#every day is a struggle not to collapse under the weight of how fucking bad things are and i don't know how much longer i can do this

[ace-of-hearts-and-spades]

.

[taiga-shark]

Claws

taiga and romeo have a chat. inspired by chain w/ @ficoandleo, with a small side of angst.

cw: suggestive (not explicit), slight blood, mention of much much more blood and violence.

Number of times today that Romeo has decided to replace the locking mechanism on the door: five.

Make that six.

Taiga kicks the door to the VIP room open as if this is just how people open doors. The damn thing has been whining in protest all day, every time it’s been opened, and it’s been driving Romeo fucking insane. The way Taiga just marked it with the sole of his boot, it’s probably broken for good now.

“What are y-” Romeo does not get the words out before Taiga drapes himself over his sniper like a shapeless bag of beans. It turns even Romeo speechless, if briefly.

Taiga growls something under his breath.

“Can’t you see I’m busy? It’s th-”

Another growl - lower, louder, and nowhere near human.

Romeo is acutely aware of the looks the security goons are giving him. He can already hear the hushed rumors spreading poison through the veins of the House. Don’t they hate each other? I thought they were fighting. No way, I definitely saw him on Taiga’s lap the other-

“Out. We are having a meeting,” he says with no small amount of struggle to maintain his dignity under Taiga’s dead weight.

The two guards exchange a glance, but they don’t move.

Romeo sighs. Ignoring his orders is hazardous to one’s health. “Did I lapse into Italian? Out.”

They hurriedly shuffle out the door before they get reintroduced to the business end of a gun.

Instead, he turns his wrath to the captain.

“You cannot just waltz in here like that!” he yells, not sure if he hopes they hear him outside or not. “Not if you’re going to-”

“Scritchies.”

It’s so muffled that Romeo isn’t totally sure what he heard. The only reason he is sure is because he knows Taiga, whether he wants to or not. He wills away a headache and gives a sharp sigh. “Fine.”

Taiga all but collapses to the floor until he’s more or less kneeling with his head in Romeo’s lap. He mumbles something else unintelligible. All that’s really clear is that it was a bad day. Romeo carefully works his gloves off, one finger at a time, then sets them aside. To think, his perfect manicure, reduced to this.

He traces the fingers of one hand into Taiga’s cayenne-red hair, parting the layers a little at a time until he can see the blonde fighting for its life closer to his scalp. Below that are scars - some from fighting, some from trying to shave his own hair, and plenty from attempting to peel his skull back to get at the brains underneath. Romeo slides the pads of his fingertips through the roots of Taiga’s hair.

Taiga emits a grunt and sinks more heavily onto Romeo’s lap, burying his face into a very expensive pair of pants. Romeo is trying, and struggling, and failing to keep his mind on his work of monitoring the casino cameras, while he less-than-absentmindedly strokes and scratches Taiga’s head with steadily increasing pressure.

He can feel Taiga start to relax, tension unwinding from him bit by bit. It starts to take hold of Romeo, too - tugging at the edges of his ever-working mind, suggesting he take a break, stay a while, the day can wait, come back to bed-

Something wet and cold is on his knee.

“Don’t drool on me, you bastard!” he cries indignantly. “Do you have any idea how m- mm!”

Taiga leaps on him like a coiled spring and crushes him into the couch. His shoulder silences Romeo’s cry and replaces it with the thick, heavy spice of his cologne, cut through with the tang of leather from the strap of his arm holster. His growl is back, irritated and vaguely threatening. A quick burst of fear flashes through Romeo - the constant wondering of is this finally it? is this the day he snaps? - but it’s gone as quickly, because he knows better. He knows Taiga better than that.

“Alright, alright! Fine, fuck.”

Taiga seems less sure, as he still has one knee digging into Romeo’s ribcage.

Romeo resumes his slow, deliberate massaging of Taiga’s hair. Almost immediately, Taiga calms down again, sinking against Romeo like all his bones just melted. He sighs aggressively, his breath swirling over the shell of Romeo’s ear and gripping him with an involuntary shiver.

Romeo waits for Taiga to say something about it. A joke, a comment, a question. But nothing comes.

Then Taiga inhales with a cold, crisp gust of air that showers Romeo’s neck with invisible sparks. Anyone else might react like a prey animal, this close to these eyes and those teeth. But Romeo is not one so easily intimidated. He remains still, trying not to think about how much he’s thinking about Taiga’s thighs pinning him in place.

“You smell nice today.” It’s so low and mumbled that it could be mistaken for distant thunder. It reverberates deep within Taiga’s chest and shakes Romeo’s heart.

“Tch,” he hisses into Taiga’s ear, precise and suppressed as a sniper’s bullet, “of course I do.” He sweeps both hands up through Taiga’s hair, allowing himself a dark chuckle when Taiga gives a blissful little shudder of his own. “You know how much I’ve spent on fragrances.” All for nothing, it seems, he thinks but does not say.

Taiga nods a little. “Mm-hmmm. Only the best for Lu~Lu…” It comes out in a singsong tone that most would take to mean he was teetering on the brink of insanity, but Romeo knows better. He knows Taiga better than that.

Romeo’s fingers move in symmetrical, rhythmic circles and twirls, catching longer pieces of Taiga’s hair and looping them around his digits, pulling them through with the tiniest scrapes of his beveled nails over the skin. This is what Taiga really wants - for someone to trace over his lines and scars, to rewrite his awful history with their pretty fingertips.

Taiga’s teeth come to rest oh so precariously on the infinite slice of air between his mouth and Romeo’s ear. “Tired of this.”

“Of what?” Romeo can tell he’s not talking about ‘this.’

“All this bullshit…” Taiga mumbles, tucking his hands around Romeo’s waist, moving with all the dexterity of a drunk.

Oh. That.

Romeo would rather this be a literal face-to-face conversation, but sometimes one must take the hand one is dealt. He sighs and nudges Taiga’s head with his own, breathing deep, all the way down until his lungs hurt. “I am, too.”

Taiga pushes himself away enough to lean down and nuzzle his face into the crook of Romeo’s neck, making it clear how badly he could mar the delicate skin if he felt like it. “Then stop it,” he insists.

Romeo is losing his will to fight, losing his ability to care, losing himself in the scent of Taiga’s hair. It’s nothing like his own, or like Leo’s. It’s not obsessively clean or conditioned within an inch of its life or preened to a fault - it’s honestly pretty gross, hasn’t been washed in long enough that he can tell, it’s oily and dirty and why does it smell so good, it’s fucking intoxicating - something about Taiga’s skin itself, something inherent, something that can’t be purchased or manufactured or fabricated.

Something real. That’s what it is about Taiga, isn’t it? He’s always real.

Romeo feels himself falling, sort of backwards and sort of just down, trying to stay on the couch until Taiga grabs him by the waist and yanks him down to the floor, rolling with the momentum so that Romeo ends up on the floor with Taiga grinning down at him. Taiga is showing an uncharacteristic amount of self-restraint - in months past, by this point, there would be at least some damage to Romeo’s clothing. Romeo’s eyes flutter shut as the memories - and the desire - spill into his mind.

“Look at me, Lu-Lu.”

Cold, smooth metal slides over his forehead, sweeping his hair aside, and Romeo opens his eyes halfway to see the backs of Taiga’s jeweled fingers framing his view of the captain. Black nails sharpened into points draw soft, irregular shapes on his sculpted cheekbones.

“You wanna know why.”

“What-?” Romeo frowned through the haze currently clouding his judgment. It was dark - too dark to see Taiga clearly, but enough light glinted off of those scissor-blade teeth to tell he was grinning. “Hng!”

Taiga dug a thumbnail into the thick, pulsing artery in Romeo’s neck. “You wanna know why I keep my nails long.” It wasn’t a question. “Because…”

Taiga’s face was suddenly a mere breath away. Moonlight blinked in his acid-green irises.

“Because you have such pretty eyes,” he murmured softly. The planes of his teeth punctuated the kisses he left beneath each one. “I’ll never find anyone else with eyes prettier than yours.”

Romeo looked as confused as he felt.

“But…just in case…” Taiga’s free hand ghosted over Romeo’s face, brushing the tip of his nose, before the edge of a nail stuck firmly - but not painfully - into the dewy, silken skin of his lower eyelid. “…in case I do find prettier ones…” His voice dropped to the lowest, most intimate whisper. “…I’ll be able to gouge them out…and give them to you.”

Romeo couldn’t breathe. Luckily, thanks to Taiga’s mouth eviscerating his, he didn’t have to.

But then the bickering started, and Taiga had started shortening his nails. Romeo thought he was clipping them (like a normal person), but closer inspection revealed tiny cuts on his fingertips and cuticles and knuckles. He was biting them back, uncaring of the damage he dealt to himself like a bad hand in poker. To anyone who got close enough to notice, it was a nervous habit.

To Romeo, it meant Taiga no longer cared. Not enough to commit grievous bodily harm on his behalf, anyway.

But his nails are sharp again. How long had they been sharp again? How blind had Romeo been, really? Had they really been fighting for that long that he hadn’t noticed?

Taiga’s rings slightly cool the fever burning through his skin. “You still have the prettiest eyes,” Taiga says wistfully.

Romeo manages to push himself up on his elbows and smirk at him. “I know that.”

Taiga bends low and kisses him, really kisses him, tongue curling languidly and shamelessly around Romeo’s, dissolving his favorite weapon into a mess of heartbeats and desperately pawing hands. Taiga grips one wrist and brings the deadly fingers close to his teeth, slicing neatly into one with the tapered edge of a tooth, eliciting a pained whine from Romeo that hides much darker wishes beneath the surface.

Taiga never blinks as he licks the blood away from Romeo’s trigger finger. “And you always will.”

x

[bullet-prooflove]

Remedial: Bode Leone x Reader

Tagging: @kmc1989 @muligatorrr @jeysbae @cloveroctobers @dizzybee03 @a-porcelain-gir1 @@missy203 @floydsglasses @@alixw22x @@shelbygeek  @yousigned-upforthis @zippeylay @@chickenshit03 @vaneyvfs @drunkangels @timmybradford @freecreationpost @words-and-seeds

Companion piece to Luke's 'Solitary Man' and Vince's 'One Night' - All pieces featuring the boys dealing with Sharon's death.

It starts with a remedial lesson because Bode is so fucking bad at actually taking care of people that Cap decides he needs extra help. At least that’s how he sees it at the time.

He’s fourth generation Cal Fire, he should be able to handle the Emergency Triaging Course but he doesn’t. Instead he fumbles the whole thing, he can’t remember the steps, the terminology slips right out of his head, he grows upset and frustrated because everyone else is keeping up but him...

He’s struggling.

There’s a lot riding on being here at Fire Camp, he feels the weight bearing down on his shoulders every damn day and sometimes it stifles him, it becomes so much that he feels like he can barely breathe.

“You must think I’m stupid.” He says as the two of you sit in a secluded space near the lake. Your leg stretched out in front of you as he tries to secure a bandage around it. You wince and he pulls away immediately, his gaze flickering up to meet yours. “Too tight?”

“I don’t think you’re stupid.” You tell him as you lean forward to untie the knot just under your knee. “But I do think you put yourself under a lot of pressure.”

“I need this program.” He tells you as he begins to unwind the bandage. “My dad hasn’t been doing well since my mom died, the thought of him being alone up here…”

He trails off, focusing on the task at hand.

“My mom she made me promise that I’d keep an eye on him, make sure he doesn’t become the grumpy old widower who lives up on that hill.” He finds himself telling you before he gently picks up your leg and resets the position. “She didn’t want us to drift apart the way we had before.”

“You carry a lot on your shoulders.” You say quietly as his warm palms navigate your calf. “I can’t imagine what it’s like trying to jump through all these hoops, while you carry that on your back.”

“It’s tough.” He says as he begins to wrap the bandage again. “Sometimes it feels like I’m sinking you know? And every time my head breaks the surface, something yanks me back down and I’m drowning all over again.”

“Is that what happened today?” You ask him softly.

“My hands were shaking.” He says, his voice a little rough. “I couldn’t grab hold of the bandage, I kept thinking of my mom, the night she collapsed…”

She’d been up here helping with the cookout when the seizure had hit her. She’d smashed her head on the picnic table on the way down, there had been so much blood. He’d tried to wake her up, stifle the bleeding, but rivets of crimson just kept running through his fingers.

“Bode,” You say gently, your palm coming to rest upon his shoulder.

It brings him back to the present, to the lake. He looks up at you and there’s such anguish in those vibrant blue eyes of his, such grief, such despair. Your palm comes to rest upon his cheek, your thumb chasing away the tears that stain his grizzled features.

For the first time in forever Bode finds himself taking a breath.

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[roonotrue]

Cult of the Lamb: Redemption Chapter #1

(((TW: Mildly graphicly written suicidal thoughts and ideations - DON'T READ IF THIS MAKES YOU UNCOMFORTABLE)))

Pain - Narinder

Narinder didn't realize how much it would... Hurt.

To be free.

His arms hurt, his body hurt, and his head hurt.

As a god, he had never felt pain like this, which was the first of many signs that he was no longer divine.

And that terrified him. His arms hurt so badly he couldn't move them, and for a moment it felt like the ghosts of his chains still held him in place. His head ached from the light of the sun stabbing through the window of his home, into his light-sensitive eyes.

He can't move. His whole body feels like lead against the soft bed below him. Blankets weigh even heavier on top of him, adding to the feeling of being restrained. He wants to thrash around and escape from under them, but his limbs cramp up with every attempt he makes to move them.

And the jolt of fear that surges through him at that realization makes him want to scream out in agony and terror.

But centuries of captivity have taught him the uselessness of struggling. Have taught him patience. So he clamps his jaw shut and keeps his eyes sealed closed. Trying to listen.

He only just joined his usurpers cult as a follower yesterday, the adrenaline from their fight hadn't even left his system and suddenly the damn Lamb was showing him to his own private grand shelter, set up farther away from the other followers for 'safety purposes.' Whether the Lamb meant for him or the rest of the cult he still isn't sure.

He didn't know how to respond, he was tired. So very tired. He had never felt tired before, but this mortal body... He secured the shelter as soon as the Lamb was gone. Barricading the entrance, and windows, sealing himself inside before allowing himself to collapse into the bed and rest.

Now he's not sure how much time has passed, just that it is daylight, and that the adrenaline of everything that's happened has now left this newly mortal body of his in shambles.

Freedom. He had wanted it so bad, and now he has it, but it's nothing like he had hoped.

He is angry and miserable, he wants to scream and cry, and he wants to go back in time and wring that lamb's neck when he has the chance instead of handing over the crown to the filthy traitor. He feels like a fool, powerless, and afraid.

Trapped by something even worse than the chains his siblings had used on him. Pain.

Speaking of the Red Crown's new wearer, as if summoned like a bat out of hell, a banging on the dresser Narinder had shoved in front of the curtain door to prevent any other pathetic followers from wandering in, or worse the said lamb.

"Narinder! It's breakfast! Well- lunch, you missed breakfast, I tried to have Noon bring you some food, but they said you did... Well, this." Narinder can only assume they're referring to the barricade.

"Leave me be, wretched traitor, I have better things to do than mingle with your pathetic following over subpar mortal slop." His voice almost cracks when he tries to shift his weight to lay on his back mid-sentence.

Thus he remains on his side facing away from the entrance, his back to the sound of the lamb's voice. Something that causes a trickling of unease to build in his mind, which he tries his best to ignore for now.

"No-can-do! At least, not right now, you need to eat! You're mostly mortal now, and even if age can't kill you, starving sure can!" There's a nervous laughter in their voice as they continue to stand outside.

The Lamb could easily get through the barricade, with his fucking powers that they stole. So why they aren't just barging in with no respect for their former god and master's privacy or personal space, he has no clue.

"Starving? How pitiful do you think I am? 'Mostly mortal' or not, I will survive without food for a day. Now leave me alone." He's not sure that even if he wanted to, he could claw his way out to get food. Or that his violently churning stomach could hold it down.

His whole body feels like it's slowly spinning from the splinting pain of his head and he's certain that if his stomach wasn't empty he'd have puked by now.

"Okay, listen, I get that after everything that's happened, you want to be alone, and I'll leave you alone! After you eat something, because, sure, a day won't kill you, but when was the last time you ate during your godlyhood? I'm willing to bet never, at least not during your time chained up, and that can't have translated well to your new form." Nothing has translated well to this new damn form, and it makes him snap.

"What part of leave me alone don't you understand!? I'm not eating even if you shove it down my throat!- Ack!" He hisses and tries to, in a burst of anger-fueled energy, shove himself around onto his back.

Instead, the effort sends a cascade of cramping through his back and down his arms.

His body spasms and curls in on itself and he grits his teeth trying to stop the whimpering from escaping his lips. He sounds pathetic. He is pathetic. Fates save him from the humiliation of the lamb having heard his pain at least...

"What was that about!? Are you okay in there!?" 

It's like the universe hates him.

That's the only real reasoning he can come up with. Fate, the universe, and everything in between literally hate him. And for what? Wanting to be more than what everyone told him he was?

He calls bullshit. Fate is bullshit, and the universe is bullshit, and everything in between is bullshit.

He wants to bury his head under his pillow and stay there until time itself brings this whole world crashing to an end.

"Narinder? Do you need help? If you don't answer I'm coming in!" Once more the Lamb is banging on the dresser-made door.

"I'm fine! Go away! Don't make me tell you again!" The threat comes out strangled and weak.

Still, there is a long moment of silence. For a moment he lets himself hope that the usurper has done as he's asked, and left, but with no footsteps away to confirm this, he knows they are still out there. Perhaps carefully debating their next sentence.

"... I know I'm the last person you want to see, let alone accept help from, and trust me when I say right now the feeling is mutual, but Narinder... If you are in pain... Or you're sick and that's why you're not eating, please, just tell me... I'm only trying to help." Help?

Help?

"I think I'd rather lie down and let you kill me before I let you help me." The words are barely a hissed whisper, but he knows they hear him.

There's a sharp inhale and a frustrated groan. Along with footsteps pacing back and forth before they suddenly stop and respond again.

"Fine! But news flash One Who Waits! This is going to be a hard adjustment for you! And if you want to go through it alone and make it all the harder, then fine! Be alone! Stay in your shelter all day, every day, and starve! See if I care!" They shout at the door.

Sounding angry, and fed up.

"That's what I'm planning on doing!" It wasn't, but with the pain making it hard to move, it is now.

"Fine!" And he can hear them storming off, hooved feet kicking at the ground at random intervals as they do.

...

It's true. He'd rather suffer here alone than accept that traitors help.

You betrayed them first.

He saved their life! His pathetic Bishop kin would have executed them if he hadn't given them a new lease on life.

And all he asked was for a cult in his name, for them to free him from his chains, and return the crown to him.

And kneel and accept being sacrificed to you.

All of this... This pain, this headache, the dampness in the corners of his eyes that he's trying so hard to not let spread down his cheeks... It's all their fault.

They should have at least killed him. Why couldn't they at least finish the damn job? That pathetic, traitorous, coward. Keeping him alive just to suffer.

Surely they've done this on purpose? This was some twisted way to prolong his agony as if being imprisoned for thousands of years by his own family wasn't enough torture.

Damn them. Damn them and every last one of their dead kin.

He would rather starve. Starve to death and at least go on his own terms. Hell if he had the physical strength and a sharp enough tool he'd turn it on his wrist right now. The Lamb probably won't even come by to check on him for a long while after that spat.

So at least they would have a small respite before the cursed creature maybe resurrected them.

But no, his whole disgusting body was failing him. He would have to die the slow way.

In a sick way, he's curious about it. What does hunger feel like? Heket complained of it often, even while she was eating she would be complaining about needing another meal prepared. The Goddess of Famine knew hunger like no other.

But the concept was foreign to Narinder. He ate sometimes when he was a god. The feeling was strange. Things tasted good, like fish, but they served no other purpose than to satisfy his tastebuds.

His stomach never longed for anything. Never ached in hunger pangs, never churned with nausea from eating something bad...

His mortal body... It will wither without food. His stomach will concave as he loses weight, and he'll become weaker, sicker, and lethargic. His skin will stretch over his ribs and bones making him look like a skeleton with fur... A horrific sight, befitting of the former and rightful God of Death.

A true testament to his fall from power, into a form as tragic as this, that decays at the mere lack of sustenance for a few days.

Or more. How long will it take? He wonders.

For his organs to start failing. His heart will go first, and the rest will quickly follow, having strained for so long to keep him alive... What will be the last thing he sees? Probably darkness. The light is too bright in the daytime for him to bear keeping his eyes open.

That's okay. He's never been afraid of the dark.

Kallamar was. He was scared of a lot of things though. Including him.

Heket wasn't. Nor Leshy. The two slept like logs at night, while Narinder would wander awake with Shamura- being nocturnal beings by nature.

Sometimes...

Sometimes when they were both still little, and Kallamar had a bad day and was scared to go to bed, Narinder would sneak into his room, and distract him. Annoy him really, but deep down, he thinks his older brother appreciated it. Not being alone.

It only lasted a few years though, just before the squid reached his teen years and became completely insufferable.

...

What would they all think of him now? Preparing himself to rot from starvation... Would they think him weak for accepting such a defeat? For giving in to this mortal body's suffering and allowing himself to perish in such a pitiful way...

Would they want him to live? No. No, they wouldn't...

They'd enjoy this... Seeing him turn to skin and bone. Watching him suffer in too much pain to even move, much like when he was chained.

It isn't until the light starts to fade and he can open his eyes finally that he realizes he failed.

And now the entire spot where his head rests on his pillow is wet with tears.

In the darkness, he can only really see what's in front of him. His head refuses to lift itself up or move without pain.

He is staring right at a window, the red curtains are closed, and it's blocked off with a turned sideways dark wooden table, but moonlight peaks in from the sides and top.

There is a side table. With a vase of Camellias in the corner. Just like the one Baal used to wear on his robes.

...

In the end, they all died for nothing, didn't they? The lambs, the Bishops, Aym, and Baal...

Everything he was trying to do... All of his elaborate plans...

They've all amounted to nothing.

It's then that another knock, soft and gentle rings through the room.

"Narinder? I want to... Apologize. I lost my temper earlier. It's just... Difficult to be nice to you. I mean, you... You know what? It doesn't matter right now. I've decided, that if you don't want to accept my help, I can't force you to. But, I still don't want you to starve, and I don't think you want to either so... I'll just leave some food out here for you. I don't really know what you like, but it's a fish bowl... Will that do?" The Lamb.

Narinder is thirsty he realizes, because when he goes to speak his mouth is dry, and he has to choke the words out.

"Fine... It's fine..." He calls, and he can hear them hesitating.

"Can I ask again if you're okay?"

"No." He responds much more firmly this time, his voice still gravelly.

"Right... Well, I'll bring breakfast tomorrow."

And they're gone. Footsteps softly fade away like a ghost in the night floating off to find a new victim to haunt.

...

Why couldn't they have just killed him?

~~~

The pain is still there when he wakes up again, and his mouth is disgustingly dry. It is early morning, and the light is not yet intolerable though, and he will take that victory for what little it is.

It smells like it rained last night.

Something about that makes him feel better.

Despite the oily feeling of his filthy fur, matted with blood and dirt. Despite his body still cramping with the phantom chains tightening around them like a serpent choking the life out of its prey.

Despite everything the smell of fresh, chilly damp air... Refreshes him.

He feels lighter. Cleaner. Content.

He takes a deep breath and for a moment... Everything is... Okay.

He opens his mouth, trying to breathe in the humidity of the air, hoping it will help with the soreness in his throat.

"I thought you hated the rain?"

"I don't hate the rain, I hate getting wet. My fur gets all heavy and takes forever to dry, and if I use a towel, it makes it all poofy, and the others tease me."

"I see."

"But I like watching the rain. And the smell of rain... It smells... Like the sky's cleaning the earth. Making everything as good as new again."

And then... Everything comes rushing back to him.

Like an anvil falling onto his chest, and it's hard to breathe as he chokes on a loud, surprised sob. Tears invade his eyes, flowing down his face onto the pillow.

Nothing is okay. That peace he felt... Just a cruel trick of his mind, making him forget.

A momentary respite before the world came crashing back down on him. He can never be content again. Never be okay or at peace.

He is angry. Frustrated. Grieving. Confused about what he's grieving. Their deaths? Their souls are trapped eternally in a hellish limbo, re-living their deaths so that they can feel the same pain he had felt for thousands of years... That's what he'd wanted.

For them to suffer.

And yet still his chest hurts and his lungs are heaving, and his cries are so loud he has to turn his face into the pillow to muffle them. Why does this anguish for his family that turned against him haunt him now?

It must be this body. This pathetic mortal body with its hyper-sensitive emotions, and non-existent pain tolerance. It's done nothing but weigh him down, dragging him below the waves.

Drowning him in sensations, feelings, and emotions he doesn't understand. Suffocating him in pain, and grief that he can see no end to. This form betrays him at every turn and it's not even been 42 hours.

At least he thinks it hasn't been.

Most of his first day is a haze, he remembers sleeping through the pain for the most part. Then arguing with the Lamb through the barricade. Then sleeping again.

After of course, contemplating his inevitable starvation. And after speaking to the lamb again...

"Can I ask again if you're okay?"

They're going to bring him breakfast soon. He doesn't know if they'll come inside and set it down or just leave it on the ground outside for him.

Would he even be able to go get it?

It's now that he starts to realize some of the pain has subsided. Everything is still cramping, and his head still throbbing, but with the smell of the rain and the growling of his stomach...

He's able to turn onto his back and only has to stop for a minute to grit his teeth and breathe for a moment. The fur around his eyes and cheeks is still wet with tears, and his chest is still heavy. He tries to focus on the smell of rain, but it does little to ease his thoughts.

All it does is remind him of simpler times.

Before the pain, and the headache, and the nausea, and the humiliation of defeat still burning through his veins.

It's getting brighter in the room, and he's able to take a deep stuttered breath as his eyes close to block out the painful light of morning. He should get the sniffling under control before the lamb gets here.

The last thing he needs is for that malicious sheep to know he's been crying- because Narinder knows that the damned creature is too old to still be considered a lamb. Has been since before the bishops ever went to execute them, but he knows his siblings never cared for technicalities.

Hell at some point they probably even started enjoying committing mass genocide of all sheep to prevent his freedom. Rams, ewes, and lambs, none were spared. All precautions taken to keep him locked away... They must have hated him so much to turn so ruthless. To become feared monsters, rather than beloved gods.

All to keep him caged.

By the time the sun has risen and the room is painfully bright, like clockwork, the lamb is knocking on the 'door' of the shelter.

"Narinder? Are you awake? I still don't know exactly what you like to eat, so I brought you a mixed meal. I see you didn't eat the fish, so I'll throw that out I guess..." They call, and he struggles not to groan.

He had kind of wanted that fish. He liked fish and it's been a long... Long time since he's had the chance to eat any. But what the hell was he supposed to do? He couldn't fucking move.

And he was still standing strong on not asking for help from his usurper.

He could move a bit more today though. He could at least try and sit up and eat... Then again, he doubts he'll be able to move the dresser out of the way to grab the food.

He could ask the lamb to bring it inside as a plan B. That doesn't count as helping him. Right? But does he want the lamb to see him in this state?

Absolutely not.

So he's back to plan A. Starve.

Sounds good enough for him. Or at least it does until his stomach decided to growl obnoxiously loud.

"See! I knew you were hungry! Please, just come take the damn bowl, I don't want to leave it on the ground, the bugs or birds might get it! Or Theeno. He steals food a lot. I'm working on that." So they are going to make another fight out of this.

"I'll come and get it when I'm ready! And if your damn follower tries to nab it then he can expect my claws across his face!" He hisses, and the Lamb lets out an exaggerated sigh.

"You're getting on my nerves, Narinder, can I at least just come in and set it down?" Hm. An opening for plan B... He still doesn't want the Lamb to see him...

He's buried mostly in blankets and pillows, so if he tosses his aching body back towards the window, he doubts the Lamb would truly get a good look at him...

And then your back will be exposed, clear as day for a second knife to find purchase.

He tries to shake away the insecurity, and it's not hard when his stomach growls once more. What's the worst the sheep could do? Kill him? It's what he wants anyway.

Is it?

He just barely holds in a painful groan as he turns back onto his side, curling even further into himself as he does.

"Fine. But I'm not getting up, move the dresser yourself." He calls, only mildly breathless, as he tries to steady his breathing again.

"Great! I was kinda gonna come in anyway if you didn't respond." Oh, if he could move...

He might take his chances trying to wring their neck.

Instead, he clenches his teeth to keep the anger from seething out and keeps his ears tuned into the sound of the dresser being easily shoved aside, the sound of wood grating against wood.

"Okie-Doki, I'll just put this right here. That okay?" He can feel their black beady eyes on him, with their burning red pupils.

"Whatever, it's fine. Make sure you put that dresser back on your way out." He grumbles, flinching only slightly when hears the lamb step closer to him.

At the clear sight of said flinch they stop moving.

"Of course. Anything else you need? Are you okay? I was thinking about building a few upgrades onto your shelter since you clearly don't plan on leaving, and I can see having to use the bathroom becoming a problem in the near future. And bathing."

Right. Of course, this body is going to need to use the bathroom. And even when he was a little godling, he needed to bathe regularly. He hasn't had a bath since before he was imprisoned.

Poor Aym and Baal. standing beside a god that reeked of blood and death for all that time. He had grown jaded to the stench of death, but he was still aware that it must not be pleasant.

"Do whatever you want, so long as you don't disturb me." It would make it more convenient for his solitude, and prevent him from having to bite the bullet and ask for help to be carried to the outhouses- because he was not going to shit himself anytime soon.

God or not, he had to keep some of his dignity intact.

"Right, no disturbing your wallowing, got it. I'll set to those renovations ASAP, I'll even do them myself so none of the followers accidentally annoy you and get killed." He snorts at that. Almost laughs.

"Wise decision."

And like that, his dresser is being pulled back into place, with what sounds like little to no effort.

...

His stomach growls again.

Now to get this body to sit up and eat...

... This is going to take a while.

[justyourtypicalwriter]

ask game ✨ for uhh everyone you wanna answer these for: 👿🧸🏳️‍🌈 :3

Omg this didn’t save before

👿-How do they cope with ableism?

Wendy:

“You don’t look like you’re disabled.”

“Mmmm well by saying that *proceeds to go on a thirty minute rant about how that harms the community by making more people believe stereotypes*”

Stan:

I feel on a good day he’d just ignore, ignore, ignore until the problem goes away. On a bad day he might have a bit of a panic attack but it is what it is

Kenny:

He’d laugh, maybe make some semi inappropriate jokes about it for the most part. That is until someone tries to grab at his dog, I feel like he’d have a complete mood switch and start spewing out their full name and address and doxx them or something😭

Kyle:

“You don’t look like you’re disabled.”

“You’re nose doesn’t look broken-“

He then proceeds to get them both kicked out of the store

Bebe:

Would call the ableist person every slur under the sun and record herself doing so to post on TikTok…or stomp on their foot if she’s in heels

Cartman:

Doxx them but also make death threats against their families. Where do you think the doxx list came from?

Clyde:

Probably show off some kinda goofy ass thing he can do because of his hyper flexibility like the hEDS king he is to scare them off…then whine about it later-

🧸-Do they have a comfort item?

(THIS IS CREEPY BC I WAS JUST WRITING ASSIGNING THE KIDS COMFORT ITEMS😭)

Wendy:

This big ass fluffy hoodie that’s honestly big enough to cover her like a blanket. It’s one of those fleece lined ones with a hood too

Stan:

Oof uhm I was gonna say Sparkys dog tags because he wears them a lot after he dies but I have a feeling he should have something else too…

Kenny:

I’m surprised I haven’t mentioned this one before but it’s a little odd. It’s a hand sewn stuffed possum made from scraps from his friends old clothes. Kenny got hand-me-downs from them on occasion and knew that they weren’t exactly Karens style, so he repurposed them

Kyle:

Soft things. Preferably stuffed animals (in specific this stuffed fox he has). He seems like someone who’d appreciate soft things like that

Bebe:

A plush deer she was gifted from Wendy! It’s cute and has a pink bow!

Cartman:

His goofy ass dolls and stuffed animals. Live laugh love Clyde Frog

Clyde:

Idk he seems like a weighted blanked type guy. When he was little he probably tried to used one to build a blanket fort or something. But it didn’t fucking work because they’re WEIGHTED and Clyde’s a dumbass, instead it collapsed the whole fort and probably knocked a chair ontop of him

🏳️‍🌈-A random headcanon about them and their disability

(I’m just gonna answer more from the list lmao😭)

Wendy:

😺 - Is there anything they enjoy about being disabled?

Designing gear designs for Nike! Especially if it’s a bad day and she can’t really do anything

Stan:

❤️ - Would they have any advice for someone else struggling with their disability?

‘Someday you’ll find someone who wholeheartedly believes that you matter’

Kenny:

🌞 - What does a 'good day' look like for them? Is there anything they like to do on their good days?

Picnics with the rest of the m5 at Starks Pond! Just being able to look at the animals with Butters, or swim in the pond with Stan, or listen to Kyle point out all the different types of plants or roughhouse with Cartman is what he cherishes the most!

Kyle:

📋 - Are they diagnosed? Do they want a diagnosis?

Kyle is diagnosed! Not like he wanted it, the motherfucker just wanted to be treated normally

Diabetes at 4, PTSD & ARFID at 11, and POTS at 13

Bebe:

🌻 - Do they do anything that helps manage their disability? (Ie medication, hot and/or cold patches, set sleeping times, ect)

Salty snacks EVERYWHERE. I kid you not there’s some kind of salty food stashed in almost every room of her fucking house

Cartman:

🧑‍⚕️ - Do they have a carer or anyone who helps with their disability? What are they like?

I guess I’d have to say Dolly. She’s a little rat shit but she adores him and he adores her

Clyde:

🦾- How does their disability effect their daily life? How do they overcome some of the struggles thrown at them?

I’d have to say random dislocations although there’s plenty of shit his ass has to deal with every day

[kiridarling]

"𝐒𝐈𝐌𝐎𝐍 𝐒𝐀𝐘𝐒."

izuku midoriya | friends older brother!izuku + college student!reader + f!reader + squirting + size kink + more! minors dni! does this count? as dark content?

— 2.4k words

"It's simple: I'll stuff you full with two fingers, but they only do what simon says. Understand?"

“[Y/N?]”

“Uh, hey Izuku!” You smile, grip tightening around the strap to your bag. Izuku fills the doorway, broad shoulders kissing both sides of the frame, and you can’t help but feel minuscule in comparison. “Kota around?”

Izuku shakes his head, peering over his shoulder for a second before returning his attention to you with a click of his tongue. "Uh, no I think he's out with Eri. They should be back soon though...it's been a few hours."

"Shit," you curse under your breath. Your friend's older brother smiles in apology, biceps straining under his white tee.

"You need something?"

"Yeah," you nod, forcing your eyes back onto his, instead of the broad chest presented at eye-level. "Just my precalc book."

Izuku waits a second, thinking, before his palm claps against the doorframe and he's walking deeper into the house. "Come on in, then! I'm sure he won't mind."

You step into the house after him, and it's...weird. Weird being with your Kota's older brother without Kota there, because despite the thousands of times you've been in your best friend's house and as well as you know the greenette, you and Izuku have never been alone.

"Find it?"

You've been rummaging through Kota's room for a solid ten minutes and somehow still empty-handed, moving slowly in fear you'll see something you can't unsee. And hey, with Kota and Eri dating, anything's possible.

"No," you sigh, ready to give up rather than find a strap-on. "It's fine. I can just come to get it tomorrow or something."

"How soon do you need it?" The greenette asks, his forearms leaning against his younger brother's dresser. You take a seat on Kota's comforter instead, silently hoping you'll find your book by accidentally breaking your tailbone against the damn thing; you're a little disappointed when all your ass comes in contact with is a plush mattress.

"Like, tonight," you grieve, knowing that tomorrow morning, your math grade will suffer severely. "'S fine though. There's always another test."

Izuku snorts at that, crossing the room to take a seat next to you. The bed whines under his weight but doesn't collapse, and you feel a little bad to say you're surprised. Voice full of reminiscence, he sighs, "Ah, the college days."

You giggle, "You act like they're lightyears behind you."

"They might as well be," the greenette shrugs, before reaching behind your waist to steal a pillow. "Couldn't tell you a thing I learned."

You shrug trying to remember the last time you’ve felt prepared for a test, “Neither can I.”

Izuku chuckles and nods, though you’re convinced it’s because he has nothing to say. An awkward silence takes possession of the room by the neck, and you shift awkwardly, unsure of what to say that could give you an excuse to leave, or at least redirect his strange yet heavy gaze. As Izuku licks his lips, you notice how close you two actually are, as he's big to the point where your shoulders almost brush, but not quite.

"How um, hows your boyfriend?"

You scoff at that, but you suppose it's been a while since you and the greenette have talked one on one—and the last time you had, you weren't single.

"Oh uh, he's fine, I guess," you brush it off with a shrug and a wave, cringing at the thought of how that ended. "I don't know. We broke up a while ago, so."

"Oh sorry!" Izuku flushes and throws a hand over his mouth, and you giggle.

"You're fine. He was an asshole anyway," you chuck a laugh, but it's not really that funny. Frankly, he's left too many emotional scars to count, along with the ones healing from past exes. "I...don't have a good reputation when it comes to picking boyfriends."

“So, I’ve heard—no offense,” he says sheepishly, though you don't blame him. You've definitely had a few surprise visits caused by a nasty break-up or two, knowing this is the place you'll probably find both of your best friends hiding out. When Izuku speaks again, it’s borderline awkward as his eyes dart around the room, cheeks puffed and lips pursed in apprehension. “Found...anyone new?”

You frown, “Anyone new.”

“Yeah!” Izuku exclaims, and it’s almost encouraging. “Like a new boyfriend.”

“Oh,” you laugh, shaking your head. “Um, no. Like I said, I don’t have much luck with that type of stuff.”

Izuku snorts, rolling his eyes before he’s adjusting himself to lay on the pillow, half of his body upright. “I bet you do. You might not realize it, but you do.”

Now it’s your turn to snort and roll your eyes, leaning back on your hands with a huff. "You're just being nice, Izuku."

"No, seriously!" He props himself higher so you can see he really is serious, evergreen eyes locked and deadset, "Like—okay, and this might be a TMI or something, but how do they, y'know, and then be dicks, y'know?"

"They don't."

"They don't...what?"

"They don't...make me cum," you heave with great depression, despite the seemingly surface-level complaint. With wrists tightening around your ankles, you hate uncomfortably in the silence, and watch Izuku's mouth open and close, before it opens and closes again.

"Like...never?"

"No." You give him a weird look.

"But what about your last boyfriend? I thought he—"

"I don't know what you're looking for, Izuku," you chuckle, shaking your head. The greenette seems more pained than he is shocked, eyes wide with a big fat pout in place of a neutral face. "It's not like I haven't had an orgasm before. Just...not with someone else."

"That's not the same!" Izuku defends, slowly becoming more animated than you've ever seen him. "It's like...more passionate with another person, you know? And that makes everything a whole lot hotter."

"Thanks," you huff, mood souring more than it already has. Izuku's mouth stills once he realizes what he's essentially bragging, guilt clouding his face. As you exhale out of your nose, you can't escape feeling bad for snapping. "Look. I'm perfectly fine with being the only person to be able to make myself cum. It's not that deep."

"You sound like you expect no one to be able to," Izuku snorts with a raised eyebrow, shoulders bumping against yours. "You've just...had bad boyfriend luck. That doesn't mean no one's capable of doing it."

"Well," you click your tongue bitterly, because you've heard all of this before, and you're utterly tired of hearing it. "They've been able to make all their exes orgasm. And it's not like it even matters, relationships aren't abou—"

"I could do it."

"I—" you blink, shaking your head at the pure audacity of his request? Suggestion? Comment? Whatever the fuck. "Excuse me?"

"I—wait, listen," Izuku rushes like you're getting ready to book it the fuck out of there, sitting upright so his body is turned to yours. "You're...it's...I've been told I'm good with my fingers, right?"

And what a way to start a story.

"Izuku, in the nicest way, every guy is like this," you scoff, "He thinks he's all that just because a chick or two said you made her feel really good. I don't need to fake another orgasm."

"You won't have to," Izuku purrs cockily, leaning forwards on his hands and making you wonder where all of this is coming from. "Let's play a game of simon says, yeah?"

"Simon—" your chest collapses with a giggle of pure disbelief, "I'm not that much younger than you, you know."

"I wouldn't be offering if you were," the greenette reasons, eyes growing dark slowly, if any. "Yes or no?"

"What's the catch?" You bargain and Izuku huffs a laugh. You can feel it on your face.

"No catch, Pretty," he hums, and you can feel the vibrations in your fingers. "It's simple: I'll stuff you full with two fingers, but they only do what simon says. Understand?"

You gulp as Izuku lifts a hand—and a very large one, at that—and it's jagged and rough with scars and bulky knuckles. His free hand makes you grab his wrist and you're fingertips barely touch, but you’re pulling his hand south by your own volition.

“Gotta take your pants off first,” he chuckles, and you flush red. That would be helpful, yes.

It doesn't take long before they're off though, flung towards a corner somewhere—and this is when you realize that maybe, you shouldn't do this on Kota's bed.

"Izuku maybe we shoul—"

But before you can say anything else, he's pushing your panties to the side and shoving both fingers into you at once, eyebrows folding as he groans under his breath from the sensation.

"So wet already? Clearly, someone likes this more than they let on."

"I—what the fuck happened to simon says!" You yelp, but his fingers don't move. Izuku just beams like the deceptive asshole he is.

"Game starts now," is all he says, and you're huffing, propping yourself up on your elbows. Izuku's fingers might as well have knocked the wind out of you, lungs struggling to find room to breathe as he curls his fingers to tap directly onto your g-spot with worrying precision.

"Simon says um, move please," you grunt out. Izuku's fingers stay still, and you frown, kicking him in the thigh. "Hey, I sai—"

"You gotta be more specific than that, Pretty,” he says with a grin. You snarl. "Tell me what you want me to do to you."

"I..." you start, but it's fucking embarrassing, and you know Izuku feels you twitch around him when you say: "Can you um, fuck me with your fingers."

He doesn't move.

"Simon says fuck me with your fingers, asshole," you grunt with narrowed eyes, though they widen when he starts to pump his fingers in and out, chuckling when you shiver from the dexterity.

Except, his fingers move painfully slow, and you find yourself gritting your teeth at the speed when he doesn't make an effort to go any faster. You click your tongue—he's really going to make you request everything, isn't he?

"Simon says faster," you growl with a challenge burning in your eyes, and Izuku meets them with equal fire, fingers finally forgetting their torturous pace for a much quicker one. Finally.

"Fuck! Simo—simon says right t-there," your legs spread wider and Izuku makes more room for himself in between. He hums with dark eyes as you whimper and whine his name, writhing in his younger brother's sheets like they belong to him—like you belong to him.

"I wanna touch you all the time, you know," Izuku grunts before cursing at the sight of your wetness around his fingers. "Make you feel good, make you mine. I don't think Kota would approve, though."

"We don—" you wheeze and he places a hand next to your head, towering over you. The angle only gets better, your hands digging into the sheets as Izuku's fingers curl just right. "We don't have to tell him."

Izuku chuckles at that, chest rumbling as he leans in closer to the point where your noses nearly touch. "You dirty fucking girl."

You moan at that, hips bucking into his hand. You're so close and yet you need more, something else to push you over the edge for good. With a whimper behind a bitten lip, you say, "S-Simon says rub my clit."

Izuku's thumb falls upon your clit and you squeal from the amount of initial pressure, thighs jolting from the white-hot waves that pump through your bloodstream as his thumb moves in small, ever-quickening circles that have you gripping for Kota's comforter for dear life.

"Iz—Izuku I'm gonna—g-gonna cum," you pant, and he's ripping his hands away before you can even reach a hint of the edge. You glare at him out of pure and utter betrayal, and he beams.

"Simon didn't say, did he?"

Your mouth flies open before your brain has time to process it all, "Simon says make me cum, p-please, I need to—fuck!"

Izuku's stuffing you full with his fingers in an instant and his thumb returns to its rightful place.

"Yeah? You gonna cum for me, Pretty?" His hands somehow find the energy to speed up to the point where the clap of his palm against your pussy fills the room, slowly being replaced by a lewd squelch as you tighten around him. He chuckles when all you can do is whimper, grappling for his big shoulders as he says, "Oh, yes she is. So fucking close I can feel it."

You let out a broken moan and in a blink you're squirting, body buzzing as you make a big wet mess of Kota's sheets. It doesn't even register how screwed you two are because you're too busy wading waist-deep in the sea of Izuku's eyes, chest heaving in time with his as he gives you a look of pure awe. Not at what you've done, per se, but at you, and that's when you understand it—the passion.

"We should uh, probably clean up," Izuku flushes as he chuckles, cheeks pressing into the crescents of his face, and you find yourself smiling along with him. With a final click, he pulls his fingers out, gesturing to a circular wet spot on his now see-through shirt. "You made quite a mess."

Fuck the passion.

You shove your fists into his chest and Izuku laughs, pushing your hands away with his one dry free hand, wiping the wet one on Kota's sheets.

"Izuku!" You gasp, looking at the new and improved addition to your mess. The greenette shrugs.

"What? We're going to have to clean it anyway," he shrugs before assuming the dry spot to your right and nestling his forearms in the pillow to peck you on the forehead. Then he freezes.

"I uh...am I allowed to do that?"

You roll your eyes, grabbing him by his squirt-soaked shirt to pull him into a kiss. Izuku hums at that, suppressing the urge to smile as his big hands find their way to your waist. He's an annoyingly good kisser

"No, you're not," you say with swollen lips once you pull away. Izuku grins, teeth digging into his bottom lip as his eyes flutter to yours for a moment, before they're staring into your soul again.

"I like you," he boldly states, albeit quietly, like he's talking to your eyes and nothing else. "Like, a lot."

"I—" You start, but you're interrupted by a click of a lock and the sound of the front door opening. Shit.

"Oi! We're home, Izuku!"

[miraeluc]

you have an eating disorder

prompt: “you never had issues with food - that is until your boyfriend makes a remark about your weight.”

pairing: katsuki bakugo x female! reader

word count: 1.6k

warnings: MAJOR TW!! anorexia, there’s swearing

genre: fluff, angst 

NOTE: this is not proofread at all and it’s kinda short, i was struggling to finish it a lot, sorry :(

you were never one to pay special attention to your diet or anything

life is short, why spend it worrying about how your body looks?

food is food man, and you need it to live 

there was no fun in dieting either, it’s not like you were ever fat anyway - with daily training you were in shape!

sure there were thinner girls, but like i mentioned, you just liked enjoying food without having to worry about losing weight all the time 

your boyfriend, bakugo, just does not know how to express himself 

he’s not the type to really pay any mind to your figure, he finds you pretty anyway 

and its a plus anyway - whenever he feels full he can just push his plate towards you and you’ll gladly finish it for him 

that is until one day

you were sitting with the baku squad at lunch

mina was telling you about a new tiktok trend she had stumbled upon and found hilarious 

denki was currently fighting for his life against bakugo after saying his hair looked like he was just hit by an electricity quirk before he proceeded to zap him lightly 

kirishima was regretting all of his life decisions when he decided to try and help denki 

sero was just sat there,, recording it so he could show them just how stupid they looked afterwards

kirishima finally managed to pull said angry-boy away from kaminari 

you always said he’s like a little angry pomeranian when angry lol 

back to the plot omg i got carried away

after bakugo was calm enough to take his initial seat beside you, he was already too full and just overall not hungry

so he pushed his plate towards you 

“eat up, fatass.” he grumbled out

you just looked up at him with wide doe-eyes, not expecting an insult to slip off his tongue

it was bakugo, what’d you expect lmao 

you looked down at the plate, suddenly feeling very not hungry anymore, instead pushing the plate away as you grabbed your bag to stand up

“actually, i’ll head up to my room, i feel a bit sick”

you immediately left after that, not seeing the confused glances the table exchanged, mina smacking bakugo’s head

you went to your room and laid down, not knowing why bakugo’s comment had made you feel upset

you never get upset when he makes dumb remarks!!

so why now!!

oh 

you realised it when you were stood in front of the mirror, shirt lifted, staring at your own body

you did gain some weight.

you were upset at yourself because you usually didn’t mind!!

you know weight fluctuates, you know the small amount of chub you have will eventually pack it’s little bags and leave again 

but it hurt because you wanted to be pretty for your boyfriend.

how could you be when he says you’re a fatass?

eventually, you ended up scrolling through your phone, looking at thin girls all day

you also looked up a few diets that worked very fast 

by the time bakugo was aggressively knocking at your door you had closed all of the pages you were previously looking at 

as soon as you swung the door open he strutted in, seating himself on your bed

“what was with you running off at lunch today?” he looked at you 

you were still stood at your door like.... mm ok i guess make yourself at home 

“huh? i told you, i felt a little sick.” you mumbled, closing the door again, it was getting late and you were not looking to be beheaded by aizawa

he scoffed “if you say so.” he laid down, kicking your blanket to the side

“i brought you some snacks - incase you got hungry..” he said, his face looking like >:( 

he didn’t get them because he knew you liked them and wanted to make you happy! not at all!!

he just didn’t want to put up with you being whiny

that’s for sure the reason 

you giggled, throwing yourself ontop of him - sounds of protest coming from him but he did wrap his arms around you 

“since when are you so nice, katsuki?!” you teased

lol wrong move 

in 0.01 seconds you were flipped over and held down as he started tickling you 

“i’m not nice!”

the next morning you left extra early to avoid getting breakfast with bakugo

he didn’t seem to be bothered by it, he also has days where he just doesn’t feel like eating early in the morning so 

it does start to bother him when that one day of skipping breakfast turned into every day

his google search bar is like 

‘why does my gf not eat’

‘do girls not eat breakfast’

but this bitch is also too scared to approach you at first because he doesnt want you to know he truly cares 

his ego is still too high for that 

but you know better

you know he cares but sometimes you don’t feel good enough for him

you can’t help but compare yourself to other girls at your school

you distance yourself unknowingly, lost in the counting calories and exercising every day

everyone but you notices that you’re literally spiraling 

you don’t notice that you look sick, skin paling and cheekbones getting more prominent every passing day 

you don’t notice the growing eyebags under your eyes 

all you notice is other pretty girls and how you want to look like them.

at first, your friends decide to give you some space, thinking that maybe you have to fix this within yourself and need space

and you do, but someone needs to snap you out of your little bubble 

that someone is bakugo 

so it goes like this 

during training, he noticed your legs being a little more wobbly than usual 

and he noticed that you were unfocused, not being able to dodge all of the enemies attacks 

but something inside of him snaps when aizawa has to stop the fight because you were not even fighting back anymore

before aizawa even arrived in front of you, your world went black and you collapsed

bakugo was so angry at your training enemy 

didn’t they fucking see your struggle?? 

did they really have to be stopped by their teacher??

would they even have stopped if it werent for aizawa?? 

probably not

but he didnt have time to go and yell at them because he was running towards you 

aizawa let him pick you up

“bring her to recovery girl.”

of course he did 

everyone watching was so shocked 

because bakugo didn’t let out a sound the entire time 

his face was pulled into a frown, as usual, but he wasn’t speaking- no, yelling

he showed past his classmates, walking towards recovery girl’s office

“ribbit, why was he so quiet?”

recovery girl was like ?!?!?! what the fuck happened when was the last time she ate

she had to give you a total parenteral nutrition

(that means nutrition/fluids are delivered into your body via a catheter placed in a vein of your body, usually lower arm)

when you woke up bakugo was sat next to the bed, reading the back of some medicine bottle he found there

when he noticed you awake he perked up a little, shoulders visibly relaxing

“what happened?” 

he narrowed his eyes, wondering for a second if you were serious 

“you’re starving yourself to near death, that’s what happened.”

you immediately grimaced

“did i pass out in front of everyone?”

“is that seriously what you’re worried about?!”

you remained quiet, looking away

“y/n, look at me.” he gently guided your head to face him

“i don’t know what drove you to do this to yourself, but i need you to stop. you’re going to die if you don’t stop. what idiot made you think you need to do this to yourself?! i’ll kill them!”

..

“you told me i was a fatass”

his jaw dropped

fuck

“you know i don’t mean when i insult you! i hide the fucking fact that i WANT you to eat by using insults! i’m so sorry..”

his voice went soft at the end

he truly felt so bad :(

he was the one that was supposed to protect you from others hurting you yet here he was, being the one that caused you to hink you weren’t worthy enough

“i know, but there’s so many much more prettier girls than me, i was afraid you’d lose feelings if i wasn’t thin enough.”

“are you kidding?! you’re the only one i have eyes for! all those other extra’s can fuck off, i don’t give a single shit about them!”

you were kinda tearing up

“do you promise?”

god, he felt so bad.

he sat on the edge of the bed, reluctantly pulling you in a hug 

“i promise”

from that day on he made sure to remind you to eat meals, even if it was just something small

he ripped everyone’s heads off if they made a comment about your eating habits and/or weight

and he made sure you were the only one he loved

the day he saw you collapse something broke inside of him

it opened his eyes that hiding his emotions from you wouldn’t help you in your relationship

so while he supported you to build your feelings of self-worth and eating habits, you helped him start to open up, teaching him that showing emotions wasn’t embarassing

no one else knew how soft he could get with you and it should stay that way

you had a long way to go but it was all worth it in the end

he was your little angry pomeranian <33

requests: open

read rules before requesting.

[anyoneseenadam]

Hi I was wondering if you could do a Azriel x reader where they are cuddling and talking after a long day of work?

pairing: azriel x reader (acotar)

warnings: mental health/anxiety being mean, insecurity, asides from that it’s pure fluff and nice and lovey dovey

a/n: I love writing fluff omg, I went in a slightly different route that I intended with this one but I hope you like it :))))

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

You pushed the heavy wooden door of your home open, dragging your legs in as you fought to keep your eyes open. You pushed the door closed with your back, leaning your head against it, and closing your eyes for a second, before sliding down, still leaning against the door, and wrestling to remove you shoes with a huff.

You heard a cough ahead of you and looked up to see Azriel fondly watching you, leaning against the wall with his arms crossed over his chest. He was still in his leathers, so you presumed he had just beat you home, his tired eyes sparkling with humour as he watched you struggle with your boots. You didn’t say anything as you stood and padded over to him on heavy feet, wrapping your arms around his middle and squeezing your eyes shut.

You didn’t want to think of the long week you had dealt with, you just wanted to bury yourself under a mountain of pillows and blankets and maybe wrap your limbs around Azriel like a koala bear. He wrapped his arms around you, scarred hands rubbing up and down your back as the two of you stood together in silence, simply breathing in the other and allowing your souls to be reacquainted.

When you first met Azriel he had wandered into your shop on a whim, wanting to get Feyre some flowers to congratulate her on the pregnancy and he remembered Elain had mentioned this shop being one of her favourites. He had expected to be in and out, not in the mood for a long conversation, or any conversation for that matter. But as soon as he saw your pretty face, your flowy, dress that stopped just above your dirt covered knees, all his plans were thrown out the window.

“Can I help you?” you had asked, sweet-lipped, your voice sounding the way cherries tasted, sweet but with a deeper richness. A smooth tone that he could listen to for hours.

He ended up buying as many flowers as he could without seeming insane, not wanting you to ever stop speaking, wanting you to explain the meaning behind every flower in your store if it meant he got to stay with you.

You had noticed him as well of course. Who wouldn’t, he was beautiful and carried himself with so much grace and poise that you were sure he was a fallen angel. You had lengthened your descriptions of the flowers, face heating when you realised you were rambling and fighting a grin when he asked you to continue.

You had invited him to sit with you as you were brewing tea and he had accepted, sipping tentatively at the tea you told him you grew yourself, the greenhouse in your garden perfect for the needed flowers. The two of you had spoken for hours before he left, ignoring the confused looks from his friends when he came home with six separate bouquets of flowers. Instead deciding to picture your pretty face as he lay in bed that night, finally getting rest for the first time in weeks.

Now, you were wrapped up in his arms, still not speaking. He didn’t worry too much, he knew that sometimes you weren’t ready to speak, that some days you just needed some quiet to process your day and come back to yourself. When you had first explained the way you would drift from your own mind, feeling as if you were floating above your own body Azriel had almost cried, the realisation that maybe he wasn’t the only one in the world, that maybe there was someone for him after all.

He lifted you into his arms and carried you to the kitchen, carefully avoiding the plants littered around the house, before shifting you onto one hip like a baby, knowing you wouldn’t be letting go any time soon. He set about brewing your favourite tea, smiling as he picked up the pot that you had shared the fifth time he came to visit you.

The store had been closed but you had invited him, so he pushed in, cringing at himself when he realised how early he was but all his thoughts came to a halt when he heard that sweet voice of yours coming from your apartment above your shop.

“My lovers got humour, she's the giggle at a funeral, knows everybody's disapproval, I should've worshiped her sooner. If the Heavens ever did speak, she's the last true mouthpiece, every Sunday's getting more bleak a fresh poison each week- AH!” you screamed when you saw him standing in the doorway, pressing a hand to your heart as it slowed back to its regular beat. “Fuck you, oh my.”

He genuinely laughed then, not expecting to hear you swear. The girl who had green stained fingers and who fed stray cats, the girl who always decorated for every holiday and who apologised when she bumped into inanimate objects. Your face was hot to the touch and you wouldn’t look him in the eyes, so he had stopped laughing, moving to up your face, forcing you to look in his eyes.

“You have the prettiest voice I’ve ever heard.” He said sincerely but you scoffed,

“No I really don’t,” you laughed but he saw the insecurities then, “I know it’s whiny.” He frowned; your voice having been one of your most attractive traits in his eyes. He had started to see beneath your cracks then, but now with you wrapped around him he remembered how deep they went.

“Do you want to talk about it baby?” he asked carefully, not wanting to startle you, knowing how deep you could get in your head, tiny noises startling you when you were zoned out.

“Bad brain.” Was all you muttered, and he frowned but just kissed your forehead and continued making your tea. When he was done he carried both you and the tea through to your bedroom, setting the tea down before twisting you again and carrying you to the bathroom. He sat you on the side of the bath and wet a cloth, cleaning the makeup from your face, and moisturising your skin before picking you back up and taking you back to your room. You slowly changed into one of his shirts and some loose boxers before crawling under the duvet and reaching your hands out to Azriel who had changed into his pyjama bottoms.

He crawled in next to you, pulling you into his chest, his wings wrapping around the two of you and then his shadows settling over both of you, protecting you from the outside world.

“How was your week?” he asked, one hand coming up to play with your hair knowing how much it relaxed you and feeling his heart warm when he felt you smile against his neck.

“Bit shit,”

“How so?”

“Just rude customers, and this one guy wanted like two dozen flowers which I made up but then he couldn’t pay and trashed the bouquets I had made him. Plus all the noise made my anxiety play up,” you muttered, and he frowned, not liking how put out you sounded.

“Want me to kill him?” he asked, only half-joking.

“I think that’s a bit extreme,” you laughed into his shoulder.

“Lightly maim then?”

“Maybe just a scare, make him think his house is haunted or something,”

“That I can do.” He smiled, kissing you, happy to have you partially back to him.

“What about you, how was your week, I feel like I haven’t seen you at all.”

“I know, sorry. I’ve been doing some stuff for Rhys.”

“I’m presuming I’m not allowed to hear about it,” you said, well aware of how secretive his job was.

“It’s not a mission per say, I’m just babysitting.”

“Is it fun at least?” you asked, grinning at him cheekily and he scrunched up his face, thinking back over his week of baby sitting two horny Fae’s while he dreamt of being in your little apartment.

“Not the word I would use, they’re too horny for their own good.”

“The babies?!”

“No! NO! They’re not actually children!” he backtracked as you collapsed into a fit of giggles, Azriel joining you soon after. “You know I think they suspect something,” he said once you finally calmed down, “I think they’ve worked out I’m sneaking off.”

“Hmm, guess we have to kill them then.” You mused and Azriel grinned,

“Only reasonable course of action.”

“I mean we’d be fools not to,”

“Clearly.” He laughed, before tightening his grip, “seriously though, do you want to meet them?”

“I mean, yeah. I think it’d be nice,” he noticed your mood had shifted again and nudged you, imploring you to continue, “It’s just you’re all so accomplished and amazing, powerful people and I’m just… me.”

He tried to ignore the pain that stabbed into his heart at your self-deprecating words, having thought them about himself enough times to know how they felt. “Don’t say that, you’re an incredible person. And even if you weren’t the kindest, sweetest person I had ever met, you’re still the girl I love and honestly I think Cassian is one ex-girlfriend away from selling me to the highest bidder.”

You laughed and nuzzled in farther, “Kindest person you’ve ever met?”

“Well asides from the occasional death threats,”

“ah yes, ignoring that. Of course.” He laughed and kissed your forehead, eyes closing as he heard your voice get softer and your breath slower.

“I love you.” He whispered into your hair as you felt your eyelids droop, the weight of the week lifted off of your shoulders as you buried yourself in Azriel’s arms, peaceful in his embrace.

“I love you.”

[candychronicles]

carve // k. bakugou

A/N: hello and welcome to my take on the all about bakugou bnharem collab! this is a potential intense read so please heed all warnings! 

this is a continuation of quarantine that i wrote last year for a harem collab. it’s not required to read in order to read this story but feel free to read if you’re interested!

i am so sorry that i solely write for collabs now lol 

CHARACTER PAIRING: bakugou katsuki x f!reader

WORD COUNT: 3,050

WARNINGS: heavy knife play (mentions of blood, wounds, weapons), super intense emotions, oral (f!receiving), good ol fashioned penetration, implications of a lighter skin tone if you squint

SYNOPSIS: your boyfriend suggested to try a new kink over quarantine yet life was beginning to resume some semblance of normalcy with no excitement in sight. what was going on? 

want to enjoy more bakugou? i mean, c’mon, who wouldn’t? 

head on over the the masterlist!

you did not, in fact, try anything risker. bakugou balked at the thought of hurting you once he got over the high he was in, lusting over the fact that you were able to put him in his place so easily, though he would never admit that. he wouldn’t admit a lot of things, in fact, like how he was afraid he was going to slip and cut too deep, how he thought you secretly didn’t trust him, how he wasn’t and never would be good enough. all these thoughts kept running through his head as time went on, as quarantine sunk deeper and deeper into chaos, as he got called back into action much sooner than expected and never really got a chance to spend time with you like he really wanted to.

over a year had passed since the last first and last time he had ever brought the knife up. you had asked him plenty, showing him different blades, trying to get him wound up, but he always pushed the thought away, fucked you into submission, or if you were being particularly relentless, let you fuck him. it kept you at bay for awhile but you both knew that things wouldn’t stay quiet forever.

it was on a normal tuesday evening that you sat him down for a serious chat. he had been gone for awhile, quarantines lifting up left and right, people getting vaccines and life returning to as normal as it could be after what everyone had went through. he was distant, stressed, unsure of life and frustrated with how he was feeling and you could tell. he didn’t, however, know that you were that observant and he was sure that you were going to kick him to the curb. honestly, how could he blame you with the way he was treating you, acting like you were some fragile doll that needed to be kept at arm's length wrapped in bubble wrap your whole life? fearing he would break some sort of trust between you two or worse, snap you in half. it wasn’t until he felt your gentle hand on his own that he realized he’d been consumed in his own thoughts.

“Katsuki, what’s wrong?” you finally asked, not one to beat around the bush.

“nothing’s wrong babe, just tired, you know i’ve been working a lot,” he brushed off, going to stand up.

you didn’t give him the chance though, yanking his hand so that he was pulled forward, slamming into the table.

“don’t. lie. to. me,” you commanded, anger evident on your face, brows furrowed and eyes challenging straight ahead.

he sat down with a sigh, not sure of where to begin or even if he had the strength to say anything to you, but before he could, he heard your voice, unusually meek, ask “was it something i did?”

his hand tightened around your own before he realized he was squeezing harshly, quickly letting go and rubbing his fingers as if he had burned you, which he might as well have with the way you recoiled at his actions.

“Katsuki, please, if there’s something i did, at least tell me. i’m going crazy watching you run away from me without me even knowing what’s going on.”

fists clenching under the table, he huffed, attempting to collect his thoughts once more. he knew now that there was no running from this, no more hiding his feelings or wallowing in his own despair and pity.

“i’m afraid of hurting you. during sex, especially. with the knife kink, ya know?”

you cocked your head at his, eyes squinting as you tried to analyze what he had just said.

“i’m not made of porcelain. i think that, as adults, you and i can have a conversation about boundaries, safety, how to keep in communication and what to properly do during aftercare. it’s really not any different from the conversations we’ve had before in any part of our life, really.”

“but what if i go too far?”

“then i’ll just embarrass you by going to the hospital and telling them that my boyfriend’s monster cock split me in half. m’sure they’ve heard worse,” you teased, reaching out to poke at his forehead that was set in a permanent wrinkle, face scowling at how nonchalantly you were talking about this.

“i’m serious, what if i fuck up and cut too deep or nick an artery or accidentally slip and stab you or you sneeze and stab yourself or-”

“hey, ‘Suki,” relax. it’s why we’ll educate ourselves and take it slow. you’re not putting a knife to my neck after all. we’ll learn and talk together so that we’re both feeling safe and if you still don’t want to do it after then that’s fine! we have a great sex life as is. i don’t need every one of my kinks fulfilled to be happy and satisfied with you.”

despite the insecurities and confusion that settled in his brain like a thick fog, he nodded his head, agreeing to learning and trying this new experience with you. secretly, he was ecstatic, his cock twitching as he thought about carving his name into your body, but the logical part of his brain still wasn’t convinced. 

you two spent the night educating yourself, figuring out what blade you wanted to purchase, how to keep it clean, how to safely take care of wounds, both minor and major, safety do’s and dont’s and going over boundaries and safe words. it was hours later that you both collapsed into bed, thoroughly tired yet satisfied after the conversation and education that had just taken place.

three days later, a nondescript package arrived at your door, simply labeled with the postage and address. you quickly grabbed it and rushed inside, careful to close the door quietly. Bakugou had the day off and spent most of the morning doing paperwork, only now choosing to workout in order to get rid of the boredom that was already seeping into his brain. 

you tore the package open as quietly as possible and shimmied the box tucked inside the package out, careful not to damage anything, popping it open and smiling at the sight inside. a shiny blade stared back at you, hilt a forest green, deep and inviting. you pulled the object out, running your finger along the cool metal, admiring the way it glinted in the harsh kitchen light. 

quickly, you scrambled into the bedroom, eager to see what Bakugou would think but when you peeked your head inside the room, it was dark. you frowned before realizing he had already sat down at his desk, tolling away at the mounds of papers he had to go through. sighing, you gently placed the blade down on the dresser, forgetting about it as the day went on.

it was only when you were in the shower later that evening, ready for bed, that you remembered you didn’t put it away. you hurried to finish, barely throwing a towel on yourself before whipping the door open only to see he had already spotted the object. 

Bakugou was twirling it in his hands, testing the weight, prodding at the tip with his fingers, letting out a sharp hiss when the blade nicked his finger.

without thinking, you stepped forward, taking his hand into your own before slowly lifting it up to your lips, sucking on the wound, the taste of iron and his own sweet flavor hitting the roof of your mouth. you watched him with hooded lids as your towel dropped haphazardly to the floor, body still dripping from the shower.

“princess, you’re playing a dangerous game tonight.”

you only hummed around his finger, stepping closer to him, pressing your wet body to his, shivering at the warmth he radiated. he pulled his hand away from your mouth, choosing instead to cup your chin and bring it closer to him.

“are you sure you want to do this? do you remember everything we learned?”

“i’m sure, Katsuki, i promise. we have our safety words if things get out of hand, yeah? but i’m sure it won’t,” you reassured, blinking up at him with such sincerity it nearly took his breath away.

with the knife tucked firmly in one hand, Bakugou led you to the bed, laying you down gently, propping your head up and settling into your thighs, kissing, biting, sucking.

he took one deep breath, hands trembling, before the coolness of the blade just barely grazed your skin. you took a sharp inhale of breath but before he could ask what was wrong, he heard you beg for him to do it again.

his tongue came out to press flat against your clit and you jolted, his one hand coming down to hold you still and the other using the knife to trace lazy shapes along your thighs, up your pelvis and around your stomach. 

you struggled to maintain your breath, the sharp scratch of the knife as it tickled your skin contrasted with the soft and soothing tongue of Bakugou as he leisurely lapped at your sensitive nub. you begged and pleaded for more friction, white knuckling the sheets as you tried to keep your composure but all he did was sadistically smile and hum, the vibrations driving you crazy. 

he kept up that pace for a while, the blade leaving behind bright pink swirls on your skin, tickling and pinching you at the same time. it was all so exhilarating, knowing that something bad could happen and yet being at the complete mercy of your boyfriend. 

Bakugou, on the other hand, was stalling for time. he wanted so badly to claim you as his own and yet he was still convinced this wasn’t what you wanted. he thought you were faking it or doing it for his own pleasure and yet in this moment, all he wanted to do was please you, make you feel good, make you know that nobody would ever lay a hand on you besides him, that you were and would be his forever. he felt so strongly about you and about you being his that he didn’t even notice he was applying more pressure to the blade until you let out a gasp.

immediately he sat up, blade dropping clumsily to the bed as he examined your hips, realizing he had nicked the thin skin on your pelvic bone. he stared blankly at the red welt, a pinprick of blood seeping out of the cut. numbly, he looked up at you, ashamed he had hurt you. before he had a chance to open his mouth and apologize, however, you surged forward, crashing your lips against his own, teeth gnashing. he was sure he tasted blood but the way you were kissing him, he didn’t think he could stop even if he wanted to.

“Katsuki, i need more, please. i need you, all of you, need your name carved into my body, need to know that i’m the only one for you.”

he paused, hands coming to gently push you away, looking into your eyes to see what kind of game you were playing but all he saw was that same sincerity and desire as always.

“i just hurt you know. what if i go too far?”

you grabbed his face fervently, squishing his cheeks with your hands. 

“I trust you with my life. I always have and I always will. I am yours as you are mine. I want, no I need, this from you. Please.”

his heart practically squeezed in his chest, an unusual lump forming in his throat as he stared at you, at the way the tears pooled at your lashes, how you looked at him like he was the sun, how your warm breath caressed his face and your soft hands held him so tenderly. it was in that moment that he finally realized how much you loved him, trusted him, needed him as much as he needed you.

no words were spoken as he wiped away the tears from your cheeks, laying you back down gently on the mattress, knife picked up firmly in his hand as he splayed his other across your stomach, stretching and pulling at the skin to make it taut. he didn’t even think before he put the blade to your skin and began carving the first line in the K.

the first cut stung, a slow, agonizing pain as he sliced straight up and down, pinpricks of blood following in the wake of his actions. he looked up at you, making sure you were okay, but you were already placing your hand on the blade, urging him to continue.

the next few lines continued to sting but with it came an utmost sense of security and pride. he was carving you, embellishing his name into your body, carving you, marking you, molding you to become a piece of his own flesh. you were his canvas, his artwork, the beauty that was brighter than the stars. he was the sun, hot, fiery, full of temper and you were his moon, patient, calm, full of emotion. together, you two worked in tandem, balancing each other out, keeping each other in line, never able to fully connect but never being able to stay away from one another. but today, on this glorious evening, the sun and the moon meet, an eclipse in the night, destined to become one, and as the blade finished slicing you, the final stroke, the “I” to end it all, your souls merged.

Bakugou stared back at his own name, his first name, carved along your skin, rivulets of red pooling along your skin, eager to be released from their confines. his hand came to gently wipe away your skin, wincing as you hissed.

“let me get you cleaned up.”

he tried to get up, he really did, but when you reached for him, your voice wanton, begging him to fuck you, pleading, saying that you needed him now more than ever, he sunk back down onto the bed, his shirt flinging over his head, clothes kicked off to the side. gingerly, he climbed on top of you, not even getting a chance to adjust or make sure you were okay before you were trapping him in your legs, pulling your bodies practically flush, his cock sitting heavily against your aching cunt.

“baby, please, i want you too, so fucking bad, but i need you to tell me you’re okay first, need you to talk to me before we go any further,” he begged, eyes searching your own frantically to make sure you didn’t get lost in the emotions.

“m’okay ‘Suki, promise. just need y’so bad, please.” 

he breathed deeply through his nose, cock twitching painfully, before he situated himself properly between your legs, gently thrusting into you, nearly gasping out as you sucked him in, soaking wet and eager for his touch.

“fuck baby, you’re so wet. been waiting for me to fuck you senseless, hm?”

you only whined out in response, hands curling around his neck to pull him closer to you, sealing him in a kiss and wriggling your hips.

he obliged without question, too consumed in the feeling of you, your scent, the stickiness of the blood, your hands in his hair, everything about you was driving him crazy. you were everything to him and he could feel in the way your body reacted to his touch, the way you cried as he kissed you, how you whispered over and over again how much you loved him, how you wanted to spend the rest of your life with him, how you needed him at your happiest and darkest moments in life, how you two would meet in every life and love each other no matter what, he felt it all. so much so that his own tears began falling, soaked in your soft skin, slipping between each kiss, sealing your fate with one another.

his thrust were slow and deliberate, taking his time, savoring every breath that he stole from you, every gasp and moan and cry and prayer as you worshipped him over and over again. your body was on fire, adrenaline making your toes curl and fingers tingle, head dizzy from lack of air but you couldn’t stop, meeting his thrust with your own, legs locked tightly around his torso, hands pulling him impossibly closer, loving the way his body set you on fire. you were drowning in the flames and yet only wanted to sink deeper into heat, consumed by the tranquility it gave you. you were at peace, body alight with pleasure as your chest met his, back curling off the bed as he rocked you through the most intense orgasm you had ever had.

it only took a few moments of your cunt clenching around his cock before he came, thrusts becoming sloppy as he rode you both through your high. breaths were caught, bodies untangling from one another as you came to your senses. after a few minutes, Bakugou gently began stroking your cheek, bringing you back to reality, going through his checklist as he made sure you were okay after what had happened.

after he had gotten you some water and began tending to your wounds, you looked at him, hand coming to gently grip his, stroking the calloused palms of your lover. 

“thank you, Katsuki.”

he looked at you like you had two heads before scoffing, claiming that he only did what you two wanted to do before finishing cleaning you up, going to the bathroom to take his own shower and wash the blood off of himself. you laid there, donned in one of his shirts, taking in your emotions, when the door opened up, Bakugou stepping out dressed in sweatpants, flashing you a rare soft smile as he took in the name carved on your stomach.

“y’know, that’s just the beginning,” he started, coming over to lay down next to you, gently pulling you into his side, kissing the top of your head and watching the way you looked at him, expectant and full of love.

“you’re not going to just have my name carved on you, princess. soon, i’ll give you my last name too.” 

[tteokdoroki]

hi!! saw your requests were open, can i ask hcs for todoroki, hawks, bakugou and tamaki with a touchy drama queen fem!reader who they have a crush on? (separate)

— touchy-feely | bnha crush headcanons.

⇝ pairing(s): katsuki bakugou, shoto todorki, tamaki amajiki, keigo takami x fem!reader

⇝ rating: suitable for all.

⇝ genre: fluff.

⇝ warning(s): please read ! loads of fluff ?? and some cursing.

⇝ author’s note(s): thank you so much for this request lovely!  it was actually my first so i hope i was able to do it justice for you ( sorry they’re kinda long)  !! also thank you for 300+ followers :( i adore you so much  <3

⇝ masterlist | requests

ok so, we all know that baku despite his bark bark grrrr aggressive nature is really just a sucker for cuddles and shit.

he loves that he lives for it!!

probably cos he never really got many hugs in his childhood ?? idk

so naturally with him having a crush on you all he really wants is for your attention to be on him

All The Time.

again going back to baby bakugou he probably has some kinda thing for praise an attention because everyone praised his quirk when he was younger.

but since he’s stubborn he’ll try to reject your touch most of the time and act like he doesn’t enjoy it when in reality he does.

he tries to hide the angry pink on his cheeks when you ruffle his hair in front of class or when you squeeze his booty on the walk back to dorms.

it’s your daily routine to wake him up with a pick up line during breakfast, some of your classmates think it’s over the top but you like how boom boom boy blushes.

katsuki’s favourite is when you lean your head on his shoulder during class movie night 🥺

he pretends that your hands aren’t intertwined under the blankets too

bakugou enjoys these moments the most it’s like you’re both calm around one another ??

kirishima and kaminari always tease him about it which makes bakugou wanna push you away.

A MISTAKE !!!

being the drama queen that you are you’d probably turn on the fake tears, get those water works RUNNING to the point where poor katsuki is all flustered and doesn’t know what to do.

“QUIT YOUR CRYING YOU FUCKIN DUMBASS”

“DO YOU NOT LIKE CUDDLING WITH ME KATSUKI?? IS THAT IT??”

poor bby just wants reach out and Hold you.

also wants you to shut the fuck up.

will probably grab your hand and yank you into his room for a cuddle session. “stop your crying, shitty girl. it’s giving me a damn headache.”

overall bakugou would probably be very flustered by your random dramatic personality but would get used to your displays of affection over time.

he doesn’t really think much of how dramatic you are.

at least you don’t yell at him like bakugou does.

todo is probably more worried about you than anything ?? because you go from 0-100 in a matter of minutes and that confuses him.

he’s also confused by the butterflies in his liddol tummy when you squish his cheeks and call him a pretty boy before anyone’s settled in for class.

like ??? why do you insist on pointing that out EVERY DAY

:( please tell him he’s pretty bc he doesn’t think it’s true

it doesn’t show but every time you wrap your arms around him to give an overly dramatic detailed account of how beautiful and talented shoto todoroki is he literally short circuits inside his brain

WHY DO YOU KEEP PRAISING HIM!!!

pls don’t stop bc poor baby missed out on all these good feelings.

maybe one of the main reasons you do it :(

todoroki starts attempting to ?? get touchy with you back ??

he knows that he’s fond of you but probably has never experienced a crush before so he doesn’t know if he should return these gestures.

you make it a daily habit to kiss shoto on the cheek and tell him how dashingly handsome he looks while reciting some kinda shakespeare poetry

he decides to ask natsuou what’s going on

Bad Bad Idea

big bro todoroki is like “this girl?? she’s in love With You?? you gotta confess to her right back!!!”

shoto: what is love?

so the next day in class you’re heading straight for the dual haired boy and he is Ready He Has a Plan

before you even reach him he’s grabbing your cheeks and pressing a KISS right on your lips.

“i think you’re very pretty too, miss ln.”

?:&/@-@/9&:

the whole class Freezes ??

and you being the drama queen that you are COLLAPSE in front of everyone because THE shoto todoroki just kissed you.

bby doesn’t even know what he did 🥺

probably ends with you two confessing to one another in recovery girls office.

you make a mental note to thank natsu later.

FJDJDJD here comes the big DUMB bird brain.

we all know that keigo is literally the biggest drama queen out there. he’s a pretty bird and he basks in attention no matter who it’s coming from.

you’d be similarly matched in personality so maybe that’s why he started to fall for you so hard and so fast.

i think you’d both be very touchy with one another, as part of your friendship.

whether that helping the bird with his eyeliner, touching at his stubbled chin to keep his face still or him pretending to peck at you by nibbling on your cheeks and shoulders.

you even squawk back at him!!!

keigo is very touch starved so i think he’d just like always having your hands on him and vice versa

sometimes he’ll do stuff to make you overreact like steal food from your plate when you guys have take out together

or bump into you on patrol

you’ll do either one of two things;

A) scream at him through laughter obnoxiously loud

B) ruffle his feathers a bit and play with his big boy wings.

usually it’s both

“stop laughing at me >:(“

you literally burst into fits of giggles when keigos wings puff up because of how flustered he IS

and of course for that dramatic flare you add some tears of joy.

kei loves how tight you hold him when he takes you for a fly even if you’re spouting a bunch of nonsense about how he’s gonna drop you and how you’re going to die.

probably drops you on purpose to see how you’d react.

when you land he laughs at how you kiss the ground and hug it mumbling something about how “i thought i’d never see you again,”

kei has to hold your hand while you get used to being on solid ground again.

adores the weight of your palm in his.

out of all the boys i think keigo would be the least shocked by your personality and your affections

it all kinda feels normal to him and that’s why he has a major crush on you.

BOY!!!

okay so this little bean has probably had a crush on you for like his whole life idk maybe you were childhood friends.

but then y’all met mirio and he thought that he’d never stand a chance.

pls your hints would go SO SO over his head.

you are Loud so very loud which contrasts with tama’s quiet and shy personality. so in his mind itd make sense for you to fall for mirio instead of him.

so he pushes his feelings for you deeep deep down.

you’re a naturally affectionate person, maybe a little overly affectionate but that just comes with your extremely over the top personality.

but around tamaki, it’s like your affinity for touching people increases by a tenfold.

you’re always clinging into him :(( despite the red tips to his elvin ears and you always smother his face with little kisses whenever you greet him.

of course tamaki loves your attention, no matter how shy it makes him— you’ve always got your hands on him and that makes him feel better.

it makes him feel like he has a chance with you.

the way you bounce up to him every day with a huge smile on your face just makes him Fall For You.

but tama struggles to see the good in himself and always compares the way you act around him to mirio.

baby over thinks :(

one day he’s hanging out with mirio and the blonde kinda goes “when are you gonna ask out yn?”

???? CONFUSED LITTLE ELF BOY

“she likes you, didn’t you know that?”

starts to return your affections a bit more n loves how excited you are when he holds your hand back !!

“EVERYONE TAMAKI AMAJIKI IS HOLDING MY HAND I REPEAT HES HOLDING MY HAND!!”

your feelings for one another go unspoken but he feels better now that he knows you like him and him only.

[thatrandomwriter]

Returning the favor

Merle x female reader, reader saves Merle’s life after he cuts off his hand

Warnings: sexual language, slight gore, cursing

A banging at the door made me jump awake - I never slept deeply anymore, and I spent most of my nights in and out of what could barely be described as sleep, easily woken and constantly exhausted.

My first thought was a particularly persistent walker. But then I heard a voice, raspy and southern “I saw you through the window. Open up. Or I swear, I’ll kick this damn door down.” It was most likely a looter. Opening the door to him seemed immediately like the stupid option, but if he was serious about knocking my door down then I would have to find a new place to hide out, an extra risk I could not afford to take. My best bet was to overpower him at the door. He’d seen me through the window and probably assumed that I’d be easily threatened, but what he hadn’t seen was the pistol I kept hidden by the door, or the knives I had stashed under my mattress and around the small room.

The banging on the door got more persistent. I grabbed a knife, and ensured my gun was easily in reach. It wouldn’t hurt to have extra weapons he didn’t know about.

I swung open the door. A tall, broad man stood in my doorway. One arm was pointing a gun vaguely in my direction, the other dripping so much blood it almost looked black. His hand had been cut off.

“Get out. All your shit is mine now, don’t think I won’t shoot you just cuz yer a girl,” He sneered at me, feigning confidence, but his skin was tinged grey and sweat was beading on his brow. He was weak and there was no way he could physically overpower me in this state, despite his muscular frame.

I raised a sceptical eyebrow at his threat. Then, in one swift motion, I knocked the gun from his hand and pushed my knife to his throat, firmly enough for a small bead of blood to gather on the edge of the blade. He opened his mouth, probably about to say something stupid, before the full weight of his body collapsed into me and he lost consciousness.

*

Somehow, with strength I hadn’t even known I had, I half lifted, half dragged the man’s body over to my mattress on the floor. It was clear he had lost far too much blood. I knew it was stupid, but some part of me wanted to help him, even though I knew he had come here to rob me blind, and possibly to kill me after he had taken all of my possessions. I told myself it was because leaving him outside would attract walkers. But really some part of me was still weak and soft, and somehow I had sympathy for a man who could not give less of a shit about me.

Minor medical training from books I had scavenged and stolen told me that he was in desperate need of stitches, and likely had a severe infection from his wound, and that it needed to be treated fast or there was no way he could survive without a hospital, which, for obvious reasons, was not an option. The building I had set up camp in was a small convenience store in the city which I used to run, and decided to stay in when the dead started walking. Unfortunately, the store had tempted many thieves in the early days, but as time went on, less and less people braved the city. The man must have seen that my store was the least damaged for several blocks, and identified it as his best bet at survival. He was right - behind the counter were antibiotics and just enough first aid equipment for me to have a chance at saving him. Even if he had stolen my supplies, it was unlikely that he would have managed treating his own wound.

The stitches were the worst part. I had never liked needles, and as far as facing my fears went, this was seriously hands on. It was messily done, probably a laughable job compared to professional standards. And I was sure that the amount of blood on the floor, my hands and staining my clothes was biologically impossible. But somehow he was still alive, something I still hadn’t decided was a good or bad thing. At least he was unconscious for now.

*

Two days passed. I was getting used to sleeping with him around, trying not to think about what he might do if he awoke while I was asleep- waking up to a gun in my face was a real possibility, but one that I had to risk. I slept on the floor next to the mattress he was occupying, uncomfortable enough to be exhausted but easily woken if he or the walkers became an immediate threat.

I sat next to him on the mattress, cleaning his arm, checking that the infection was fading and that the stitches were holding like they should be. It was strange looking after someone who had barely spoken two sentences to me, those sentences being delirious threats after severe blood loss. I often found myself wondering what he would have been like if we had met before the world had ended, at a bar maybe, where he could have bought me a drink or two. I like to think that he would have been the type to hit on me shamelessly and I would have been cynical but secretly loved his advances. I cut myself off in my head. It was ridiculous to think like this. With some effort, I focused back on his arm and began to change his bandage, but my eyelids were growing heavy and I had forgotten how comfortable the mattress was. Every time I closed my eyes, sleep tried to pull me down. I just had to keep them open, just had to focus-

I jolted awake. It almost pitch dark, if I had to guess a time I would have said an hour or two before dawn. There was a hand around my mouth and an arm was around my waist, holding me still against the warm, hard body behind me. He had woken up. Immediately I struggled against him, biting his hand and elbowing him in the stomach. He swore under his breath, but his grip only tightened around me.

“Stop wrigglin’. There’s walkers in here, I’m tryna figure out how many, so for fuck’s sake stay still.”

I nodded. He removed the hand from my mouth, but the arm around my waist stayed. Probably a precaution in case I tried anything again.

“Sorry,” I whispered back. “How did they get in - and when did you wake up? What’s your name? Why haven’t you killed me yet?” Now wasn’t the time for questions, but I was desperate for answers. For all I knew, the only reason he hadn’t killed me yet was to keep me as bait for the walkers.

He shushed me. Then, he finally let go of me and stood up. “Wait here.”

He walked off in the direction of a shuffling noise, and seconds later I heard the thunk of a knife through a skull, and the sound of a body hitting the floor. The sound, quiet as it was, caused another walker’s movements to become frenzied. I heard snarling and then the sound of a second body hitting the floor. There were no more walker sounds, just the sound of the man walking back towards me.

I jumped to my feet and reached for the knife normally hooked through my belt. It was gone, as was the knife under my mattress. I had no defence against the stranger that I had so stupidly taken care of.

“Window’s broken, s’what woke me up. You were out cold. Hope ya had a nice nap.”

I stood up, trying to read his face in the growing bit still dim light.

“Name’s Merle. And you, sugar tits, are exceptionally lucky that I believe in returning favours.”

So he didn’t plan on killing me after all. I shook off the lingering fear caused by both him and the walkers getting so close.

“Thanks. And you’re welcome, I stitched you up good. And don’t call me that, or I’ll chop of your other hand,” He smirked at me, knowing my threat was entirely empty.

“Oh yeah? I’m not so sure you wanna do that, sweetheart, you haven’t seen the half of what I can do with this hand,” His smile was suggestive and I could feel my face getting hot.

“I’m gonna board up the broken window,” I attempted to ignore his last sentence, but it was clear he could tell I was flustered as he stepped forward, closing in on me.

“Don’t ya think we should get to know each other a little first?”

[kermittedfelony]

Safe and Sound

Hi guys! This idea has been on my mind coz I’ve been struggling a bunch w panic attacks recently AND I’m currently in a hard lockdown so none of my friends can help me sooooo I’ve been imagining Nat helping and decided to share it with yall. I know a billion writers have done this idea but yeah this Is my take on it! Enjoy!

TW: panic attack, coarse language

Natasha Romanoff x gn!reader

Word count: 1675

The last week had been pretty fucking hard. You had gone on a simple recon mission on Monday by yourself, but it was a three-hour ride on the quinjet, where the heater was broken. It also rained the whole day, and someone(Steve and Bucky) had taken the tarp out of the jet to go on a goddamn camping trip, so you were left shivering on the cold wet ground in only a light parka that was most definitely not enough to keep you warm and dry. As such, you were buttfuck freezing down to your core. The whole. Fucking. Day. Did you mention it rained? Yeah, it fucking rained.

So that was Monday. Tuesday was spent attempting to finish the mission report for Steve, but you just couldn’t get your damned mind to focus. It wasn’t even a difficult report; the data you gathered was very minimal and easy to dissect, but you just could not do it. So naturally, it took you all fucking day and to top it all off, exhausted you cognitively.

Wednesday wasn’t much better, you had the day off and originally planned to go for a run in the morning and then just relax the rest of the day, but it rained (again), and as much as you love rain, it’s annoying when it fucks up your plans.

So, in short, Monday fucked you up physically, Tuesday fucked you up cognitively, and Wednesday fucked you up mentally. You had the whole shebang dragging you down.

Due to you being drained in every which way, you were looking forward to enjoying Thursday night movie night with the rest of the team. It was Wanda’s turn to pick, so you knew it would be some nice romcom that you could sit back and relax to. You could just, be.

You exited the elevator in your comfiest trackies and hoodie with fluffy socks that had the little bit of grip on the bottom. If you were going to enjoy this movie night, you were going hard. Comfort to the max.

“You look like a giant fluff ball y/n!”

“I will be taking that as a compliment Nat,” you responded with a wink. You walked towards her and gave her a big hug.

“Tough week, huh?”

“You have no fuckin idea.” You sagged in her arms, making her laugh at having to hold all your weight.

“Alright, come on then, you big sack of potatoes. Let’s get you to the couch. Let me handle the snacks and drinks for us, yeah?”

You smiled gratefully at her, “thanks Nat, love you!”

The movie was really good!

It was good.

Better than good actually.

It was great. It was.

So why did you need to leave so bad? Why was everything closing in on you?

The movie was still running, you were in the last 15 minutes. You could wait it out right? If you left now, everyone was sure to notice, and you did not need that kind of attention on you.

Your eyes flicked to Natasha to the right of you, who was leaning on you with your arm over her shoulders. You couldn’t leave yet, so your anxious energy had to go somewhere. Your index finger on your left hand started to tap on your thigh, slowly and irregularly at first, before picking up speed and rhythm. Next to go was your left knee. Your right leg was crossed over the left one, so when your left knee bounced, both your legs felt the movement.

Nat repositioned one of her hands to rest on your knee, giving you something to focus on. She knew sometimes the anxiety just got to you hard and fast, no clear trigger. She started tracing circles on your knee, allowing you to take a deep breath to calm your nerves.

You quietly whispered, “thanks.”

Nat gave your knee a squeeze in acknowledgement. She knew you hated asking for help and preferred to try and stick it out in situations when you got a wave of anxiety, rather than leaving and “giving up”, as you liked to call it.

Your knee stopped bouncing and so did you finger. For a time.

Not five minutes later, your index and middle finger were both tapping in tandem with your foot. Additionally, your right hand, the one that was wrapped around Nat’s shoulders started tapping.

Nat noticed immediately and whispered to you, “you alright?”

When she didn’t get a response, she tilted her head up to look at you in your eyes.

“Hey. y/n. Can you hear me?”

You were so lost in your own world that you didn’t acknowledge Nat’s words, even though she was right next to you.

She removed your arm from around her and tapped you on the cheek to get your attention.

You jumped subtly and looked at her with wild, flicking eyes.

“Hey, hey, deep breaths, how about we go for a walk?”

You stared into her eyes for a bit longer before quickly getting up and walking out of the room. Your stride was fast but shaky and you had one hand gliding along the wall next to you to keep you upright. You kept going until you didn’t know exactly where you were anymore and slid down against the wall, your butt hitting the floor harshly. All you currently knew was that you were in a dark, quiet corner, and you had gotten as far away as you possibly could. You just had to hope nothing else was coming.

It was at this moment that Nat finally caught up with you. She sank down in front of you and put two hands on your knees, which were up against your chest. You violently jumped at the contact, and attempted to shuffle away from her, further into the corner until your back hit the apex of both walls. All you knew was fear, you had to get out, you had to escape. You tried to stand up but the dizziness from hyperventilating hit you full throttle and you collapsed back onto the ground. You looked up and through eyes blurred by unshed tears, you saw a figure a metre or two away from you with hands up in a placating position.

Nat pleaded with you, “y/n, y/n, it’s just me, it’s just Nat. I’m not going to hurt you. I’m going to stay right here, okay? But I really, really, need you to slow down your breathing. I need you to do that one thing for me, okay?”

Your darting eyes finally focused on her steady ones, and you let out one big breath, disrupting the rhythm of your hyperventilation.

“Yeah, there we go! See you can do it, you got this. Keep slowing down for me.”

Nat slowly inched toward you on her knees until she was close enough to reach out and touch you. She could see you were tensed up as tightly as possible.

“Just slow, deep breaths for me y/n. I’m going to touch you now, is that okay?”

You slowly nodded your head. You felt her warm hand rest lightly on your right knee, before her other hand landed on your left one. You brought your hands up and covered her hands with yours. You closed your eyes before re-opening them at the sound of footsteps. Your breathing began to quicken once again.

Nat reached out and tilted your head back towards her.

“Just focus on me y/n, keep looking at me.”

Nat turned her head and saw Wanda peak around the corner, a worried look in her eyes.

Nat looked back at you, “It’s just Wanda y/n. Would you like her to come?”

Nat knew you trusted Wanda a lot, just as much as you trusted her. You nodded your head again, and Nat waved Wanda into the corner. Wanda came over slowly and sank to her knees to the right of you, so that she could put her arm around your frame. She could feel you shaking under her.

“Hey you’re okay, you’re safe. We’ve got you, don’t we Nat?”

“Yeah, we do. We’ve got your back here y/n.”

You dropped your head at the words spoken to you and took three deep breaths, fully getting your breathing back to normal. Wanda and Nat were both each holding one of your hands, so you gave each woman a squeeze, to let them know your gratitude. The three of you sat like that for another five minutes.

You were so appreciative of how they knew to let you settle properly before moving you back to your room. They just knew you so well and were so patient and calm. They didn’t judge you or urge you to hurry up or get over it or anything. They just let you exist, let you be.

Once she felt you had stopped shaking, Wanda asked, “How about we get you up to bed yeah?”

Nat agreed, “I think that’s a good idea. I’ll quickly make you a cup of peppermint tea. One sugar, right?”

“Ah, you know me so well,” you responded, a slight smile on your face. “Thank you, guys. For helping me just now.”

“You know we’re always here for you,” Wanda smiled back at you.

“Exactly. Do you know what caused the attack?” Nat questioned.

“Just had a very draining couple of days. It all just hit me at once.”

“I understand. I had that happen to me a couple weeks ago, remember?”

You looked at Wanda, “Yeah actually, I do. Consider the favour returned.”

“Always, y/n.”

You grabbed onto her offering hand, and she hauled you to your feet and pulled you into a big hug.

“Thank you, Wands.”

She only squeezed you tightly in response, before slinging her arm around your shoulder and leading you towards the elevator up to your room.

You knew sometimes panic attacks just happen. You used to often feel so much shame about them, but now, with such strong friends around you, you knew you were going to be just fine.

[hangovercurse]

Stay With You ii

You get the call after Rook’s accident and go to the hospital to take care of him.

Requests: “ Could you maybe write another Rook story about where you get the call after his accident that he’s in the hospital and just always staying there with him and when his dad shows up he sees you leaning on the bed sleeping holding Rooks hand or something and he knows you’ll take care of him? I just really love Rook “ “ I was wondering if you know what happened to rook and if you could write something cute like taking care of him after being worried at first about him. I had a mental breakdown when we got the news I'm hoping he gets well soon “

JP “Rook” Cappelletty X Reader

Warnings: Cursing, mentions of the accident (violence, broken bones, etc.), angst

A/N: I needed something happy to come out of this situation so... I wrote it.

Word Count: 2372

part i

You woke up a few hours later to Rook moving under you, your eyes finding his instantly. “Hey baby, how are you feeling?” You asked as you sat up, a smile on your face as you saw that the bruising on his face was fading. He had clearly just woken up as well, sleep still in his eyes.

“Better, I think. Awake.” You nodded, moving the pillow from his lap.

“Your dad’s here.” You said softly, nodding your head towards the man who was sleeping in the chair against the wall. You giggled at the sight and Rook let out a chuckle.

“I’m hungry” He whined and you frowned, remembering what the anesthesiologist told you about no food 8 hours before surgery. He was scheduled to go in at 10 am, and it was currently 5 am.

“I’m sorry, babe. The doctor said no food until after the surgery. I can see if they’ll let you eat jello if you want.” He frowned and you reached up to rub his face. You could tell this was going to be a long 8 weeks.

Truth be told, Rook was a baby when he got sick. He would lay in bed and whine until you agreed to cuddle with him. And if he wanted something, he would pout until he got it. But you kind of loved it. “I’ll be right back.” You whispered, standing up to go find a nurse.

He smiled at you, “can you hand me my phone?” He asked. You moved to the other side of his bed where his phone lay on a table and handed it to him. “I’m gonna see if Colson’s still up.”

You nodded, happy that the two boys were so close. You put your mask on and left the room, flagging down one of the nurses working the night shift.

When you got back into the room with 2 cups of lemon-flavored jello, Johnny was up and the father and son were having a light conversation. You set the cups on the tray and moved it so it was in front of Rook. He tried to raise his hands but you could tell he was struggling. He let out a sigh and looked at you, embarrassment in his eyes.

You smiled lightly, trying not to giggle at his helplessness. “Do you want me to help you?” You asked and he gave a nod, pouting. You adjusted his bed so he was sitting up fully.

“Can you sit next to me?” Johnny let out a laugh as you rolled your eyes a little bit.

Rook tried to shift over in the bed, but you could tell it was hurting him. “Baby stop, you’re gonna hurt yourself.” You sighed.

“I want you to sit on the bed with me.”

You looked at his dad, an exasperated look in your eyes. He just chuckled and turned back to his phone. “I don’t want to hurt you.” You frowned, taking notice of the fact that there was very little room on the bed to begin with.

He squinted his eyes at you, still pouting. “You won’t hurt me.” You raised your eyebrow and moved to sit halfway on the bed, your right thigh resting on the mattress but the majority of your weight still on your left foot on the ground. “Not good enough.”

You rolled your eyes, scooting closer so that your back was against the back of the bed, turned on your side. He smiled, reaching his arm up slowly to try and wrap it around your shoulders. You glared at him, but he shot you a “My hand is broken, not my arm.”

You sighed, sitting up and leaning onto his chest, where you knew he wanted you. You pulled your other leg onto the bed, careful not to put any pressure against his. You leaned up slightly, putting weight on your right hand as your left grabbed the jello cup beside the bed. He opened his mouth and you rolled your eyes. “I don’t like how much you’re enjoying this.”

You placed a small spoonful of the yellow food into his mouth, making him smile. “In a few years, its gonna be you in this bed and I’ll be feeding you jello.” You tilted your head at his words, furrowing your eyebrows. “Y’know, when you’re giving birth to our kid.”

You blushed, a smile making its way to your face. You knew JP wanted kids at some point, and you did too. But you guys had never really talked about it. And now he was bringing it up so casually. Before you could respond, the door opened, and in walked Colson with a backpack full of what he called “everything Rook will ever need,” which you assumed to mean weed and tequila.

Rook smiled, “Yo, dude, what’s up?” Colson threw the bag onto the floor on the opposite side of the bed from you.

“How are you, man?” Colson asked, throwing himself onto the chair next to it.

Rook shrugged, “I’ve been better.” He chuckled and you rolled your eyes, a small giggle coming from you. “Y/N’s feeding me, so it’s not too bad.”

His dad spoke up, “You’re forcing Y/N to feed you jello, you mean?” You laughed at that as Rook’s shoulders fell. “Nice to see you, Kelly.”

“You too, Johnny. I like the new hair.” Colson smiled at the older man, who thanked him. “So, what did the doctors say?”

Rook gave him the rundown, one surgery today, Wednesday, and another on Friday. Casts on his hands for 6 weeks and on his legs for longer. The four of you spoke for a while afterwards and then Colson pulled out a game of connect four (which you raised your eyebrows at but Rook seemed excited about it).

Eventually the Anesthesiologist, Dr. Stenson, came in with a few nurses to take Rook to surgery. You had to climb off the bed, much to Rook’s dismay. “I can’t go into surgery with you, dummy.” But part of you wished you could stay with him because you did not like the way those nurses were looking at him. Colson noticed your distaste and chuckled, causing you to send him a glare.

“He’s going to be very drowsy when he comes back once the anesthesia wears off.” Dr. Stenson said, and you smiled at the thought of Rook on anesthesia, which he claimed would be “just like being high.” Dr. Stenson shook his head at that.

Before he was wheeled out of the room on his bed, he made grabby hands at you as best as he could. You leaned closer to him, pressing your lips against his quickly. “I love you, Y/N” He said, quietly. He didn’t mind anyone else hearing, but he wanted these words to be only for you.

“I love you too.” You said, just as quietly. He leaned back up to kiss you again, making you smile. You were starting to love helpless Rook; it was just endless attention and neediness.

The nurses took him off to surgery, leaving you, Johnny, and Colson alone in the room together. You collapsed onto the chair you had slept in, letting out a sigh as Colson chuckled at you. “Shut up.” You scrunched your nose at him, curling into the chair and bringing the pillow under your head.

“You guys are cute, what?” He asked, defensively, but the smile on his face was anything but.

You pouted, trying to push yourself further into the chair to find some comfort, but you knew your attempts to sleep were futile. You groaned, sitting up and throwing your head down towards your chest. “I’m so tired.” You mumbled, causing the two men to laugh.

“This is your life for the next 2 months.” Johnny chuckled. “If he doesn’t marry you after this then you need to leave his ass.”

You chuckled, the irony of his dad telling you that made it even funnier. “I can’t believe he still hasn’t proposed.” Colson shook his head in disappointment.  

A laugh fell from your mouth. “It’s funny how everyone is more impatient than I am for my own proposal.”

“I don’t understand how you’re so patient! I’ve barely been with Megan a whole year and I already wanna marry her.” Colson threw his head back against the back of his chair.

“I mean it’s not like I’m worried it’s not gonna happen. We were just talking about kids. He just doesn’t feel the rush, I guess. I don’t either, what’s the big deal with getting married anyways?”

Colson tilted his head at you, “It’s like, this huge proclamation of your love. Like you’re telling the whole world that you’re gonna love each other for the rest of your lives.”

You shrugged, looking down at your nails. “I mean, we don’t really need big proclamations. It’s in the little things. I love him, he loves me.”

You could feel both men’s eyes on yours and heat ran to your cheeks as you thought about the idea of a white dress. “But you do wanna get married, right?” Johnny asked and you smiled.

“Of course, I just don’t want to push him into something like that. He’ll ask when he’s ready.”

Colson shook his head as you looked back up, “He is one lucky motherfucker. Literally every other person would’ve kicked his ass by now.” You chuckled, not saying anything. “Wait you guys were talking about kids?”

You nodded, “right before you got here, actually.”

Colson furrowed his eyebrows, “I never saw him as the type, honestly.”

You smiled widely, “He brought it up.” Colson shrugged, a hum coming from his mouth. “I think it’d be kinda nice. I don’t know how it would work with him being on tour all the time, but that’s a discussion for another day.”

“I seriously can’t imagine Rook being a dad.”

“Can you imagine Rook getting married?” You giggled as Colson shook his head.

“Well I, for one, am looking forward to being a grandad, so hop on that.” Johnny said and you laughed. You spent the rest of the time while Rook was in surgery playing connect four and eating shitty hospital food, trying to keep your mind off the fact that Rook was in fucking surgery.

When he did get back, it was a sight to behold. The nurses wheeled him back into the room, his eyes lighting up when he saw you. “Y/NNN!” He slurred, “Look at my beautiful girlfriend.” He said to the nurses and you and Colson busted out laughing. “She’s so cool. She comes on tour with me sometimes, and we partyyy.” He made a dancing motion with his arms even though they his right was in a very large cast.

“Okay Rookie, the nurses are gonna leave now, okay?” You said, trying to hide your laughter. The nurses gave you a look of thanks and left the room after leaving you with a list of what he could and couldn’t do. Colson took his phone out and started recording, knowing that whatever Rook was gonna say next would be funny.

The surgery went well according to them, but the doctors would be in later when the medicine wore off to tell you more. “How are you feeling?” You asked, knowing he wouldn’t give a real answer.

“I feel greeeat. I’d feel better if my fiancé were laying with me right now, but other than that I am just fine.”

You cocked an eyebrow, an amused look on your face. “Your fiancé?”

“Yeahhhh.”

“When did you propose?” You giggled, looking over to his dad and Colson who were both cracking up.

A look of realization crossed Rook’s face, “Oh shit, I forgot that step, didn’t I?” You nodded, “Do you wanna get married?” You bent over in laughter at his innocent expression. He pouted at you, whining. “Why are you laughing I’m asking you to marry me?”

You tried to speak through your laughs, “I’m sorry babe.” You took a deep breath in, “I’m not laughing at you.”

“So, you don’t wanna get married?” He asked, getting very upset.

“I do, baby. I do. But you gotta get a ring.”

“Oh yeaaaah.” He looked over at Colson. “Colson, where’s the ring?” Your head snapped to Colson, whose face went red.

“Dude you didn’t get a ring.” He tried to cover it up but you could tell he was lying.

Your eyes went wide and your mouth hung open. “Yes I did, I told you to bring the ring with you when you came.” He whined.

You giggled, hand going to your mouth. “Oh wait.” He said, turning back to you. “I can’t ask you to marry me right now. I gotta get down on one knee and my legs are broken.”

Johnny had an amused look on his face when you looked over to him for help. “Okay, Rookie. I’ll forget that you proposed and then when your legs get better you can do it again, okay?”

He nodded, “But you’ll still say yes, right?”

“I’ll still say yes.” You smiled, eyes closing as you continued to laugh. “You should get some sleep, hun.” You moved his braids out of his face.

“I wanna cuddle.” He pouted.

“You just had surgery; I can’t give you cuddles.” You frowned as he looked sad.

“Why don’t you love me?”

“I do love you, Rookie. I just can’t cuddle you with your arm broken.” You could hear Colson wheezing from the opposite side of the bed. “Get some sleep and we can cuddle when you wake up.”

He groaned but leaned back into the bed anyways, slowly drifting off to sleep. You turned to Colson, eyes wide and face red. “You had a whole conversation about marriage while you had his ring in your bag?” You whisper screamed.

He raised his hands up in surrender, “I was just doing what I was told. I didn’t think he’d propose to you while he was high off his ass on anesthesia.” He chuckled.

Johnny chuckled, “at least you got it on video.” You sighed and rolled your eyes, putting your face in your hands.

“Congratulations!” Colson said, eyes swinging up in the air.

[lazuli-bloom]

Cold Comfort

Beetlejuice x Reader

Word Count : 1552

Hurt/Comfort

After a rough day of work all you want to do is hide away and cry, only for Betelgeuse to find you.

You drag your feet to the front door of your apartment. The key in hand, you pause before bringing it up to unlock the door. You rub at your sore eyes and try your best to flatten down your hair. Everything hurt. Aches, dizziness, a pounding in your head. Anguish and misery swirled in your mind, bleeding out into your appearance. You ready yourself, taking in a breath before unlocking the front door. It pushes open with ease and you step inside to a dark living room. You step inside, letting out a cheery hello. Silence. There was no reply, no one else in the apartment. A strange blend of relief and sadness mixed in your heart as you closed the door. Once shut, the dam you thought was holding back everything broke. You grab at your chest as shaky hiccups accompany your sobs. Why did you let that shit bother you? Why did it sting so much worse today? You shake your head, closing your eyes tight, but it didn’t stop the tears. You couldn’t just stay in front of the door. As much as you yearned to collapse right there, it would just cause more problems. Your roommate could be back soon, and he didn’t need to see you as a complete wreck. Working quick, you grab your water bottle from the fridge and one of the more filling snacks you had. You take it all to your room and leave a note taped to your door. A simple one that just said work left you tired and went to bed early. You kept the lights off and haphazardly changed into your pajamas, leaving your work clothes in crumpled piles somewhere on the floor. Eyes welling with more tears, you crawl into bed. From there time blurred. All you recall doing was hugging one of your pillows and wailing into it to smother out the sound. Negative thoughts came in cycles, crashing down in full force then to resend to a numb ache, only to crash back down with a fresh wave of sorrow. You were a burden; you deserved nothing good. All you do is annoy others. They’re all just too nice to point it out and say it to your face. Everyone hates you and wants you gone. The tears never stopped. The pain in your head seeped down into your heart. Without thinking, you sobbed out a plea for these thoughts to go away. You knew deep down these thoughts and ideas were wrong, but that didn’t stop the pain. What did stop them was the bed shifting, adjusting to the new weight close to the middle of your back. The pain was quick to crawl back into your thoughts and you pull the blankets over yourself. Go away. That’s what you wanted to say. But the words came out as some incomprehensible croak. “Babes, what’s wrong?” His voice was soft and full of worry. You didn’t need to look at him to know his expression. His tone, his hand rubbing circles over the blankets, the soft pleas asking you to talk. You upset him. “Nothing.” “Don’t lie, what’s wrong?” You pull the covers tighter. New tears spill and your head pounds with every sob that breaks loose. Part of you wished he would just go away and leave you to cry. You didn’t want him to see you as this ugly mess of negative emotions. And yet you also wanted him to stay, to help anchor in this ocean of misery. The latter option won. You move to sit up, keeping the cocoon of blankets covering yourself. You kept your head down so the hood could at least help hide your swollen red face. “I don’t know... a lot of things. A lot of stupid things that I shouldn’t be crying over.” He said nothing. You thought he might have disappeared if not for his weight on the bed, moving closer to sit beside you. “Work was an absolute shitshow all day. I just... everything went wrong. The place was scorching hot and no one could get the heaters to turn off. And customers are shouting at me like I was doing it!” You hiccupped and pulled the blankets tighter against your head. Your throat felt so scratchy and in need of a drink. You slipped a hand out of the cocoon and grab the still chilly water.

The water soothed your throat for a blissful moment. You steady your breathing after taking a swig and set the bottle back on the nightstand. More hot tears roll down your face, but you let them be as you continue recounting your day. “I kept screwing up. Mistake after mistake. Grabbed the wrong thing, didn’t explain policy well enough, couldn’t keep my voice happy and polite.” There was a pressure that snaked over the blankets across your shoulders. Your breath hitched and you run your fingers through your messy hair, sweat coating your fingers as they do. “I slipped up and started crying at work. And that horrible vendor had to be in the break room. He’s bad on most days but...” You grit your teeth. Your nails dig into your scalp, trying to reach in and throw away that interaction from your memory. “‘God, you’re ugly when you cry. What do you have to be sad about? Don’t you have friends to go to? Or did they bail on you because you’re being too dramatic? Just suck it up and get over it, nobody cares.’ He had the fucking audacity to say that shit to me.” His hand gripped tighter around your shoulder. He kept most of the force in the palm, but his fingertips still pressed into your shoulder some. And despite the blankets, you couldn’t help but notice sharp claws pressing down too. Not enough to hurt, but very much there. Your own nails let up from your head to go back to holding the edges of the blankets as close to you as possible. The stinging in your eyes ebbs when you rub at them, but the tears still blur your vision. “Beetle, do you think I’m...” You could bring yourself to finish your thought. A truthful answer would only hurt. You’d rather pretend to not care than shatter your friendship. You shake your head and said a soft, “nevermind, forget it.” A second arm slid over your front, and before you could worm your way out, Betelgeuse pulled you onto his lap. You pull the blankets tight as you could, but the demon grabbed a fist full of the fabric. You halfheartedly struggle to keep the blankets covering your head. However, it was a fruitless effort; he would not let you hide way anymore. Still, if you didn’t have a hood on, you kept your gaze turned away. “Come on babe, please look at me.” “No, I look terrible and you’ll make fun of me.” Your reply came out a weak hiccup. There was a moment of stillness, only punctuated with your soft sobs. Betelgeuse was first to move. He wrapped his arms tighter around you, pulling you into a hug. He buried his face into the back of your head, further messing up your disheveled hair. He didn’t exactly give warm hugs. But after being wrapped up in blankets and spilling many hot tears down your cheeks, the chill was refreshing. You didn’t squirm out of his embrace. But you didn’t relax into his arms either. “Why do you put up with me?” “I could ask you the same thing, babes.” Betelgeuse pulled you closer and nuzzled against your hair. His chest rose and fell some, carrying a slight breeze of air going through your hair. Odd, considering he didn’t need to breathe. He hummed into your hair. “But if you want to know, I made a list.” “No, it’s... you don’t have to do that.” “You sure? I got at least a novel’s worth of all the little things I like about you. Like, when you get really excited, when you talk about your favorite games, and movies, and other stuff. Also, when that same passion goes into you ranting about all the stupid little things that annoyed you. “Then there’s every time you offer me hugs when I’m even the slightest bit upset. “And can’t forget how you’re the sweetest breather I’ve ever met, always getting me things whenever you go out shopping, like that giant electric blanket.” You sniffle and chiming in, “You said you like warm things and when I saw it-“ Betelgeuse’s arms wrapped tighter around you for a moment as he let out a chuckle. “See? You’re always being thoughtful and spoiling me, huh?” “I care about you... I want you to be happy.” “And I care about you and want you to be happy too.” You finally let yourself relax in his arms. Wiping away the leftover tears, you takin in a shaky breath. Once you felt calm enough, you shifted, lacing your arms under his as your head rest on Betelgeuse’s shoulder. “Beetle? I was wondering-“ “You want to scare the shit out of the asshole that upset you?” “... Maybe.” “Awesome, you order the pizza, and I’ll try out an idea I had on the delivery guy. Then we can get to scheming.”

[spookyboywhump]

This was gonna be longer but it was already Long. Follow up to This

CW: Kidnapping, bound and gagged, forcibly stripped (nonsexual), stabbing, needles, drugging

***

Gabriel didn’t know how long they drove for. He was getting increasingly nervous and uncomfortable though, it was hot in the trunk of the car, he felt like he was getting sick. He shifted as much as he could within the small space, his limbs beginning to ache from being curled up for so long. He wouldn’t have admitted it, but he did cry for a while, angry at his brother, the people he’d been handed over to, and himself for being stupid enough to end up here in the first place.

He knew he should’ve been terrified when the car finally stopped, he had no idea what was waiting for him, but he was more relieved than anything just to have the trunk finally opened. It was hard for him to get a deep breath through his nose but he tried anyway, thankful for the fresh air. Of course, that relief only lasted until he was pulled out of the car, dropped on the ground only to have the tape around his ankles finally cut. He didn’t even get a chance to get away though, he was roughly grabbed by the arms by the other two men, and even though he kicked and struggled with what little strength he had left, it didn’t do anything for him, and he was dragged through a doorway into what seemed like some sort of warehouse.

He wasn’t paying as much attention to his surroundings as he should’ve, more focused on angrily yelling through the gag and trying to get his footing so he could pull away. He wasn’t successful, and finally he was taken to a room, a bathroom where he was held down as the tape was finally cut from his hands and around his head. He was relieved to finally spit the rag out of his mouth, only to start yelling right away.

“Fucking let me go!” He yelled, struggling to get free from them. “I don’t know what the fuck you want and I don’t fucking care, just let me go!”

“Not happening kid. Now shut up and stop your squirming, you’re not getting away.” One of the men said sternly.

“Hurry up and help me get him undressed, the sooner we can get the collar on him the better.”

“The fuck are you talking about?! Get away from me!” He screamed, but finally he was pulled into a sitting position, one hand was tangled in his hair and the other arm locked tightly around his neck, making it difficult for him to breathe, much less try to fight them. The other man had to sit on his legs to keep him from kicking, using his knife to cut through his shirt so they wouldn’t have to bother wrestling it off him. As soon as he got off his legs though, he instantly tried kicking him, only to suddenly have the man plunge the knife into his leg, causing him to scream, tears welling up in his eyes. He knew the man had a knife but he hadn’t really thought about being stabbed.

He was stunned enough by the pain that he didn’t fight when his shoes and socks, and then the rest of his clothes were yanked off him, he was completely naked and that was when they dragged him over and shoved him under a shower head, in no time hot water was pouring down on him, he hissed in pain as it burned. His leg was bleeding, which for the most part was ignored as they gave him a quick wash, easily the most invasive and humiliating thing he’d ever experienced. Thankfully it didn’t last long though, and soon he was thrown a rough towel to dry off with, and then passed plain black clothes to change into.

He wanted to try and dart out the door, but he couldn’t even put weight on his leg at the moment and it was easy for them to keep him in place. He couldn’t get away when a silver collar was suddenly locked around his throat, the slight construction still enough to make him panic.

“Alright mutt, do you want to know what that collar does?” One of them asked as they finally stepped away from him.

“What the fuck are you talking about?!” He snapped, his hands flying up to try and pull the thing off. At the same moment though, he saw he held a small remote, which he pressed the button on, causing him to shriek as a painful shock was sent through his body.

“That is what happens when you misbehave from now on. Every time you act out, you’ll be shocked into compliance. Now shut the fuck up, we’ll fix up your leg for you and you’ll be fine.”

“I don’t want your help!” He snapped.

“And I don’t want to help you.” He said bluntly. “But I have to, so deal with it.” He said, and Gabriel glared at him, but stayed still to avoid another shock. They had a first aid kit on hand, and apparently the stab wound wasn’t “that bad”. Gabriel would disagree but he didn’t speak up, just squeezed his eyes shut and waited for this to be over. It didn’t take long thankfully, once it was bandaged up he was helped up, he couldn’t have ran so he had no choice but to follow, leaned on one of them for support.

Now that he was led into the main area of the building, he got an idea of exactly where he was and what he was in for. The area was made up of rows of cells, two floors worth. It reminded him of a prison of some sort. There were people in the cells, anywhere from one to three in the small space. His heart sank, he couldn’t believe what he was seeing was even real. He didn’t know if it was better or worse that he was taken to an empty cell, shoved inside only to have the barred door slide shut behind him, locked instantly. He collapsed on the floor, unable to hold himself up, and he turned around to watch them walking away, leaving him alone in this cell, left to imagine all the horrible things that may happen to him from here.

***

Somehow, the stab wound and the shock collar weren’t enough to deter him from acting out. He didn’t know what they planned to do to him but he fought whenever they got close, in fact he spent most of that first day getting shocked and hit for trying to escape the cell every chance he got. On the second day he started trying something new, which, while animalistic and desperate, was all he could think of, when someone tried to reach for him he grabbed them by the wrist and yanked them down, sinking his teeth into their arm and hoping it was drive them message home to leave him alone.

He thought he could fight his way out of this. He didn’t know why he thought that, but he tried, even with an injured leg and the constant threat of electric shocks he tried. Even though he was exhausted and starving he did everything he could, he thought all they would do was beat him a few times, but eventually, they tried something different.

It took two people to hold him down, even if he couldn’t run he struggled and thrashed against their grip, screaming at them to get off. A third knelt down beside him, roughly turning his face and leaning their weight on that hand to keep his head against his floor. They had a syringe in their other hand which was jabbed into his neck, he winced at the pinching pain.

“What the fuck was that?!” He yelled, but they didn’t answer as they finally got off him. He was breathing heavily, his heart pounding in his chest, he didn’t know what they’d given him. They left his cell and locked the door, but the one who had given him the shot stayed behind for a moment, giving him a cruel smile.

“Calm down mutt, you’ll feel better soon.” He said before he left him alone.

Gabriel doubted that, but only minutes later he started to think he may have been right as the drugs set in. Over the course of the next hour he didn’t feel as scared, or as angry. He didn’t feel the pain from his leg or the muscle pains from so many shocks from the collar. He didn’t even feel the hunger pangs in his stomach anymore, he just felt nothing, and as alarming as that should’ve been he didn’t even feel scared, just relaxed, numb, curled up in his cell and finally subdued.

Eventually they came back for him, and he didn’t fight this time. They were able to change the bandages on his leg and make sure he hadn’t been hurt too severely in the past struggles. He stayed still, he stayed quiet, and he was only vaguely aware of what they were saying, about how much easier this was.

When they left him alone all he could do was curl up on the floor, staring out the bars. Somewhere in his head he knew he should’ve been scared, or angry, just something, anything more than the absolute nothingness he felt now.

[lemonlushff-iy]

History Lesson in how OLR came to be...

A year ago, @clearwillow, @dawnrider, and @keichanz had just finished what would be known as the spontaneous Vday “hot off” of 2020, and it was decided that white day was going to just be a repeat of what we had just done...only we wanted everyone to participate and it was going to be open to all, and you could do whatever you wanted. Tease us. Post completed pieces. What have you. 

Shortly after, I fell into a VERY bad depression. I’m not shy about it. I’m not shy about my feelings or saying I’m hurt. I think people should be able to say that, and have it not be taboo. So I’m open about it. I wasn’t well. I felt inadequate. Like what I wrote was terrible. Like people within the fandom ONLY liked me because I was there for them 24/7 hyping up their work and singing their praises. I was the fandom hype girl. It felt like none of my friendships were REAL. 

And I’d been ok with that. 

Until I wasn’t. 

And a year ago today...I decided that I wanted to work past those feelings. I’d been struggling with them for about two days at this point, and I’d been looking at Carra’s pixiv and was completely CAPTIVATED by her work. Specifically, New Moon Ride, which has since been colorized. I was nervous and so low...I’d removed myself almost entirely from discord and tumblr, but I really wanted to participate in White Day, and I had this...idea in my head about this girl returning home and having a fling with a cattle rancher. I wanted it to be like Sweet Home Alabama (which is an Easter Egg for those of you on Patreon, and something to look for for those who aren’t).

Needless to say...

My depression made me miss the mark on that...

But I very nervously went to Carra who was this FANDOM GOD and asked “Hey...Would it be ok if I did this?” Needless to say...She said yes, and in doing so...She gave me this AMAZING gift. 

It was supposed to be a one shot just for White Day. I’d INTENDED for it to be a PWOP. The depression got the best of me though, and that...Clearly didn’t happen. Instead I started pouring all of these feelings I had inside of me into this story instead...And it’s become one of the greatest gifts of my life. It’s my emotional support fic. It takes all the bad and painful away from me. And I WISH that what I’d been feeling a year ago was the end of it, but it was only the beginning of it...And One Last Ride has been there for me for all of it. 

Providing me with an outlet for all of the feelings I’ve had. It’s allowed me to deal with a LOT. Drama. Friendships that died and times when I was shut out. Feelings regarding my own late father. General depression. 

One Last Ride has become deeply meaningful and a piece of my SOUL.

So...Thank you Carra for this AMAZING gift you’ve given me. You never knew when you drew that photo what you were about to unleash...But...I’m OH so very glad you did...

And in the spirit of how I started One Last Ride a year ago...

I offer you ALL a piece of post canon smut. It’s just a ficlet because...I just FINALLY finished the FIRST ACTUAL smut in One Last Ride (nearly a year later) and wanted to save my bandwidth for MORE smut...Can ya blame me?

And now, a short fic...

���Inuyasha...she could hear…” Kagome weakly protested, trying to push her husband away from her. 

“She won’t notice,” he soothed, continuing to suckle at her pulse point. “She’s watching that thing with the talking animals.”

“That narrows it down,” she gasped, feeling his tongue burn a path up the column of her neck. 

“I turned on the tv and she pointed. I weren’t about to ask questions,” he growled, pushing his hips into the swell of her ass, allowing her to feel the hardness between his legs. “‘Sides. I’m still cold from building that damn igloo with her. I need my sexy wife to warm me up.”

Yes...but they had been so cute. She loved watching the two of them play together. And watching him bite the inside of his cheek to keep from swearing when it kept collapsing. She knew that even though it hadn’t worked, he was going to go back out there tonight and figure out how to build Moroha her igloo. Even if it took him until 3 am, he was going to surprise his princess with one in the morning, no matter what. 

And she loved that about him.

“Giving her a shower didn’t do the trick?”

“Please,” he snorted. “All it did was leave me soaked. And all I wanna do is make you wet,” he murmured, slipping a hand under her shirt and laying his palm against the soft, relatively flat skin of her stomach. 

“Yash…”

“She won’t hear,” he promised, his hands coming to cup her breasts over the lace of her bra. “Washer and dryer will be too loud and she will be too distracted…”

“But what about the cookies...”

“We still have ten minutes.”

“And when she tries to take them out of the oven on her own? She has a little too much of you in her, you know,” Kagome replied dryly as his fingers found the tip of her nipple. The pad of his thumb gently brushed against her sensitive skin, making her bite the inside of her cheek.

“Better make it eight then...”

“That sure of yourself,” she challenged, his gentle ministrations to her body was making it hard for her to continue to resist him. 

“I know you, woman…” he growled as he reached out to find the doorknob of the laundry room, and swiveled the lock into place. 

Good. 

No interrupting daughters. 

“I know what makes you wet,” he continued, pulling the lace cups of her bra down before lifting the wire frames up and away from her breasts to rest above them on her chest. He felt their weight in his palms, tweaking her nipples and making her head fall back onto his shoulder. 

“D-do you now,” she breathed as he found the lobe of her ear, pulling it between his fangs and suckling on it. 

“I think I do, Kags,” he smirked, one of his palms sliding down her rib cage and over the soft, silvery lines of her stomach to the band of her pants. He felt her freeze in his arms as his palms connected with those lines, and he kissed her that much harder.

She hated those lines. She’d done everything she could when she was pregnant to avoid them, but they came anyways, despite her efforts. She thought they made her ugly. 

He thought they made her sexier. 

“Stop it,” he reprimanded, kissing her jaw lovingly. He knew what that look meant. She was thinking about them again. How her body had changed since giving him the most precious gift in his life. He hated when she did that. “You’re beautiful. Fucking sexy as hell. I’ll tell you that every damn day ‘till I die. I wouldn't change a thing about you.”

“Yash,” she breathed, turning her head and allowing him to capture her lips in a sweet, loving kiss. He was so good with words...but his lips were even better at this. He had a way of reaffirming everything he said with his hands. His touch. His body. 

The only sounds that could be heard in the small space of their laundry room, were the sounds of the dryer turning and spinning the wet clothes inside, and their heavy breathing. The sounds of their lips moving wetly against one another as he showered her with affection. Showed her how much he loved her. Expressed his need for her and her body. 

Her hands slowly wound their way into his hair, finding his ears. She rubbed them between her finger tips, starting at the base and slowly working her way towards the fuzzy tips. He moaned against her lips and lifted her shirt, lowering his head to her soft breasts. His tongue found her nipples and she felt him swirl it around her sensitive flesh as his hands worked the band of her panties and leggings down her legs. 

“Yash,” she moaned, his name clawing its way out of her throat against her will. 

“Shhh...You need to keep it down, Darling,” he reprimanded, pulling away from her trembling form as he worked one of her feet out the bottom of the mess of clothing. “You don’t want her to hear.”

“I thought you said she wouldn’t be able to hear,” She replied, panic beginning to bloom in the pit of her stomach. Oh god...They hadn’t had any situations with Moroha yet, but she didn’t want to explain this to her daughter yet either. 

“She can’t,” he soothed, the velvety tone of his voice slowly calming her as he lifted her leg over his shoulder, kissing her thigh. “But you can’t start getting loud neither. No screaming, remember? Anyone would be able to hear that. Demon blood or not.”

Her cheeks turned bright red at the reminder of just how loud she could be, and then red from the feeling of his tongue slipping between her lips. He zeroed in on her clit, and her nails scraped against his scalp. Soft little moans of pleasure crawled out of the back of her throat. 

He used them as a guide as he slipped his fingers inside. Watched the trembling of her abdomen. The heaving of her breasts as she tried to steady her breathing. 

And then she was gnashing her bottom lip, her face twisting and eyes screwing shut as her orgasm swept through her body. He held her, let her ride his face as she came - let her pull his hair and whimper his name against the palm of her hand. 

When she’d finished, he pulled away from her and lowered his sweatpants and boxer briefs, allowing them to pool at his ankles as his hardness sprang free. 

Fuck, he was so hard. 

And she was so ready for him.

“Should have a few more minutes still,” he commented, turning her around against the washing machine. She lifted her leg, his hands coming to softly grip her delicate flesh in his palms and support her. 

“Should?”

“I’ll hear when the timer goes off, don’t worry,” he soothed, lining the head of his cock up with her entrance. He slowly sank inside, his head falling to her shoulder, and kissed her neck. “God Kags…”

“Mmm…” she agreed, her head rolling back onto his shoulder as his fangs scraped against her pulse point. 

He slowly thrust into her, his hips gaining in speed and setting a vigorous pace as he took her from behind. He sought out all the places he knew she loved, and his fingers brushed through the patch of curls at the apex of her thighs to locate her clit. The tips of his fingers swirled around it as he continued to work her from behind until the coil that had been tightening in her snapped. 

The hand that had been holding her hip, guiding hers into his, released it to slap over her lips as he nervously glanced at the door. 

“Shhh...Kags…” he grunted, his eyes screwing shut. He couldn’t take much more…

He was almost there…

“Cum for me, Yash,” she begged, lowering his hand so her words wouldn't be muffled. 

“Kags…”

What was all he needed. He tumbled, over the edge of the abyss, allowing his orgasm to sweep through him as he spilled himself inside her. 

“Yash,” she soothed, feeling his body go limp against hers. “What got into you today,” she throatily chuckled, and he rubbed his forehead against her shoulder blade. 

“Nothing,” he sighed, burying his face into her neck and inhaling deeply as his cock slipped out from between her folds. 

“Liar,” she teased, watching as he dropped to his knees to use his tongue and mouth to clean up the mess he’d made in her. “You normally keep it in your pants until she’s sleeping.”

Catching him red handed, was she?

He couldn’t lie. It wouldn’t get him anywhere. 

“I want another one, Kags.”

“Another one?” she pressed, her brow furrowing in confusion, and he nervously nodded his head. 

“Another baby. She’s getting older...And this house is too big for just the three of us...and I miss it. Having a baby around. And she wants a sibling too. All her friends have one. And I...I...I dunno...I just...Do.”

His words were so sweet. So soft and tender. 

“Yash…”

“Don’t say no just yet,” he pleaded, pulling his sweatpants up as he stood. “Promise me you’ll think about it...And...And please don’t be mad...It’s been on ma mind a while, but you ain’t even ovulating now. But thinking about another one and how much fun we had trying ta get Mo...Well…”

So that was why. It all made sense now. 

“I promise I’ll think about it Yash,” she grinned, pulling her leggings back up her legs and adjusting herself within the cups of her bra as the timer went off in the kitchen. 

“Mommy? Daddy?”

“That’s our cue,” he sighed, relief washing over him as he pulled away from her and slipped out of the laundry room. 

She’d think about it. It weren’t a yes...but he didn’t need one right now. That could come later. 

Right now, he just wanted her to think about the possibility of adding another one to their happily ever after. 

And it was a pretty damn sweet happily ever after, if he did say so himself.