dante not realizing that your mood was more severe than any other time you got pissy. If anything, he takes this opportunity to toy with you, having fun lighting your short fuse as you worked on a mission together.

“Aww, you didn’t get that? You know, I’d spell it out for you, but that’s assuming you know your ABC’s.”

“Oh ya, you’re totally glowing babe. But I think it’s from the radiation coming off your toxic ass.”

“You're worth every penny babe. That being said, let me show you to the discount section because I found a spot for you.”

It was all fun and games for Dante until you started making crazy claims with an all-too-serious voice.

You screamed about how much you hated the world, the people in it, and yourself. That was all relatively fine. He agreed with a lot of what you said about the assholes in the world, though not about yourself. But then you started hinting at wanting to hurt yourself.

He tells you to chill out in what may seem like his usually cocky tone but anyone who knew him well enough would have caught the twinge of uncertainty and fear that crept out.

Dante turns away from you, whips out a cigarette, and lights it. “Let’s just get this shit over with.”

Once the two of you were done with this mission and out of limbo then he could get you both something to drink to calm down. Or maybe he would hand you off to Kat.

Out of all the moments for Kat to split off to do something else, why did it have to be the time Dante needed her help the most?

He can hear you stomp after him screaming your lungs out but he isn’t in the mood to yell back anymore.

Dante keeps his glaring eyes straight ahead, his shoulders tense up, and the pinch hold on his cigarette grows stronger, denting the filter.

Then, everything escalates all too suddenly.

His shoulder is grabbed. He is spun around. His cigarette snaps and tumbles into his hand where it quickly burns a hole through his glove and skin. You’re screaming in his face, asking if this is what he wants. Theirs a gun between you two. Dante’s fight or flight reflexes kick in and his instincts choose what it always did.

He slams his clenched fist up into your gut, knocking the air out of your lungs. You drop your gun and crumble to the floor, hands wrapping around your stomach as your desperate attempts for air turn into violent coughing.

“Shit! Fuck! I’m sorry I-” Dante reaches down to you but when you, whether intentionally or not, jerk away from his shaking hand his heart drops into his churning stomach.

“Kaaaaat!” Dante turns and takes a few steps away from you. “Kat! Where the hell are you?”

“I’m here Dante.” Kat's white lucid form comes sprinting around a corner at the rare sound of panic in Dante’s voice. “What happened? Are you guys okay?” She quickly notices you curled up on the ground fighting for breath and rushes over.

“Get them out of limbo.” He orders, unable to look at your now crying face out of shame.

“What about you?”

“I’ll stay here and finish the mission. Just get them somewhere safe. Help them.” Because God knows Dante can’t. He’ll just fuck up more than he already has.

I believe that reboot Dante would, by far, be the worst at handling violent emotional breakdowns. This man can’t keep himself in check when walking down the street half the time. There is no way he can navigate someone else’s emotions. But now that he has you, Kat, and Vergil (people that he wants to protect and keep a positive relationship with) he is trying to reign in his anger around them. Bad habits die hard though. That was my thought process.

Reboot Vergil

It started with you and Vergil worrying over something having gone wrong on your recent mission. This includes your own failings, which he will point out and calmly instruct you on how you could have done better.

When he notices that you are getting far more riled up about this than usual his own negative comments lessen and eventually stop when you take on a doomful mindset.

At first, he stays calm, telling you that “things will be dealt with”, “everything would be fine”, and “no need to get so worked up”.

But as you kept yelling and start stomping around, he grows impatient, telling you to go cool off somewhere else as he tries to gently lead you out of the room.

Not taking this well you fight back, getting up in his face and screaming at him.

He doesn’t back down though, standing up straight and glaring down at you. He shouts your name at you like an angry parent trying to assert dominance and instill slight threat.

When you suddenly start physically attacking you catch him off guard and get a single good hit on him, a punch to the jaw. Any attempt after that though he easily blocks or evades single-handedly, his other hand holding his sore jaw.

He doesn’t try to grab or restrain you though, not until you turn your violence onto the objects around you two.

Ungodly amounts of irreplaceable documents were spread around the room. Terabytes of data on encrypted memory sticks. Stacks of incriminating papers. Ancient and fragile books. All were so easily destroyable and it was all the same to you in your blind rage.

So, begrudgingly, Vergil retrieves one of the pairs of handcuffs used by The Order from a draw and wrestles you into a sitting position. He cuffs your hands behind your back and around an unpowered radiator mounted to the wall.

As you thrash and scream Vergil tries to do something to distract himself, some work or making a drink. All the while one of his hands rubs his already-healed jaw as if it could soothe his non-physical pain.

Once your adrenalin runs dry and you are left sitting slack against the wall, Vergil approaches you. He goes down on one knee in front of you, making himself less threatening, though still above your slouched form.

“I’m going to take the cuff off now alright?” He doesn’t proceed until you respond with a quiet affirmation.

He unlatches each cuff separately, taking the time to gently slide each of your hands free, delicately holding your soar wrists which were red and limp from the struggle.

“Would you like something to drink?” He offers as he stands up, still gently holding your wrists, urging you to stand. When you don’t move, he places your hands on your lap.

“I’ll be right back.” He promises, stepping out of the room momentarily. He returns with a mug of water, an orange, and an ice pack.

He lays them in front of you like an offering to a goddess. He doesn’t ask for an explanation or an apology. He doesn’t ask you to leave nor does he leave you. He’ll let you reflect in silence for as long as you need while he works close by.

“If you want to talk, I’ll be here to listen, always.”

This is the first of the set I wrote (though not the first one I thought up) so it is a bit different from the others as I was still trying to settle on a style. He is also the only one in this group that would probably have actual restraining equipment on hand to use on you and would know how to do it. The order does some shady shit so you’re not the first person he has had to tie up. Though you are the only one to get such nice treatment after ;).

Nero

Despite the fact that Nero is guilty of violently lashing out at people and things, he is wholly unprepared for your breakdown.

To him, it started like any other argument you two had. Your voices grew louder, your brows knit together in glares, and baseless claims, threats, and swearing spilled from each of your mouths recklessly. Kyrie was fussing in the background, trying her best to calm the situation with her words.

But then you started to hit things. You punch a wall, breaking through the drywall and knocking things off it. You kicked at tables and shelves, rattling the things on them into falling over or to the floor.

“The hell is your problem?!” He more so accused than asked.

He doesn’t approach you though, yelling back at you from a distance as he felt his right arm flex as the adrenalin in his body was making his arm crave violence, but he wasn’t going to lay a hand on you.

That was his intention, but then you started throwing things. In your blind rage you were just flinging things around randomly, but then you threw a cup in Nero’s direction.

He easily doges with a lean and it sores past him. It shatters against the wall… right beside Kyrie.

She lets out a surprised shriek, jumping back as the broken shards graze her dress though do not cause any damage.

Nero snaps, his protective brother instincts kicking in as he storms over to you.

“Nero, wait.” Kyrie pleads, reaching for his arm but he brushes it away.

“Stay back Kyrie, I’ve got this.” Truthfully, he wasn’t sure what he was going to do but he had to stop you.

“Please don’t hurt them.” Kyrie cries though she heeds Nero’s demand and backs out of the room, knowing that she would just be in the way.

Of course Nero wasn’t going to hurt you. He could never. And that’s the problem. He doesn’t know how to stop someone’s violence without resorting to it himself.

As he watches you scream and throw things, which he makes sure to catch and drop on the floor, while also crying and shaking he is reminded of an angry and frightened child lashing out. You remind Nero of his childhood self.

As a child… what did people do to stop him?

A distant memory of himself and Credo flashes in Nero’s mind.

Now within arms reach you take a wild swing at him. Nero uses your momentum against you, spinning around you and pushing you forward while tripping you so you fall to the wood floor.

You hear the stomp of boots on either side of you. As you prepare to lift up onto your hands and knees, a massive weight lands on your lower back, forcing you back down.

Nero was sitting on you, pinning you to the ground.

Though not totally understanding what had you acting like this, Nero could tell that you weren’t in your right mind and you weren’t able to communicate coherently until you calmed down. So he kept you under control until you two were able to work things out together.

Though he is unable to use his legs, as they were straddling your hips, his hands are free. He doesn’t want to use them though, worrying about hurting you with his overpowered right arm. However, he will stop you from hurting yourself by tossing any sharp object out of your reach and holding your head steady if you start slamming it against the floor.

He also responds to a lot of your accusations once realizing that many of them were, whether directly or indirectly, self-deprecating.

“Broken? What the hell are you talking about?”

“You’re not a failure.”

“You just need to calm down, you’re fine.”

“Of course I love you.”

Like Reboot Dante, Nero has an attitude problem and is prone to starting/egging people into fights. However, Nero has enough self-control to not hit things he knows he shouldn’t. Like, no matter how pissed off he got at Kyrie (unlikely considering she is a saint) he would NEVER lay a hand on her. I wanted to implant that feeling here.

His solution to this is childish (fun fact I got this idea from a past experience where a family member did this to child me when I was having a tantrum) but he grew up having his anger funneled into combat training for The Order of the Sword so he doesn’t really have many experiences dealing with anger any other way.

V

You leave a scratch on the side of Nico’s van by how forcefully you slammed the door open.

“So you’re gonna bust up my van now dickhead?” She screamed, trying to follow you to continue your guys’ argument but Nero wrapped her in a Nelson hold to stop her before she started a fistfight she wouldn’t win. “How about you shove a tampon in before coming back!”

As Nico thrashed, shouting stranger and stranger insults, and Nero attempted to get her to chill out, V silently slid out of the van.

He had stayed silent through the argument, observing the situation unfold but not feeling the need or right to intervene. This decision had been solidified when Nero tried to interject and had only made things worse.

His lack of action, however, did not equate to a lack of concern for your well-being.

“Are they done yet?” Griffon said wearily as he was summoned, having evaporated to safety the moment his mocking comments had gotten him grabbed by the leg and tossed into the front windshield of the van.

In his defense, according to himself, that attack wouldn’t have worked on him if his master didn’t ban him from hurting you.

“Scout ahead for demons,” V instructed while calling Shadow out from the floor. His eyes stayed glued to your form as you stomped down a dirt path leading away from the city and into a lightly forested area. Though with it being the fall season many of the trees were close to bald of any foliage. “and lead them away from any danger.” V added with a stroke to the top of Shadow’s head.

Shadow darted back into the ground and slid after you.

“Alright lover boy,” Griffon took off from V’s outstretched arm. “but I’m gonna keep high. I don’t feel like becoming Thanksgiving dinner.”

“Oh,” V called Griffon’s attention again who had already risen higher than the sparse trees. “and keep an eye out for anything… derelict.”

“Oh-ho! Now we’re talking.”

And so, you were tracked and led through the woods. Griffon zoomed around overhead, signaling to Shadow whenever your path would lead to a pack of demons while looking for an abandoned structure you could ‘play’ with. Shadow didn’t so much push you into any direction, but more so shepherd you through acts like blocking your current path and making attention-grabbing sounds and/or movements along safer roads. And V studied you from a distance, keeping you in earshot while casually avoiding your line of sight.

Though he was following you out of a desire to watch over you while allowing you the space to vent your frustrations, he also found a sort of fascination in your outrage.

The lover of art in him was attracted to pure, intense, unfiltered emotions. As if he was watching an interpretive dance or a slam poetry performance, V studied your movements, your posture, the words you spoke and how you said them, trying to decipher them to understand the underlying feelings from which they originated from.

By the time you finished tearing apart the remains of what was once a cabin, he had a firm grasp on what had truly set your heart ablaze.

He doesn’t approach you until you slump to the floor in exhaustion. Your head lolls back as your tired muscles surrender to your weight. You start to fall back but are quickly caught by V’s arm sliding around your shoulders and supporting your neck.

He flouts down to one knee as he lowers you onto the awaiting Shadow, the feline’s warmth and silky coat cradling around you as your new support in this almost laying position.

As your body and consciousness fight over whether or not to sleep here and now, you feel a soothing warmth glide up your cheek.

“Rest now love.” V’s fingers glide up the side of your face and into your hair. He could discuss his theories on what feelings deep in your heart had caused you this pain after you had recovered your strength, even if that meant sleeping under the fall sunset somewhere deep in the woods. “I’ll be here to watch over you.”

This was the last one I wrote since I am still getting a grasp on V’s, and his familiar’s, mannerisms. I think I did okay. This one ended up the longest and I blame this on integrating Griffon and Shadow, which I also think I did okay writing.

Also, I debated whether to have Griffon present as you fell asleep, maybe cuddling up on you for warmth, but I feel like he would talk your ear off and not let you rest so I left him out.

[lindsay00000008]

Whumpees in traps

1. A hole in the ground

CW: gunshot wound, tranquillizing/needles, slightly intimate whumper

Whumpee stumbles through the underbrush, away from the shouting men and barking dogs. One arm, bloody with a fresh wound, is cradled to their chest by the other, making their escape a hip-swaying, unsteady affair. They can barely see in the cool blue light of dusk. The trees both aid their cover and disrupt their path. And then, the whole forest shifts up and away, and darkness surrounds whumpee before they feel the hard earth come up to meet them.

Dazed, they attempt to roll onto their back, but they only get so far before a wall stops them. Their legs try to kick out and earth crumbles there too, but doesn’t give — unlike their ankle, which feels tender and brittle. A halo of light shines above, not very far — but when whumpee gets to their feet, leaning on the sides of the hole for support, they find it’s too far for their current state. An arm’s usefulness lost to a captor’s gun, a body weakened by stress and captivity, an ankle sprained in the fall. The trap is a crude, unsophisticated thing, but obviously man-made. For wolves, or snakes, or maybe hobs. Not made for a whumpee, though now it may as well have been.

The barking starts up once more, close by. The shouts then, and bits of dirt rain down as a nose snuffles at the edge of the hole, encroaching on Whumpee’s fading light. The dog marks it’s prey with more barks. Whumpee cowers below, turning into the shadows and trying to make themselves invisible. Hopefully a whumper will fall in, and somehow become incapacitated, and whumpee can climb atop them to get out… but no. The whumpers see the trap.

“They’re here! Get a rope!” one shouts. “There’s no escape, whumpee. You come with us or you die down there.”

But when the rope is thrown in, whumpee refuses to cooperate.

“Take the damn rope, Whumpee.”

But Whumpee is frozen.

“Whumpers, hold the line. I’ll bring them up.”

The whumper scales the drop, wary of Whumpee’s attack when their back is turned. There’s barely enough room for both of them. Whumpee can only curl themselves away, as if they might melt into the dirt or sink beneath it. Whumper grabs the back of Whumpee’s neck, then their arm — the one with the bullet. Whumpee screams. Whumper lets go of their arm with a curse.

“They’re injured! Get me something to calm them,” Whumper calls to the others. “You’re a lotta trouble, you know that? They shouldn’t have used a gun on you though. Dammit…”

Whumpee is almost pressed against Whumper’s legs by the proximity in the small space. Whumper pulls Whumpee out of their huddled crouch, a little more gently than before. They fend off Whumpee’s hand as they make feeble, fumbling attempts to push them away. Then Whumpee is only sagging against the wall before Whumper, too tired to fight. Whumper puts an arm around their waist to keep them upright.

“Please,” Whumpee begs. “Whatever they’re paying you, it c-can’t be enough to-“

“Damn right it ain’t enough. Whumpers! Get me some light. And where’s that sedative?”

A case is tossed into the hole, and a shaky light illuminates the two figures in the dirt. Whumper catches the packet, bracing it against their chest to unzip it and grabs a syringe. They pull the cap off with their teeth, expertly handling the dose and keeping Whumpee still at the same time.

“No, no— just leave me here! You don’t need me! You can just leave me here please—“ Whumpee struggles in vain as Whumper uses the side of their palm to turn their chin. With the same hand, they bring the needle to sink into the flesh between Whumpee’s neck and shoulder.

“Just lemme— let— jrss,” Whumpee blinks, eyes wide and unfocused before they roll away in a haze, “jus let— ff-mmh…” Whumpee’s head slumps, and their body goes slack.

“That’s it, sleepy time…” Whumper mutters, shifting Whumpee’s weight closer to their body.

“Christ, you went fast. Ok. We’re good, boys! Bringing ‘em up!”

[thebibutterflyao3]

Day 5 - Prompt: Docile @wolfstarmicrofic

January Daily Series - 793 words

<<<Previous Part OR Start Here

Sirius chuckled and shook his head. “Not sure I could envision you as a cat though. It seems too docile. Doesn’t fit your tough guy image.”

Tough guy? Oh, he means the scars.

“Looks can be deceiving,” Remus said with a shrug.

“I suppose that’s true. I doubt anyone looking at James would expect him to be the overgrown puppy that he is.”

Sirius had mentioned James at least a dozen times over the course of their conversation. It was painfully obvious how close they were. Remus would be jealous if Sirius hadn’t referred to him as a brother. James was welcome to that title, or he could fight Regulus for it. Remus wanted a different one.

James is about to be my new best friend. Sorry, Lily.

“You’re not what I expected either,” he said.

“No? Well, good.” Sirius lifted his chin defiantly and it took every ounce of his willpower not to soothe the sudden tension along Sirius’s jaw.

Remus shifted directions quickly to ease back into their previous casual comradery. “Neither is Padfoot.”

Sirius’s expression softened at once. His dog and his best friend really were the bloke’s weaknesses. Remus mentally highlighted and underlined “befriend James and Padfoot.” He was already making strides on both, but he wanted the security of covering all of his bases.

“Yeah, that’s true. My brother is scared of him, can you believe that?”

“Well, Regulus was nearly tackled by him yesterday.”

“That’s a bit dramatic. Padfoot wouldn’t hurt him!” Sirius insisted.

Remus nodded agreeably. “I know, but it’s understandable for him to be nervous around a dog that he isn’t familiar with.”

Sirius narrowed his eyes for a moment, then sighed. “Yeah, alright. I just wish he would relax a bit. My brother has had a perpetual stick up his arse since we were kids.”

“Some people enjoy that sort of thing,” Remus teased, delighted at the opening Sirius gave him.

“Some people? Or you?” Sirius arched an eyebrow and smirked.

The instant change to a flirtatious tone was exactly what Remus was aiming for. Distract, deflect, and delay was his go-to response to confrontation. It was good to know that the strategy was just as effective with Sirius.

Just step on me already.

“I’m flexible,” he replied with a shrug.

Sirius barked out an incredulous laugh and rolled his eyes. “That was a terrible segue.”

Okay, maybe not “just as effective” with Sirius.

“I never claimed to be charismatic.”

Before Sirius could respond, Padfoot jerked forward. He sniffed the air avidly, then let out a loud, excited woof. Sirius was tugged with enough force to snap his shoulder, he struggled to maintain control of the leash until he started sprinting to keep up. Remus hurried after them, concerned that Padfoot would drag Sirius to the ground in his rush to round the next bend.

“Shite! Look out!” Sirius shouted, gripping both hands around the leash.

Remus saw the impending collision while Sirius was still regaining his balance. He already had one hand around the leash and an arm around Sirius’s chest before he yelled out a warning to the vendors setting up their carts in the centre of the town square. With a grimace, he skidded to a stop. The leash went taut as Padfoot fought the resistance of their combined weight, then slack when the dog abruptly stopped.

A loud yelp sounded at the same time as Remus’s grunt when Sirius lost his balance. They crashed to the ground in a tangle of limbs and muttered curses. The moment Sirius flailed, Padfoot bolted forward, wrenching the leash from their hands.

“Padfoot!” Sirius elbowed Remus in the face and stomped on his shin in his mad scramble to sit upright. “Fuck, fuck, fuck! Not the sausage cart!”

Remus tucked his hands under Sirius’s hips and shoved him up onto his feet, then ducked and rolled away to give him room. His leg smarted from the kick and he wisely opted to get the fuck out of his way rather than attempt to chase after the dog. Within seconds, Sirius was gone. The loud clomp of his boots on the pavement echoed back in a jeering taunt.

He sprawled out on the grass and groaned heavily. One eye was definitely swelling and the sharp pain blossomed out of the socket and spread across his cheek and into his nose. His leg wasn’t broken, but there was likely a bruise there too. If he was lucky, it would be a perfect imprint of Sirius’s boot.

May have taken “step on me” a little too literally.

[incrediblyshyghost]

FNAF: fairy AU fanfic of @ayyy-imma-ninja fairy Eclipse 

Sick oc, death of a hawk, mention of blood and cuts, some cursing, fairy Eclipse is NOT my character, hurt fairy. Eclipse had used this older farmhouse to keep out of the rain a few days ago, it seemed to be while kept and redone but no one seemed to be living here, the temptation to burn it down was squished when he found a way in and fell on a weird rectangle plastic box with buttons this made the bigger magic box turned on showing all different animals with facts about them he found himself sitting on the soft couch watching the magic box till the storm had passed and he didn't want to leave after that. But a few days ago, 5 humans came and ruined his fun cleaning up the place and seemed to be moving boxes in, they left soon after so he left looking for food for a while coming back only to find there are new humans there again. Eclipse noticed watching from an oak tree grumbling about not being able to watch the magic box. 

Are you sure you want to be alone? Her mother asked as they finished setting up the old house for her to stay for a while.

Yeah, I need time for myself to think alone about this and it’s not like it’s forever, and I have the sheriff's number on speed dial if anything happens, and the air here is better than the city-smoked fill poison that has been polluting my lungs lately. 

I know I know I just love you ok and you better call me every day! She shouts, hugging her daughter tight enough for her to feel her bones creak. 

Ok. Love you too Mom she said patting her mother back trying to keep a brave face as she stood in the driveway watching the red car pull away down the rocky drive. 

The loving moment made Eclipse's stomach turn but he was intrigued by the car humans had come a long way with their toys. Watching the big red machine kick up dust. Only for his eyes to catch the human that was left behind, she had freckles like someone he knew but her deep green eyes were different... He waked as the girl waved till the car was out of sight and took a shaky deep breath. How odd for some reason, Eclipse found himself following the girl as she walked into the forest. It seemed the more she walked the shakier she got tell she got to the small creek she fell to her knees, her arms wrapped around her side hugging herself tightly as she bowed her head, short brown hair getting pulled in the slight current the creek had, and screamed she screamed so loud like a wounded animal a dyeing animal something he had never heard come out of a human as she sat in the rocky, grass filled edge of the creek tears running down her nose making ripples in the water. Till her voice seems to go out her back shakes as she sodded alone in the forest. 

Eclipse was struggling to just leave her, that scream reminded him of his own. He had followed her to give her a scare, maybe get her to leave the house so he could watch the magic box! but now he didn't know what to do, his wing fluttered as he decided to just leave, but a shriek of a hawk and the sound of its wings right behind him changed his plains before he could even turn sharp claw wrapped around his chest and wings, squeezing him as he feels his wings rips by the sharp talons as the beast wings shoosh around him, he growled his claws swiping at the hawks talons his fire burning the bird he heard the birds shriek of pain ringing in his ears and a felt himself falling with it then nothing… 

The girl looks up from her pity party of one hearing the hawk shriek and thrash in on the ground she gets up slowly walks over gasping holding a hand over her mouth sees the hawk with what looks like burn marks on its chest one side of its face and wing look bend in the wrong direction from its fall,  she had heard about the fire that happened two weeks ago but this looks like it had just happened the bird still smoking. A few leaves on fire around it and just looking at the poor thing there was no way it was going to live, but then she saw something lying on the ground by the dying hawk she picked it up away from the trashing bird's talons and it looked like a fairy? This was a joke, she had asked for a sign not whatever this was! But as she looked at the little odd creature that was bleeding in her hand as the hawk went quiet and still she couldn't just put the little thing down and head home, so she curled her fingers around the warm creature and headed back to the old farmhouse as she dried her tears. 

Rushing into the house and putting the fairy on the marble countertop under the kitchen light she could see the claw mark on the poor thing's middle and rips on its big wings that she had gently made sure she didn't fold when she put him down, and there was blood on the back of its head, she just stared for a moment taking him in, the body was half dark brown like the bark of a tree, the other side orange, almost like a Halloween themed doll, its mouth hung open showing off its sharp teeth it had claws to match raggedy and torn cloak shirt thing over its top half and dark red and orange striped pants that looked ashed covered and slightly burned. All and all the poor thing looked like a bloody mess she moved to her medicine cabinets pulling everything she could get her hand on out and putting it around the unconscious fairy thing. 

Cleaning the wounds was easy with some Q-tips with warm water on them to clean off the blood and gently trying to see if there was anything like dirt inside the wounds was hard to see but her sewing kit magnifying glass came in handy there. Once that was done she put some Neosporin on the wounds. Then whispered cussed out the gauze as she struggled to cut it small enough to tie around the fairy but she managed to wrap the gauze around the fairy's belly and leg from the hawk's apparent attack, it was a little worrying at how limp the poor thing was but it was still breathing. After that she looked at its wings. The edges looked tattered but that could just be how they were there, however, the three cuts from the talons were clean lines through the wings. Digging around her medicines she found new skin liquid bandages and it was worth a shot the stuff was pretty much glue so she gently applied the new skin on the wing being careful to hold the two pieces together and not glue into the table and holding it for a few minutes till it dry and do it again to the other cut on his wings he only ever made a light hissing sound which made her jump out of her skin but he didn't wake. Once all his wounds were taken care of she made him a little bed out of a soft blanket and put the smallest ice pack out of her fridge she could find under it for the head wound. She left him on the table away from anything flammable besides the blanket he was on, since she doubted the bird just burst into flame the odd creature had to be the cause... 

“What a good start to this week instead of unpacking and thinking about what little option you had left you bringing a weird creature into the house that you are pretty sure somehow set a bird on fire smart move” she mumbled to herself opening the windows hoping the thing would wake up and flee out the window, cleaning up the medicine putting it all back in the cabinet, she hoped it was something her mind's made up in her panic of the bad news, but as she glanced over and yep the Halloween themed fairy still there. She sat in the dining room, a spot where she could glance up and see the bundle of blankets and the tips of the fairy's wings. She pulled out her notebook mindlessly sketching and doodling as the time slowly moved forward unable to unpack worried shed wake the thing. The clock ticking seemed to tease her about how long she had left here, so she put on some music to drown out the ticking and temptation to toss the clock outside in the yard. 

She was lost in her sketchbook and music not noticing the movement in the kitchen as the fairy woke up feeling something cool on the back of his head. It felt nice dulling the ache he could feel there. He felt weak, S-sunny? He called softly before he snapped back to reality with a gasp sitting up quickly only to hiss holding his aching side his head throbbing at the sudden movement where was he? He thought his eyes scanning what he could see, a familiar kitchen hearing quiet music and his hand he felt cloth not skin looking down he found a soft white cloth wrapped there and on his leg, his wing ached, and looking at them he saw cuts and some kind of shiny clear something on the cuts holding the torn wing parts together. What happened? He thinks back remembering the girl and then… a bird? Did he really lose to a stupid bird? He growled Looking over he saw the girl, it seemed she calmed down and was doing something with a book away from him he saw the open windows he slowly got up with a hiss holding his head feeling like his brain got scrambled he fluttered his wings and hissing at the ache it caused no flying yet he stumbles over to the edge of the counter and shouted at the human to come over here. 

She almost jumps out of her skin and hears bells suddenly over her music she looks around before spotting the fairy thing standing with its hands over its mouth like it was shouting at her but she only hears bells, she gets up slowly, umm i i can't hear what you're saying you sound like windchimes she said coming over to the table slowly. Then she hears a voice that sounds male and growly “Hey kidnapper can I get some food!” 

She chuckles out of all the things to say, well seems you are doing better she says walking past the island into the kitchen opening the fridge pulling out some strawberries and a piece of cooked chicken pulling off a small piece and getting a medicine cup filling it with water putting it all on a small saucer before putting it on the island for the fairy. Hopefully, you're okay with spice the chicken has some heat to it, she said watching the fairy confidently walk over the saucer and sit down to eat, watching her as she watched him. You look like you have been through hell, fairy? She said the last word as though it was a question he looked up at her nodding 

Got a name? Or are you just going to eat my food after I bandage you up and leave without introducing yourself? She asked 

“You first crybaby he growled” with his mouth full, 

“Crybaby?... Where are you watching me?” She asked but he didn't answer her the petals on his head twitched a little which was odd she sighed not getting an answer from him she shook her head no. “I remember reading somewhere that it's a bad idea to give your name to a fairy first and I help you instead of letting that dying hawk kill you. I think it's the least you could do is tell me your name.”

“Eclipse” he growled glaring at her “Zoe” she all but purred happy to get a name for the odd little fairy. 

Oh what happened to the “bad idea giving your name to a fairy?” eclipse chuckled standing up and dusting himself off after he finished his food. 

“Well I know yours so I think it equals out right?” Zoe asked with a shrug 

“I don't know, is it? I could have lied about my name” Eclipse chuckles with his Cheshire grin 

“So could I.” Zoe said, almost bopping Eclipse's pointed nose but yanking her hand back when he tried to bite “Sorry, it's just your... Cute” 

“Am not!” eclipse shouts little flames circle his balled fist as he huffs glaring at her, her eyes widen but not in fear like Eclipse thought they would but in amazement as she seems to looking him over again. 

“So you are the reason the hawk was bbq?” she asked her hand coming closer but a sharp glare and a show of teeth got her to stop moving closer “sorry sorry,” she said leaning back so you are a fire fairy? 

Eclipse or black sun fairy take your pick of a name eclipse huffed crossing his arms and glaring up at her 

“You don't like humans do you?” Zoe asked 

“What do you think?” he growled his wing fluttered and he hid a wince 

“You're the one that called me over” she shrugged “If it makes you feel better I won't be here long, so don't start liking me little firecracker.” she giggled, patting the side of his face gently with a finger pulling back quickly before he could snap at her. She backs away from the table as he shouts about how he will kill her as he stoops his foot. Little sparks of fire flicker from his hands him “So angry that's not how you talk to people eclipse.”  she said leaving the island and going back to her sketchbook on the dining table letting him throw a tantrum on the marble table where he couldn't light anything but the blanket on fire, and it seems as soon as she thought that she smells fire and see the blanket has a small flickering flame on its corner and the fairy grinning at her as she rushes over smoothing the small start of a fire with the rest of the blanket really? Really? You had to burn the blanket, not a ‘Please can you come back? No straight to arson with you? She asked, she didn't shout or freak out, just made sure the fire wasn't going to start again before looking at the fairy standing by the blanket looking confused. 

“I didn't think about that” he huffed crossing his arms 

“Course, so you got me to come over. What do you want, little fairy?” Zoe asked as she stood there, Eclipse huffed and grumbled kicking at the smooth marble table with his bare feet before looking up at her. Can you take me to the magic box that talks about wildlife? Eclipse asked 

She stares at him for a moment thinking magic box magic box…., you mean a TV? She asked holding her hand out for Eclipse to jump onto, he stared at her seeming to be shocked that she would trust him not the burn her after he just lit the blanket of fire, he slowly climbed on and sat on her palm and she carefully took him over to the living room rested her hand on the coffee table for him to get off turned on the TV and found the Animal channel, “I would let you on the couch but I don't trust you not to burn it know that you have set that poor blanket on fire.” 

“What? But I did that because you wouldn't come! I won't burn the couch” eclipse huffed 

“No, you have not earned enough trust to be allowed on the coucaaaieh” she yelped as he bit her finger she as gently as she could dumped the fairy out of her hand and pulled her hand up but Eclipse stubbornly held on like a dog with a rope toy ok let gooooo! Zoe said her other hand coming up gently running her finger down his back making him let go and she quickly pulled her hands back away from the fairy leaving him stuck on the coffee table for the moment since his wing still hurt too much to fly. How do you think biting would change my mind? She asked shocked that he bit her not that it really hurt but he had bitten down hard enough to draw blood.

“Just die!” eclipse growled turning away from her to watch the TV but she noticed that his red cheek seemed to be an even darker color. Maybe he's embarrassed? There was a documentary about snow leopards, and the soothing voice of the narrator filled the awkward silence. 

“Working on it, I still need to find a pretty urn first.” she huffed taking the paperwork that was beside the fairy before he could get any ideas. Did the petals around his head just move? She watched him slowly turn around 

What? He asked looking back at her, what? She asked with a shrug her eyes scanning over the paperwork in her hands  holding her index finger out to not get blood on the paper too lazy to go get a bandaid right now eclipse growled looking back at the TV 

“Awww does the little fairy care about me?” she giggles knowing she was pushing his buttons she watched little flames flicker and die in his hand as he breathed deeply 

“No, I don't like humans, remember? What are those papers for?” eclipse asked seeing some big words that he had no idea the meaning of on that paper as she flipped through the bundle 

“This is either the nail in the coffin or a miracle, I just don't know if I want to fight anymore. I am tired of this long battle…” she said which just confused Eclipse more 

“What do you mean?” 

“I’ll spill my secrets as soon as you do.” at this eclipse turns back to the TV “nevermind”  and they calmly watch the documentary about snow leopards in silence telling zoe leans closer to the table her finger gently rubbing the back of eclipse head your head ok? It seems like you hit in when you fell, you want an ice pack she asked as he froze up for a few seconds before he swiped his claws at her finger. Making her pull her hand away as he got up, moving away from her and telling her not to touch, she took it as progress since he didn't try to bite her this time, and she didn't feel a bump on his head so that was a good sign. As the TV switch to a show about sea turtles she noticed Eclipse's head bopping she giggled slowly getting up and walking back into the kitchen getting the slightly burned blanket and coming back without saying anything she just gently warping the blanket around him before laying back down on the couch looking at the tv like she didnt do anything as eclipse looked over at her before snuggling into the blanket. she watches him out of the corner of her eyes as he slowly nods off, she notices that his wings disappeared, must be a fairy magic thing she thought. Once she is sure he is asleep she sighs seeing how he is lying, and gently moves him to lay more comfortably lowering the volume on the tv she yawns and stretches heading to her bed leaving the fairy on the coffee table trusting him and the fire alarms to not let the house burn down.

Wake up to the birds chirp and not the blaring scream of the fire alarms was a good sign as Zoe got up and ready for the day almost hoping to walk into the living room and find it empty and the fairy just be a dream, but as she walks down the hallway she hears him mumbling in his sleep, as she got closer she saw him curl up a look of pain on his face as he mumbled she went to the kitchen not stupid enough to try and wake him by touching him, coming back with a wooden spoon in hand hearing him mumbled “moon, sunny” before she gently started talking to him and gently poked him with the wooden spoon and was glad it wasn't her fingers as he jumps up with some fire swirls around him as he growled his claw digging into the wooded handle as he started at her with red eyes if looks could kill ‘sorry i you seemed like you were having a nightmare’ she watched his huffed his eyes slowly changing color back to orange “a bad nightmare want to talk about it?” 

“No” 

“Cool breakfast?” she asked bringing her hand closer to him, surprised then both when he climbed on. her thumb gently rubbing his back as she walked she smiled feeling him lean closer for a moment almost relaxed then tensed up and leaned away with a growl she didn't acknowledge that anything that happened but stopped not wanting to push her luck. Just gently put him down and started cooking. Only to see Eclipse on his tip toes trying to see what she was doing. If you promise not to bite me or set me on fire you can sit on my shoulder while I cook eclipse. She said not turning to face him

…. 

She almost thought he was going to walk away or try and fly down to the floor but then she heard the smallest sound of him saying ok. She was amazed by how warm he was as he sat on her shoulder, legs crossed, one hand holding her shoulder, the other a piece of her short hair, “you smell like a campfire.” she said as she finished cooking

“Is that a bad thing?” Eclipse asked she could hear the smile in his voice as she put him down and made their plate omelets seem like a good breakfast she thought as she gave Eclipse his share on a small saucer

“No, but the ashes and soot that you are tracking around is a problem so you need new clothes and a bath or should I start calling you a soot fairy? This earned a loud groaning complete with his tongue sticking out and head tilting back making Zoe giggle which in turn made Eclipse mad as he shouted about what was so funny. His claws failed to scratch the smooth marble island

She giggled oh nothing just eat before your omelet gets cold she said with a smile the paperwork from last night sitting in an envelope signed and ready to be mailed she was giving this last change a shot because the sign she asked for seemed to appear right when she needed him even if he was a feral little thing…

(Bonus/the stupid idea that popped into my head that made my dyslexic brain spiral down into making a whole character and background story of how Eclipses met her. This is after eclipse and Zoe have been ‘friends’ for a little while and something happens that makes his brothers and the gardener meet Zoe because of course eclipse knows where his older brothers are and has been keeping track of them. I hope I got eclipse personality right and you had fun reading and it's not a bunch of gibberish lol) 

Around the table is tarped up, and there is a garden hose running from one of the windows to the table. The Gardner shakingly holding the hose watching eclipses, Zoe sitting at the table looking relaxed with one of those metal flat cookie baking sheets in one hand and an oven glove with fingers on just in case a fight broke out, to hopefully lessen the burns and bite marks if she had to grab eclipse off one of his brothers, though moon had doubts this humans could move fast enough to stop any of them. They had decided to try and talk this all out with the human's help. Inside so no one could fly off or just attack and run as the house was close up and all of the fairies were standing at the table. Sunny had been the one to come up with the water hose idea worried about the house getting damaged. Eclipse moves away from Zoe about to start talking, already moving his arms around a little as he walks closer to the Moon, Sun, and Lunar. The Gardner panics squeezing the handle of the hose only to get sprayed in the face as Zoe had blocked the water with the baking sheet making the water go everywhere but the table her hand moves blocking Eclipse's path as she looks over at the Gardner that had fallen out of their chair in their panic and smacks then on the head with the pan “you want an early grave dumbass?” 

“Language! It's not nice to hit people!” Sunny shouts from behind the moon 

“It's not nice to try and spray people with water either, it was like they were trying to piss off Eclipse right off the bat.” Zoe huffed, rolling her eyes she barely tapped them. They were fine. 

“Language!” 

“Oh dammit, this is going to be harder than I thought.” Zoe huffed rubbing her head already feeling like she going to get a headache as the gardner picked themself up of the floor know wet and thoroughly embarrassed 

“Language!” 

“...dammit a bad word?” Zoe asked confused. angry sunny noises, eclipse cackling and the Gardner is stumbling through an apology.