#gave him some purple bandages in this one to change it up

[ace-bucket]

A Clint :]

[hitomisuzuya]

Catboy! Scaramouche x fem!reader Smut. Scenting. Breeding. Possessive behavior. A dash of Somnophilia. Catboy!Scara in heat. Choking. Some humor. Yandere!Scaramouche

I know I should be working on requests, but I have always wanted to try my hand at writing something like this. It's never a bad thing to expand one's horizons. I may end up making it a series.

You found Scaramouche injured and starving on your way home one day. You couldn't bear to leave him out in the rain in pain with no food, so you took him home with you. He hissed a little a you when you picked him up, and wrapped him in your jacket.

With some bristling from him, you got his leg bandaged and got him dried off. He turned his nose up anything you gave him to eat. He seemed to have a sensor for anything bought cheap at the grocery store. He finally found tuna that was on the more expensive side, and some warm milk suitable.

You stayed up all night with Scaramouche, reading to him. He lay curled up on one of your pillows on the other end of the bed. You were patient with him, since it seemed like he had been through a lot, and it was typical for cats to be stand offish to begin with.

You didn't fall asleep until he did. When you opened your eyes the next day, you saw that he had moved a little closer to you on the bed, peering curiously at you. He scampered backwards on the bed the second you woke up.

You affectionately named him Scarameow, to which he hissed at, but gradually accepted. You nursed the grumpy ball of fluff back to health. You noticed that little by little, he peered around corners, glaring at you, getting a little closer to you everyday.

Until one day, he hoped up on the couch while you were watching TV. He curled up in a ball next to you, and you swore you could hear purring for a few moments.

You hesitantly reached out to pet him. Usually, he fought you every step of the way when you wanted to show him affection, hissing at you and clawing at your hands. Sometimes he stayed in your lap for a little bit of time.

He hissed quietly at you before accepting your touch. He even seemed to like it because he moved his head into your hand. That night, he hoped up on the bed with you, deciding he wanted to fall asleep with you that night.

One day, you heard him meowing, motioning up at your bookshelf with his paw. "You want me to read to you?" You asked, to which he flicked his tail..and nodded? You thought it was funny how he even seemed to pick the book. It was the book you'd read to him from the first night you brought him home.

After that, Scaramouche started acting different around you. He was distant, avoiding you whenever he possibly could. You see, his rut was approaching and he'd accidentally walked into your room while you were changing.

You hardly saw him for two or three days.

One day, you came home to hear husky moans coming from the living room. You were startled to discover that your grumpy purple cat was nowhere to be found, but a boy with cat ears and a tail.

He laying on the couch, fisting his cock while he rutted into his hand. You could see layers of cum on his hand. His ears flattened instantly when he saw you. "Shit!" He cursed, hissing as he leapt up off the couch.

He went back into his cat form, darting off into the spare bedroom he always hide from you in. You now discovered that you didn't have a cat, but a hybrid, who grumbled that his name was Scaramouche when he came out of hiding, dressed in clothes that you didn't know where they came from.

Scaramouche had been up to things when you weren't home. He was scenting your clothes and your bed sheets with his scent. And in the middle of the night, in his cat form, he was scenting you while you slept. It wasn't long before he started sleeping next you in his human form, holding you curled against his chest.

He'd done nothing but jack himself off to thoughts of you naked when you weren't in the house. He would rub your panties on his cock, his indigo eyes squeezed shut as he fantasized about pinning you underneath him and fucking you full of his cum.

Your scent was starting to overwhelm him, you didn't know that you were walking around smelling like him. You were his. You shouldn't want to leave him alone when you went out. He started protesting when you told him you had to go out, and he insisted on going with you.

The night you told him you were going to animal sanctuary see a fox, Scaramouche got especially grumpy. He hated that you were going there, hated that you might be bringing another hybrid home.

He avoided you the entire time when you got back home. He crawled into bed with you after you fell asleep. He scented you, pumping his cock between your thighs, making sure his cum got on the insides of your thighs and near your cunt.

Scaramouche knew he couldn't keep doing this forever, you were sure to wake up during it. He'd come dangerously close to fucking you while you slept, itching to claw at and bite into your skin and mark you up as much as possible.

He had to do something. You were accepting and even seemed to like it the few times he'd gotten handsy with you in small fits of lust that he couldn't hold back, biting your lips swollen when he kissed you. He hadn't been able to stop his hands from roaming over your body.

Scaramouche never forgot the feeling of you shivering from his touches for the first time.

When being around you during his rut became too much to bear, Scaramouche pinned you against the wall, grinding against you as he licked up your neck. "Let me fuck you, let me breed you," He groaned, fighting the urge to tear off your clothes as he grinded his throbbing cock between your legs, "I don't think I can hold myself back anymore."

He enjoyed reducing you to a moaning, drooling mess underneath him, your fingernails clawing into his back. He fucked his cock so deep into you your eyes rolled into the back of your head.

His teeth ground and sucked dark bruises onto your skin, his fingers pressing more bruises just as deep possessively on your body.

Scaramouche hissed angrily when your hand reached out to pull one of his ears, a knee jerk reaction to your walls clamping tight around his cock as he kissed it deep into your sweet spot. His ears were always sensitive, his cock throbbing from having his ear pulled. "You slut," He wrapped his hand around your throat, squeezing until you squirted on his cock.

His body shuddered in pleasure when he cummed inside of you. After fucking his cum inside of you, he licked you clean, eating you out until you were babbling and begging to cum inside of you again.

"What a cock drunk slut you are, you want to be bred that badly, hm?" Scaramouche gave your clit a few long sicks before he flipped you over, tugging your hips up to push his cock back inside of you.

During the rest of his heat, Scaramouche kept you isolated from everyone else, fucking you sometimes from hours in fits of frenzied lust.

As the day of when the fox hybrid was supposed to be coming home with you, he got especially aggressive and dominant with you while he was fucking you. It was already driving him crazy how you were starting to smell like the fox hybrid whom he'd heard you call Childe.

Imagine your surprise when one day, Scaramouche turned up with two other hybrids that looked nearly identical to him. They were named Wanderer and Kunikuzushi.

[letsquestjess]

The Call of Home (Crosshair x GN!Reader)

Summary: When Crosshair comes home after another fight, you make a decision that will change your lives for the better.

Word count: 1.7K

Warnings: Established relationship. Mentions of injury and blood. Bit angsty but has a fluffy ending. Going to put an 18+ and an MDNI on this one for slightly suggestive themes towards the end.

-- -- -- -- --

Sleep teased at the threads of your consciousness and the final images of your cosy dream faded. An enticing voice in the recesses of your mind told you to snuggle into the warmth of your duvet, to ignore whatever had disturbed your rest and to slip back into the world of slumber again, but a crash outside your room wiped away any chance of settling. A distant hiss drifted in, followed by a mumbled curse and noisy rummaging. 

Wide awake, you startled upright. You fumbled blindly in the dark until your fingers met with the cold drawer handle, easing it out and finding the reassuring shape of the knife hilt inside. The wedge of light slipping through the ajar door illuminated the weapon as you swung your legs from the bed and removed the protective cover. 

Outside, the noises subdued, but you could hear muffled scrapes and tearing fabric. This better not be what I think it is, you thought, fearlessly swinging the door open and bracing to strike. Faint shadows danced on the wall and an all too familiar silhouette moved within the mellow glow. 

“What are you doing with that, sweetheart?” Crosshair said as you pattered into the kitchen, the knife still firmly in your grasp. He clenched a packet between his teeth, tore it open, and forced the wipe over the gash in his hip. “Unless you’re going to cut some bandages with it, you can put it down now.” 

You flung the blade onto the work surface and dragged a chair around the table to sit in front of him. Streaks of blood had dried on his cheeks to mingle with the sheen of sweat. “You need to see a medic,” you said, checking him over for any other injuries. As you tended to the dripping red nicks near his shoulder, you noticed the crimson and purple bruises blooming on his knuckles. 

“No,” he grunted, breathing through a wave of searing agony and shaking his head. “No medics. Just do what you can.” 

“Cross-”

“Please.”

The anguish in his weary, sunken eyes was enough to tear you apart, and freeing a lengthy breath, you wriggled out of the chair to crouch by his side. “I’m sorry, I’ll be quick,” you said, helping him lift the blood-soaked wipe and trying not to let the whimper he gave shake your resolve. You angled yourself a little closer to assess the extent of the damage. “It’s not too deep, you won’t need stitches, but you’ll have to rest for a couple of weeks while it heals. Properly, this time.” 

He humphed, and a whistle hissed through his gritted teeth as you returned the wipe and placed another one on top. 

“Keep pressure on that,” you told him, washing your hands and donning a pair of surgical gloves from the first aid box on the table. With deft fingers, you snipped open a slim packet and extracted the bacta pad, pulling it taut. It took a few mild prods and no small amount of coaxing, but you managed to get it to stick over the exposed wound. “Are you going to give me an explanation as to what happened or…?” 

Crosshair didn’t respond, his breaths labouring in his chest as he hunched over the table. His face contorted while the cold pad numbed the sharp throbs in his side. 

“You wake me up, again might I add,” you said, removing the gloves and throwing them into the bin, “trailing blood through the kitchen, and you decide to stay quiet?” 

“I got caught by blaster fire,” he grumbled. He didn’t have the energy to argue. Not tonight. “What does it look like?” 

Your heart raced as you bit back the urge to yell at him for putting you in these situations. You understood why he did it, why he came home so often covered in blood and bruises. Following the war and the Empire’s control, the general sentiment towards clones plummeted. Many who had despised them during the time of the Republic now felt more justified in their detestation, and much of it boiled over into violence. 

The chair let out a faint squeak on the tile as you lifted him from it, leading him to the refresher. After selecting some loose sweat pants from the dresser, you placed them beside the sink and switched on the shower. Once the water was warm enough, you handed him a bar of his favourite soap. “I’ll be in the bedroom if you need me, okay?”

He couldn’t look at you, nodding instead at the ground, and you left him to it.  

For over ten minutes, you paced outside the refresher, the plush carpet sweeping the soles of your feet until you’d carved a warm path for yourself in the flooring. You made sure the shower was still running before you wiped at the tears trickling from your lashes. You hated seeing Crosshair hurt. Every time he returned to you in a broken state, you wondered how long it would be before he wouldn’t come home. If the blaster fire would shift ever so slightly and… 

In a stifled cough, you snatched a tissue from the beside cabinet and rubbed at your sleepy eyes. It wouldn’t happen. You wouldn’t allow it. 

A few moments after the shower hushed, Crosshair emerged from the refresher. His dark gaze scanned yours. The instant you offered him your arms, he buried his face in your neck, breathing you in as though you alone could remedy all his wounds. 

Edging back, you guided him to the bed, propping him on the soft pillows and making sure he was comfortable before placing a kiss on his forehead. “Stay here,” you whispered. “I won’t be long.” 

His eyes followed you as you left the room, and he picked at the dry skin on his thumbs, almost startling as you strode back in with purpose and perched yourself next to him. The screen of your datapad lit up your features as you scrolled through the list of messages. You found the one you were searching for and handed him the device. “This came through this morning,” you explained. “Your brothers want to see you, Cross.”

Crosshair read and re-read Hunter’s message. You had kept in contact with them since your last meeting, and it brought him a sense of relief. Relief that if anything happened to him, if his recklessness cost him his life, they would ensure your safety. 

“I haven’t replied,” you told him. “I wanted to show you first.” 

What had he done to deserve your love, your thoughtfulness, your kindness? Nothing. That was what. And yet you stayed, even after hearing all the awful things that lay in his past. 

Retrieving the datapad from his grasp, you located the next item and returned it. “Saw this the other day. I calculated everything, and we have enough.” 

The sniper squinted at the ship listing and read down the specifications. “Why would we need a ship?” 

“To visit your brothers,” you replied, snuggling up beside him. “Perhaps Pabu might be a nice place for us to settle. Or we could travel a bit, see where the Empire hasn’t touched.”

“I’m not having you packing up your life and leaving everything you know just so I’ll stop getting into fights,” he said sharply, shame sinking its razor claws into him and hacking away another chunk of his soul. 

Your intuition kicked in, and you slipped your hand beneath his to squeeze his long fingers. “What if I wanted to move on from this place? What if this planet hasn’t felt like home for a while and I’d like to make a new start with the man I love?” 

Crosshair’s analytical gaze locked onto you. Your sagged shoulders and the resigned drop of your eyebrows spoke volumes, conveying everything he needed to know about your true feelings on the matter. “Why didn’t you say anything before?”

You shrugged and rested your head on his upper arm. “Never seemed to find the right time to bring it up.” 

His arms roped around you and drew you into his warmth, encompassing you in his protection. “I understand you fight with those people because they don’t like clones,” you murmured into the crook of his neck, “and because you want to make up for what happened after the war. You won’t get that from fighting, and I…” You huffed a drained sigh. “I’m scared you won’t come home.” 

With your admission, Crosshair’s grip on you tightened. Although he didn’t relish the thought of fighting, he couldn’t ignore the fact that it was what he had been created for. His hands had been made to cradle a rifle, and his mind had been finely tuned for precision and accuracy. His entire being had been honed and fashioned for the sole purpose of engaging in and dying in battle. But whenever he was in your presence, he contemplated being made for something different. Arms formed to hold you. Lips crafted to kiss you. Heart moulded to love and cherish you. 

When you looked up at him, he met your loving gaze with a comforting smile before leaning in to capture your lips. He guided your hand to his cheek and nuzzled your palm, a welcome change from the sterile surgical gloves you’d worn while tending to him. “A ship of our own sounds nice,” he whispered, his breath warm against your splayed fingers before he lowered them to his bare chest so you could feel the beats of his heart. 

In perfect tandem, you followed Crosshair’s shifts and gentle pulls until you were seated in his lap, peppering his jaw with slow pecks. Each press of your mouth to his heated skin placed whispers against his doubts. ‘You are loved,’ they promised. ‘You are cherished.’

Upon hearing the subtle grunt, you stopped. His nose crinkled. “Okay, none of this until you’re better,” you teased, climbing from his lap and settling into your space in the bed. Patting your chest, you coaxed him down and caressed your fingers through his silver strands. “We’ll find a home, Crosshair. Somewhere safe and peaceful.”

“Wherever you are is where I want to be,” the sniper hummed comfortably. “You are my home.”

TAGLIST (Message if you’d like to be added, 18+ only)

@skellymom @freesia-writes @the-hexfiles @theeyesofasoldier @multi-fan-dom-madness @savebytheodoresnonjosestuff @tech-aficionado @techsriduur @dangraccoon @starrylothcat

[yorshie]

Hi! I saw ur post about the angsty prompts, hopefully you meant send them here lol. but can u do 21 w Donnie? 🫣

Bayverse Donatello x GN reader, SFW mentions of wounds

It was another bad day. You could tell as soon as you got to the Lair. Tensions were high, and your genius was not in his mandatory resting chair.

Raph was testing whether or not he could crack the floor dropping dead lifts, if the sound was any indication, and Leo was pacing in front of the opened lab door, sending glares down the dark hallway every time he passed it.

You fought a sigh, setting your bag in the empty chair ext to where Mikey was staring forlornly at a plate of pizza, pausing to rub the youngest brother's arms and press a kiss to the side of his face before heading towards the eldest.

You winked at Leo, purposefully cheery, and he softened, unspooled his arms to accept the hug you offered before continuing into the Lab.

Donnie wasn't in the front room ,you only gave a cursory glance to the various workstations before heading deeper into the purple lit area. Eventually you started hearing the sniffling, the stilted breaths, before a long drawn out curse reached your ears.

You rounded the corner, steeling yourself for what you might find, only to see the back of Donnie's shell where he was curled over himself. Moving quickly, you slid to his side, taking in the hastily set up sterile area on his desk and the rolls of gauze and ointment set to the side.

He was trying to change his own bandages again.

"Donnie," you said softly, hands hovering, not sure where to touch or even if you should.

Golden eyes squinted at you, hazy with pain and red from emotion. He rasped your name, and you flew into a panic, scrubbing your arms with alcohol and snapping on a pair of too large gloves in your hurried scramble to assist.

"I can- I can-" His protests were weak, and you gently took his arm from him, uncurled his fingers where he was trying to cut the old bandage away.

"Let me help, Dee. Please. Let me help." You snipped carefully along the side, mindful of his skin while he leaned backwards, sides heaving with exertion.

"Some... genius." He managed, grimacing when you started to peel back the covering. "Can't even handle this..."

"This," you told him, "is a third degree burn. You need to go to Dr. Marcel." April's friend, the vet, one of the few with the privilege of knowing about the turtles' existence.

The order was met with silence, and you chanced a glance at Donnie's face, startled into freezing when you saw tears running down either side of his beak.

"I'm scared." He admitted in a whisper. "What if... he takes the hand?"

You paused, carefully not looking downwards, not giving into the fear of looking at what's been done to your best friend, what he did to himself.

""Then I'll be there." You told him softly, so serious in that moment. "I'll be there, and we'll figure it out, together."

After you wrapped his arm back up, his other lifted, curled around you. You allowed him to nestle against your chest, to breakthe deeply against your skin.

"Thank you." He whispered, voice small and creaky.

You pet over his neck, the slope of his shoulders, giving him points of contact to ground himself with. "I'm not giving up on you, Donatello. Not ever."

[selfaware-bungou-stray-dogs]

The Purple Sign. Part X

Self-Aware! Atsushi Nakajima x GN! Reader

Description: There's a Purple Sign on your door. Part X

Fluff. Atsushi pampering

Warning: OOC. English is my second language

"I didn't mean to... I am sorry! I am so sorry!" Atsushi's cries can be heard through the closed door. You wanted to go to him and calm him down, reassure him, that everything is fine, yet Yosano, who was bandaging your wrist, stopped you.

"[Y/N], not now. I must finish with bandaging your wrist." you wanted to protest, yet, Yosano's strict gaze stopped you mid-sentence. Yet, you whispered.

"But... Atsushi is..."

"I know" Yosano took another roll of bandages. "But, you won't calm Atsushi down, if he saw your wrist without bandages, believe me."

You decided not to say anything. You wanted, yes, but, Yosano was right. You close your eyes, trying to ignore Atsushi's cries. You heard Fukuzawa's voice, coming from the next room. You can't make out the words, but, if judging by the tone, Fukuzawa tried to calm him down. Soon, voices grew quiet.

Yosano pulled the bandage tighter, your wrist sting, and you winced.

A little accident happened earlier today. You and Atsushi were walking down the stairs to the first floor when Q and Elise ran past the two of you, accidentally hitting Atsushi. He lost his footing, accidentally hitting you. Good news, you were almost on the first floor. The bad news is that, while Atsushi managed to grab the railing, you fell on your hand, spraining your wrist and carefully sliding down the steps to the floor.

It wasn't bad, you didn't even injure your dominant hand. Yet, it was enough to make Atsushi cry and start to apologize again and again.

Yosano checked the bandages and nodded.

"Okay, everything is good now. Don't strain your hand, and it will heal in a few days." Yosano looked at you, her gaze became softer. "Now, go. You looked really worried about Atsushi. And take that." Yosano gave you candy. "For being a good patient."

You stand up, and, after thanking Yosano for first aid and for the candy, left the Medical room. Atsushi and Fukuzawa weren't here.

______

Everyone you ran into asked if you are okay. You quickly assured them, that you were fine and continue searching for Atsushi. He wasn't on the first floor, he wasn't in the basement. You hurry upstairs, to his room.

When you reached his room, you knock. No one was answering, yet, you heard sobbing, coming inside the room.

"Atsushi... Can I come in?"

He didn't answer, yet, his sobs became quieter. You tried again.

"Atsushi, please, I want to talk... Can I come in?"

Still no answer. You decided to change the strategy. You put your hand on a door knob and turned it. The door open slightly. You called for Atsushi again.

"Tsushi, I will walk in, okay?" You gave Atsushi some time to answer. Then you walked in.

Atsushi was sitting on the floor next to the bed, covered with blanket. He adjusted the blanket slightly, and now his face was free. His yellow-purple eyes were staring at your injured hand. You stepped closer to Atsushi and sat near him.

"I am so sorry, [Y/N]! I am so sorry for injuring you..." You put your finger against his lips.

"Atsushi, I am not blaming you. You didn't do anything wrong. It was an accident. And look" You showed him your hand. "It's not that bad. I didn't injure my dominant hand and Yosano told me, that I will be fine in a few days."

Atsushi still looked guilty. You tried again.

"Atsushi, I promise, I am fine."

Atsushi whispered.

"But, still, if it wasn't for me, you won't be injured. It's my fault. I was training to be your bodyguard. And I..." Atsushi drooped, looking at the floor. You put your uninjured hand on Atsushi's shoulder.

"Tsushi, don't blame yourself..."

Atsushi looked away.

"I feel like, I must do something to make it up to you."

You shake your head.

"No, Atsushi, you don't need to..." You sighed. Atsushi was too set on blaming himself. You must find a way to cheer him up. You two stayed silent for a few moments. Then you spoke again.

"Atsushi, can you, please, go into my room now? I have something in mind."

Atsushi looked confused, yet, he nodded.

"Of course, I will be there in a minute."

You nodded, showing, that you heard him, and left the room.

You made a quick detour to get The Purple Sigh from the library.

____

Atsushi already was standing before your bedroom door, when you returned with The Purple Sign. You put it on your bedroom door, ignoring Atsushi's questioning gaze.

"[Y/N], what are you..." You turned towards him.

"I knew, how you can make it up for me. Right now, we will spend the rest of the day and night, taking care of you. We will watch everything you want, we will eat anything you want, and I will cuddle you, until you start purring like a kitten. Got it?" You gently booped Atsushi's nose. He blinked, still confused, and nodded shyly.

"Okay... Let's do this..."

______

You were calling to pizza delivery service. You didn't want to risk and cook for yourself, and, the movie marathon called for some junk food.

"Hey, Atsushi, what kind of pizza you want?" asked you, while Atsushi was choosing the movie to watch. Weretiger mumbles something under his nose and answered.

"You can choose for yourself." Atsushi caught your gaze and hurry to explain himself. "I know, that today we are focusing on me, but I promise, I am fine with every kind of pizza. Choose for yourself."

You shrugged and dial the number of pizza restaurant.

With the corner of your eye, you saw, that Atsushi was picking up family films for today's marathon. He was choosing the ones, that he likes.

_____

You ordered Pepperoni Pizza and Pizza Margarita. Atsushi brought some soda from the kitchen.

You two sat on your bed, near each other. Before you two stand a bed-tray, with cut pizza on the plates, soda cans and can of ice cream.

You two were wearing cozy clothes, sitting under one blanket. Atsushi pressed play button.

The movie started.

______

"Something, I think, that I am not suitable for being your protector." Atsushi whispered. His head was laying on your chest. You were petting his hair.

"I feel, like I am too weak, too small, too much of a coward. That, it would be better, if someone else would protect you." Atsushi mindlessly looked at the screen. You squeeze his shoulder and kissed the top of his head.

"Atsushi, you are more, than enough. You are more, than enough to protect me. You are more, than enough to protect my soul."

Atsushi looked up at you, looking confused. You cupped his face.

"Atsushi, I always looked up at you. Because you tried to be better. Because, despite all the pain, you try to move forward. You have a special kind of strength. And I wish to have that strength in me."

Atsushi looked you in the eyes, shocked... and hopeful.

"You are my hero, Atsushi."

Atsushi crushed you in his embrace. He pressed you against his chest. You heard his voice, that was shaking.

"T-thank you... Thank y-you so m-much... [Y/N]..."

You hugged him in return. Atsushi was so overwhelmed with emotions, that he didn't notice, that he kissed your cheek.

_____

The room was dark. Food was eaten, soda was drunk, last film was over. Atsushi snore, cuddling with you. You ran your fingers through his hair and decide to lightly scratch him behind the ear.

And you heard it. At first, you thought, you were hearing things, but, no, it was real.

Atsushi was making a strange sound. A mix between purring and chuffing. And he was still sleeping.

Atsushi was chuffing in his sleep.

You smiled and continue scratching him behind his ear.

You fall asleep, lulled by his chuffing.

[plooto]

𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐚𝐝𝐯𝐨𝐜𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 ⊳ 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐟𝐨𝐮𝐫

synopsis . colonel miles quaritch—respected, feared, a machine . now, only bluer and younger the recom was near perfect. that is, until he catches the scent of a younger, field trained scientist. a distraction..but maybe that’s just what this programed machine needs.

words . 3.3k

notes . bts requests are open ! i’ll be adding some stuff too, so don’t be shy to ask <3 . lol accidentally posted this today instead of the 12th 🤧

arriving back at the base, you and the colonel don’t say a word about what previously happened. however it was all you could think about..

something catches your attention from the corner of your eye, legs wobbling as you take a look.

“ oh shit. ” you mumble, looking at your connected queues. your eyes widen and your ears pin pack against your head. a chill runs up your spine and you look up to miles, who was still looking down at you.

“ would you pay attention? ” he blinks, looking away from you to where you eyes were previously. his heart races as his eyes narrow at the connection. you gently pull your queues apart, tugging your pants back up and stepping past him as you try to not look down at his length at half mass. he on the other hand, did not look away from you, his hands moving on their own to tuck himself into his pants.

“ hope y’don’t expect- ”

“ i already forgot it. come, we’re behind schedule.. ”

you shook your head, ears pinning against your head as you think of your words. lying wasn’t something you did often, more often than not you told the truth. making your way into the science lab, you haded the samples to the researcher, earring praises for how much you gathered. you smiled with appreciation. you stepped back out of the lab, walking yourself to your quarters to put on clean clothes to start your research, you hadn’t made it very far when you were captured in a headlock.

“ gross! why d’you reek like… ” she pulled your head closer to hers, sniffing you “ quaritch? ” your face flushes a deep purple.

“ i just got back from that mission with him, remember? ” it wasn’t a lie, just..not the whole truth, zee released you from her hold,

“ whatever, hey, the other recoms and i are meeting up later to have some drinks, wanna join? ” your eyes shifted as you thought,

“ yeah sure, as soon as i finish my shift i’ll head over there. ” zee gave you a smile, chewing her gum as she turned to walk away from you, but not before she leaned back over,

“ ‘n don’t think i didn’t notice your tail when i brought up the colonel ” you slapped her arm, giving her a push in her direction. a laugh erupted from her as she waved goodbye. you drug your hand down your face, hoping to rid it of some of the heat.

what a day. you thought, entering your room, you stripped taking a shower, an attempt to wash his scent off and out of you.

making it back to the lab, your tan of thought briefly slipped as you were having one of the nurses draw your blood as a sample, tail swishing as your mind backtracked to the exchange with the colonel. he was so large..and strong. your face broke out in a blush as you still felt his large five fingered hand imprinted into your back, a chill running up your spine.

“ and, i’m all done. here you go. ” i thank the staff, thanking eywa she did not notice your flushed face or the blush that stained it. you went back to your station, arm shifting uncomfortably from the makeshift bandage placed on it.

by the end of the day, you were near beat. doing a field run, and having to run around the lab, your knees were wobbly as if they weren’t before. you stretched, hanging your lab coat and making your way to your room to change and heading out to meet with zee and the rest of the deja blu team.

approaching the door you heard cheers. you smiled at the sound of them enjoying themselves, your eyes landed on the source of the commotion—your best friend taking a rather large shot. the recoms around her cheered, slapping their hands together aggressively. another recom was the first to notice you, he stood up, making his way to you.

“ yer zdog’s friend right? corporal wainfleet ” he extends his hand to you. you look up on him, placing your hand in his much larger one. a grin appears on his face, a grin you didn’t notice. a yelp left your lips as he tugged you, lifting you into the air.

“ the scientist has arrived! ” you freeze curled up like a kitten, suspended in the air by lyle’s hands. zee turns her head, holding her now empty glass up to you, happy cheers leaving her lips. lyle shakes he laughs, pulling you back down to the ground.

“ thank you..do not do that again.. ” i say, looking up at him awkwardly. realizing his hands are still on my waist, i take a step out of his hold, making my way to zee without waiting for a response.

“ here, drink ” i grimace, shaking my head as i push the glass away from me.

“ no, i- i really shouldn’t- ” you heard boos, a presence behind you,

“ don’ tell me. y’ve all that bite ‘n y’don’t drink? ” you tail swishes, realizing who is behind you—quaritch. colonel miles quaritch. you don’t respond or move for another moment, the colonel behind you smirks, hand reaching to grasp your tail. you spin around, holding your tail in your hands, a half hearted glare at him as a blush coats your cheeks as you remembered the last time he gripped your tail crossed your mind.

pressed up against the tree, his hand wanders lower for a brief second, his large hand wrapping around your tail as he pushed into you.

you blink, locking eyes with the colonel, a playful smirk on his lips. your brows pull together, bordering confusion.

“ ow! don’ tell me boss’as gotten himself a girlfriend.. ” you didn’t hear anything—neither of you did—too busy in a silent stare down. the two of you just continued looking at each other, unspoken tension rising.

“ i’ll have a little drink, zee ” it wasn’t peer pressure, no. you just figured a little buzz would get you off edge around miles. drink placed in your small hand, you threw your head back, grimacing at the sting in your throat. you stick your tongue out, momentarily forgetting the stare down with the colonel.

“ what the heck was that.. ” you kept your grimace, the burning of the alcohol settling in your throat. the colonel watched you as you chat with your friend, eyes narrowing as you turned away from him. retreating to his wall, he crossed his arms, watching as you mingle with his squad. with a chair pulled up next to zee, she leans over

“ sooo, y’wanna tell me why you smelled like the colonel earlier? ” you face flushed as she nudged you

“ oh um, no ” you mumbled, voice unsure and wavering. you looked around, trying to get her eyes off of you, your eyes landing on the colonel in question once again, you try to hide the blush that coated your cheeks, failing miserably. before you were questioned, you blame it on the alcohol, which it probably was contributing to it, your brain becoming fuzzier by the minute.

the colonel on the wall behind you smirked at your tinted cheeks. even if you did work with those pathetic science pukes, you weren’t so bad. you giggled at mansk, sure he was quieter than the others, but you thought he was funny in your tipsy state. he leaned towards you, whispering something else, your face showed shock. from where miles was standing, he couldn’t hear what mansk had whispered to you, but he was watching. the way your face lit up with every emotion had him in one mean chokehold—one that he hadn’t been in since his teenage years. you stood up, tugging on zee’s arm,

“ i’m going to turn in, ‘ve got work early tomorrow.. ” zee nodded, uncoordinatedly running her fingers though your hair, you have her an upset pout, one that had no real malice, before waving bye.

that was the last time the colonel seen you. the pout you gave him when you felt his thoughts, how pretty your golden orbs looked when you were glaring at him—what the fuck? miles shook his head, pushing the thoughts of you that ran through his mind to the side. that stupid slip up was really starting to take an effect on him. if only he hadn’t kissed you right then, he wouldn’t be in this mess now.

meanwhile, in the lab you were lost in thought as you patiently waited for your results to finish. you pressed a finger to your lips, it has been days, yet you can still feel the warmth of his lips on yours..gah! that kiss was the reason you two were now a ‘mated pair.’ your mind continued to wonder, tail swishing happily as you thought of miles. you pursed your lips, pressing a finger to your chin. you two were a mated pair now..we haven’t explored that with recoms..you shook your head.

no! you would die before you let anyone know that your kuru joined with the colonel’s. you cursed, taking the data and plugging it in. you smiled, the data matching your hypothesis was the only thing you needed. your research for today was complete—doesn’t mean you weren’t going to try and give yourself a day off. you pulled up other data you wanted to work on, pulling your hair back in a messy bun, you began to work.

“ l’n, a moment. ” your head slowly lifted from the small screen in front of you too look up at the general. you groaned internally, knowing she wanted to send you out again. you stood up from your chair, walking over to the general and stepping outside the lab with her. you didn’t bother kneeling down this time, wanting to make this conversation short and cordial.

“ the deja blu squad is down a member. we need you to fill their spot. ” your eyes widened, an excuse on why you absolutely couldn’t bubbling in your throat. “ you’re already field trained, l’n. you are the best candidate we have. you fly out with the squad in two days. ” you nodded once, giving her a salute you returned to your work, sinking deeper into your swivel chair as you worked.

looks like you weren’t getting that day off..

the days leading up to the mission were a blur. you didn’t sleep well, finding yourself up at night, pillow case wet as you felt the effects of not being near your mate. your mate. you scoffed, you pulled yourself to sit up in bed, looking at the clock. 0400. you groaned, at this rate, you’ll never get any sleep. you forced your body to move, putting on a pair of cargo shorts and a short sleeved tee. entering the desolate hallway, you made your way to the armory. testing if the vest fit, and the gun wasn’t too big for your arms. it did not fit, nor did the gun fit well. you cursed in na’vi, looking around and finding a belt with the same pockets or compartments the vest did. twisting and turning, you did what you could to make sure that the belt you had on didn’t shift or give way while you were out.

hyper fixated on the belt, you didn’t pay attention to the hiss of the door opening behind you. the colonel watched as you shimmied, observing your movements with a faint grin on his face.

“ think y’got it on tight enough, cupcake? ” you turned quickly, looking up at the colonel with startled eyes. he holds his hands up, “ d’nt mean to frighten ya, ” he admits, his way of apologizing you learned. you nodded once, turning back to make sure your pockets were filled, extra magazines and whatever else you thought was needed. the colonel stepped closer to you, gently swatting at your hand when you reached to grab the gun that was too large for you. you looked back at him, expression filled with confusion and irritation. he pointed to the other side of the room, a smaller but effective gun on the display. you put the magazines back, walking over to the gun he pointed at. you fiddled with it, looking at it confused. you knew how guns worked, sure but this one was a piece of work.

“ christ, and they said you were field trained. ” he pulled the gun out of your grasp, leaning down to explain to you the fundamentals before handing it back to you.

“ got it, princess? ” you lifted your eyes from the gun to meet with his. you blinked, a blush coating your cheeks. he was only a hair away from you, you could feel the heat radiating off of him, your tail behind you swishing with content, you body realizing your mate is near. your eyes flickered to his lips, your breath hitching as you look back up at him, his pupils blown. you blink, your heart pounding in your chest and using your head as a speaker.

quaritch was feeling the same. he leaned closer, his subconscious missing the feel of your body against his. his lips pressed against yours, melting together in a slow kiss. you internally mewled, the strain of not being near your mate washing away in an instant. his hand fits, resting on your nape to pull you in closer. gun long forgotten as he pushes you against the rack, the items inside shaking. he pulled away, only for a moment before kissing you with more urgency than before. your hands lifted, running along the expanse of his chest. the door hissed open again, this time you did hear it. against the want of his body, the colonel pulled away, pressing a finger to your chest, making up some bs reason for you to be that close.

“ don’ getcha ‘self killed. ” you watched him as he walked away, your chest heaving. your eyes danced over to the person who walked through the door—wainfleet. you swallowed, nodding once before pulling on the gun stray, tightening it comfortably.

“ need a hand? ” you didn’t shake your had soon enough, wainfleet already walking over to you, leaning over you to pull the straps tighter. you purse your lips, feeling tiny next to him. “ how’s that? ” you nod, not looking up at him. his hand resting on your shoulder drew your attention, doe eyes finally looking up at him,

“ don’t worry your pretty head about the colonel, he gets off on giving people a hard time. shoulda seen him with the new recruits.. ” you give him a small smile,

“ thanks.. ” you mumble, receiving a nod from the corporal.

soon, the rest of the recoms fill the room, gearing to go on the expedition. you ignore miles’ gaze when you all walk out to the chopper. awkwardly stepping on board, you tucked yourself into a corner, being the smallest so you were out of the way.

“ pinky, up here, that’s mansk’s spot. ” you don’t bother showing your irritation, you just. get up, mansk taking his spot on the chopper while you took the spot behind colonel, the one beside him belonging to zee. as the bird fits off the ground, you hold onto one of the bars, waiting for it to get into the heart of pandora. your eyes begin to droop, but just as fatigue was about to embrace you, the smell of pandora’s untainted air hits your nose.

you keep your eye closed as you breathe in it’s smell, welcoming it with open arms as you sigh in content. but what you didn’t notice, was the colonel’s tail wrapping itself around yours. your eyes are fixated on pandora, leaning yourself out of the chopper, hand still gripping the bar as you leaned out, nowhere near tall enough to hit your head. your tails unwrapped, but you didn’t notice, too enthralled of the pure beauty that came with this planet. the chopper touched down, and you jump out immediately, but standing still to look at the sky—pink with pandora’s moons foating just beyond its reach, you smile. a smile of pure bliss and serene happiness.

“ pinky, get here. ” you were snapped out of your daze, falling in beside colonel as he starts briefing on the mission.

“ we spread out in twos, we meet back here before eclipse and we do the same tomorrow. ” you shouldn’t have spaced out while he was assigning buddies, but you did anyways. you blink a few times, brows pulling together in confusion. did he call you pinky?

“ christ- hey! how many times i gotta tell ya getcha head out cha ass? ” his hand grips on the back of your neck, fingers resting on the sides. your heart beats so hard and so fast you were sure he felt it in his fingers. you swallow the lump in your throat before replying,

“ so-sorry sir. ” he gives you cocky smile, pushing you in front of him.

“ y’r with me, wont have you getting anyone on my squad killed. ” your ears fatten against your head at his comment, but you walk anyway. you don’t really pay him any attention, your body knows to follow him, so it does, but you were lost in thought, your mind drifting from the sight of pandora, to his thighs—so thick, and strong..

“ like whatcha see? ” your eyes snap up to his, a blush staining your blue cheeks before you look away. “ oh, don’ look away now, cupcake. where’s that fire from this mornin’? ” your blush deepens, but you recover quickly, spitting back a response,

“ what is this- this game you’re playing, colonel? is it fun to you? ” you drop the gun, letting it hang around your shoulders as you flail your arms out, eyes narrowing as him. miles blinks, taken aback from your outburst. his ears flatten against his head, realizing he just might’ve offended you.

“ no, ‘m not playing any game, ” the hell’re you on? he wanted to add, his resolve crumbling as he looks at you longer. “ you drive me crazy, ‘kay? since that braid thing that happened y’re all in my mind, distractin’ me n shit. ” you blink at him, shocked. he steps towards you, but you don’t back up, you let him approach you, craning your head to look up at him. he raises his hand, cupping the side of your head, fingers brushing the base of your queue.

“ q- quaritch.. ” you mumble, voice trying to show restraint, but your body reacts the opposite way, leaning into his touch.

“ miles. ” he corrects you, tilting your head to look up at him.

“ miles, we shouldn’t.. you are the colonel, i- we’re- we’re not compatible, ” his ears flatten,

“ this int for everyone. this is you n me, cupcake. ” he pauses for a moment, his other hand resting on the other side of your face, forcing your eyes to truly lock with his. “ j’st us. ” you blink up at him, small hands coming to rest on his wrists. mumbling words in na’vi he didn’t understand. you wanted to fight this, this pull, you couldn’t, you nodded, gripping his wrists the slightest bit tighter. his ears lift from his head, relieved. miles pulls you in for a short but rough kiss. without anyone to interrupt him this time, he pulled you closer. moving the guns out of the way, his hands move from your face, hooking under your thighs, and lifting you off the ground, wrapping your legs around his thin waist. he. pulls you as flush as he can against him, tilting his head to trail hot kisses down your neck. his fangs drag across where he felt your pulse, daring to sink into the soft flesh.

“ wait- don’t. it’ll bruise, ” his eyes close, resting his big head in the crook of your neck, taking in your scent.

“ alright. ” he sets you back down on the ground, but his hands didn’t leave you, one hand making it’s way to rest just above your ass, ring finger and middle finger brushing the base of your tail. “ c’mon, princess. ” he nudges you in front of him, fingers dragging down the length of your tail as he watches you walk.

published . october 12 10 , 2023

[klaustozier]

bandages ; joel miller

SUMMARY: joel returns to jackson with some wounds after doing a patrol mission and you will help him change his bandages.

warnings: joel miller x fem!reader, alcohol, it's snowing because i think it's beautiful, joel has injuries *-* (so hot), you're younger than him, the story takes place between part 1 and 2 of the game, there are no spoilers , fingering, oral, some slaps on the face, mention of the joel's chest hair, cumming in mouth, big cock!joel, pet names (baby girl)

word count: 1.9k

english is not my first language, so i’m sorry for any mistakes.

enjoy!

"Here", you said, giving Joel a glass of whisky.

The man was sitting on the couch, a few buttons of his plaid shirt undone, his left hand and right arm bandaged because of some bruises he got while going on a patrol to prevent Infected from approaching the area.

You took care of him since Maria said she would take care of Tommy. Joel was not a difficult man to deal with and the affection he had for Ellie was adorable, who that day was at a friend's house, she was going to spend the night with them having a pajama party. They both thought it was good that she had a remotely normal adolescence considering all the shit that was happening.

"Thanks", he said, taking a sip of his whiskey as you began to undo the bandages on his hand to change them.

"You have to be careful when you go out on patrol", you commented, after cleaning the wound and starting to bandage it again.

"I'm sorry if my hard and extremely precious work isn't being done so well, young lady", he mocked, making you laugh, "I'm protecting you, you know?"

"I know", you got off the coffee table and sat next to him on the sofa, lifting his sleeve a little and started to remove the bandages on his arm, "But still, you're not that young anymore."

Joel looked at you in shock, "I can't believe it", and chuckled, "I'm at the top of my physical potential."

You laughed softly, "If you say so I believe it."

"You have no idea how much I run every day and even in the snow!", the brunette defended himself.

You finished putting the clean bandage on the older one's arm, "Fine, fine", you agreed, "if you say so, I believe it", he rolled his eyes and took another sip of his whiskey, "Open your shirt for me. "

"What?", Joel looked at you with a raised eyebrow, "Is that how it is nowadays? In my day it was customary to pay for at least one dinner."

"I gave you whiskey", you replied.

"That's mine! You're at my house!", he reminded you, making you laugh.

"Sorry", you smiled, "I owe you a bottle of whiskey, deal?"

"Hm", he grumbled, "I'm not that easy, I want a very fancy one."

"You will drink what they have, mister Miller", you informed, "Now, open your blouse, let me see your bruises."

"So demanding", he started undoing the buttons on his red and black shirt, "I like women like that."

You chuckled softly feeling your cheeks heating up gently, seeing his chest with slight bruises, after all he had only fallen while running away from the infected, but it was still good to check if they needed new bandages. His chest hair had some gray hair mixed with the darker ones and it was so pretty.

You took off the bandage that was over his ribs and cleaned the small wound. It was pretty purple from the blow, but it still had a cut and it wasn't good to let something like that get infected these days.

The two of you were silent while you finished putting the bandages on, he was drinking looking at you with a certain fascination.

 "All set, Joel", you said, looking up at him and feeling butterflies flutter in your stomach.

"Thank you", he smiled small, his hand going to a lock of your hair that was escaping from behind your ear, "You are a very beautiful woman."

"You can hit on me all you want, Mr. Miller, you'll only get one bottle of whiskey", you joked, wanting to relieve a little of your shame, but you couldn't, the intense way he looked at you, was making you so nervous.

"Shit, I thought I could get two bottles out of you", he teased, sliding his fingers down your cheek, "You think this strong chest doesn't deserve two bottles?"

You laughed, "I think your ego alone would drink both bottles."

"You need to respect me, I am older than you."

"I will not."

Joel laughed and leaned towards you, his fingers tangling in your hair, looking at your lips before kissing you. You sighed softly letting yourself be kissed, your tongue tangling with his, tasting the whiskey in his mouth.

You climbed onto his lap, sitting with your legs wrapped around his, feeling his strong hands move up your thighs and gently squeeze.

"Joel", you whispered as his hands moved up your body, tucking into your blouse.

The eldest smiled as he felt nothing but your skin, "Don't you get cold?"

"Stop talking shit", you mumbled making him laugh.

"Cute", Joel kissed you, squeezing your breasts, hearing you moan softly, rolling your hips against him, feeling his erection on your leg.

Joel took off the jacket you were wearing before pulling your shirt up revealing your breasts. The fire in the fireplace helped to warm the room, but it still made your skin crawl and your nipples get hard.

The gray haired man sighed deeply, squeezing your soft breasts, bringing them together, his tongue sliding from one nipple to the other, making you moan and grab his hair, stroking as he licked one after the other.

Your hips rocked against his, moaning softly as your nipples were pinched and licked.

"Fuck", Joel looked at you, holding your chin, "You're so hot", he whispered, sliding his fingers along your jaw.

"Please, Mr. Miller", you pleaded softly, offering your face to him.

"What do you want, baby girl?"

"Hit me, please", you rocked your hips once more, grinding against his erection.

Joel chuckled, "You still have the guts to pretend you're a saint."

You gasped heavily as he delivered the first slap, pulling your face to look at him by the chin for another slap, "Joel", you whispered.

You kissed him, holding his face gently, his beard rubbing against your face, it would make you all red, but you didn't care, even more so when one of his hands squeezed your breast and pinched your nipple and the other squeezed yours ass, forcing you against his erection, making you grind against him.

You sighed and knelt on the floor between his legs, opening his pants. Joel sighed when he felt your hand on his erection, taking it out of his underwear.

His big hands slid through your hair, moaning softly as your tongue moved up his thick cock, sucking the tip before swallowing as much of his cock as you could.

You held what didn't fit in your mouth with your hand and used it to assist your movements. The wet sounds of your gags and hand movements filled the room, mingling with his low, husky moans.

Saliva wet the older man's cock, his body was thrown against the couch, his right hand in your hair while his injured hand lay on the couch. His chest rose and fell, strong and beautiful, the black hair mixed with the gray. Your free hand would slide across his belly sometimes when you stopped massaging his balls.

You paused your movements and looked up at him, your jaw ached, saliva glistened on your red lips.

"Lie down on the couch, baby girl", Joel said.

"Yes, Mr. Miller."

"I'm going to get really used to you calling me that", he said, making you chuckle as you laid down on the sofa.

Joel took your pants off you along with your panties and sighed, opening your legs gently, settling on the sofa. He placed kisses down your thighs, his beard brushing against your delicate skin, making you whimper softly.

The older one smiled softly as he heard you moan as his tongue sank into your wet pussy and slid across the delicate area.

You moaned and grabbed his beautiful hair, your clit being sucked gently, his tongue licking it with gentle pressure.

Your moans grew louder as two of his fingers dug inside you, "What a cute little moan."

Your hand forced his head down to go back to previous work, "Shut up."

He laughed and slapped your thigh making you whine rolling your hips into his mouth. His beard rubbed against your delicate skin, an indescribable sensation on your so delicate skin, his fingers making incessant back-and-forth movements, leaving you in complete despair, your body arched on the sofa, your legs wrapping around his head, not to let him get away. Your moans got louder and louder, which made Joel stop and you groaned angrily.

"Calm down", he asked smiling, his body straddling yours, "I want you cumming on my cock, baby girl."

You grabbed his shoulders and whimpered softly as he sank his cock inside you, taking it slowly as you got used to the penetration. As he was fully inside of you, his hips began to move, your legs wrapping around his hips, making him go deeper.

Joel's movements were raw, strong, he went deep and hard. The two moaned together as they exchanged desperate kisses while his hips didn't stop. Your hands glided through his hair and beard, his mouth tasted like whiskey with your own pleasure.

Your hands slid over his face, the rough beard sliding through your fingers, your moans loud and desperate. His body moved on the sofa without any difficulty, his thrusts made the old furniture creak. From time to time, Joel would stop kissing you and turn his attention to your breasts, watching them move with his thrusts. Your fingernails slid across his chest, scratching the beautiful, scarred skin.

The sound of burning wood was delicate compared to the sounds of your moans and skin hitting skin. It wasn't long before you were cumming, his hand pressing your hips hard as his forehead was lying on yours, listening to you whimper softly, your breathing uneven as you enjoyed the pleasure you felt as he thrust harder and slower.

"You didn't cum", you said, pouting when Joel shook his head, "Want to cum in my mouth?"

Joel's jaw clenched and he nodded, "On your knees", he ordered.

Promptly, you complied, kneeling on the wooden floor, watching the man stand before you, his thick cock wrapped in his hand. Joel watched you for a moment and sighed as you stuck your tongue out and positioned your mouth under the tip of his cock, licking up the escaping precum.

His hand began to masturbate himself quickly, one of your hands helped massaging his balls, making the moans a little louder, they were so husky, they made you want to moan too. His chest rose and fell rapidly, breathing unevenly and with a more agonized groan, he came on your tongue, cum falling over your lips.

Joel smirked stroking your hair when you just waited, "Swallow it", he whispered, promptly, you closed your mouth and swallowed the cum on your tongue, the older's thumb collected cum that marked your lip and took to your mouth, his finger being sucked as you looked at him, beautiful eyes blinking, "Good girl", he whispered. The gray-haired man took a deep breath and pulled you by the arms, sitting on the sofa and placing you on his lap, giving you a peck, "Are you okay?", he asked.

"Yes", you replied, smiling.

"I think after that I really deserve the two bottles of whiskey."

You laughed, "Fuck you", you mumbled, making Joel chuckle before giving you another kiss.

...

permanent tags: @laylasbunbunny @saiewithakatana @hopelezzromanticsblog @mrs-sherlock-holmes

please reblog and leave a like if you enjoyed it! and leave a comment with your thoughts, i would love to know!

see ya next time.

(´｡• ᵕ •｡`) ♡

♡masterlist♡

[mvshr00m-1]

Future!Leonardo and Future!Donatello ref sheets!

These took way too long, so please interact and reblog lol

Alongside the two character sheets (which shows two front face versions, one in full gear and one that's more casual. And also some other stuff around them, like Leo's sword & arm and also Tello's tech bow and battle shell)

I did also do a lil height comparison thing cause I can, tello would be a little taller than Leo. Prove me other wise.

Some design things to point out:

For the most part Navy's (F!Leo) design is pretty similar to his canon design in the movie, except for some of the marking being moved or added, and of course I edited some of his clothes to fit better with my style.

But since Tello (F!don) doesn't have a canon design, I was able to get a bit more creative with him!

Aka i used Navy as a base, but gave Tello both arms, made his trousers longer (and purple of course), and edited the belt thing to fit his design more.

I also gave Tello two plastron cuts on one side (like in my og design), but inside of having the other side of his plastron have just a cracked off piece or having it covered with a metal plate, I just made it look like it got filled in with a plastron like filler.

He does have the same arm gloves like Navy (minus the bandages).

Of course since Tello is THE science lad, I have him a lab coat with the Donnie tech logo on his upper arms, and made it pretty long cause that would look cool af.

I did end up making a proper battle shell design that is a mix of all his other battle shells that he used when he was younger! It having holes on the side where his metal hands come out, and the purple part being able to open up and inside would be some mechanism that can look like his little jet pack thing, which he would make with his mystic, attaching it to his physical battle shell

He also has a more detailed upgraded arm gauntlet thing.

And he does actually have purple chin marks (which aren't visible due to his metal plate chin implant), and also has little purple marking under his eyes. Both resembling the markings Navy has!

In my og design for Tello he had a different style of leg prosethics, but I ended up changing it since it was hard to draw, and the idea of Tello saying fxxk you to the kranng and using their robot legs as a prosthetic just speaks Donatello lmao

Tello also has very similar goggles to his past self, but the metal being much darker and stronger. And of course its been upgraded too.

Finally both Navy and Tello have bright yellow eyes... One, cause it's cool as fuck. Two, cause I would say present Leo and Donnie would have brown eyes, but due to the radiation and apocalyptic environment their eyes would get a lot brighter and would glow in the dark a little. Small cool concept I have.

[ishouldbedoinghw]

You Can't Erase Me

One Piece fanfic, part 6

Previous parts are in my pinned masterlist.

A woman enslaved by the celestial dragons is found by a man with red hair. Angst and comedy ensues.

A/N: This story will follow the canon loosely; some events will stay the same, others will be edited for the plot. The timing of events will also be slightly edited from canon so that certain characters are included. The main character is an OC of mine and in her mid-20s. Yes this is important. Character design will likely come soon.

TW: slavery, human trafficking, discussion of trauma, general angst, mention of nudity but it isn't sexual, alcohol consumption, Shanks

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

I'm not sure what color hair I have. At first I think it's pink, then red, then a purple. I can't help but feel as if I've seen the color somewhere, but I couldn't remember what it's called.

I lean in closer to the mirror, my nose almost brushing the cold surface. My skin is a dull shade of chestnut, and freckles are spattered over the bridge of my nose, which seemed a little too big for my face. My eyes are wide and sunken into my skull, the skin around them a dark purple. I couldn't decide whether or not I liked the color of my irises, the bright yellow-green reminding me of bugs.

I trace my fingers around my neck. It's paler than the rest of my skin, and rough to the touch. Every direction I twisted my head, it puckered and wrinkled, as if it was protesting against being stretched.

Seeing myself and knowing my name made me feel alive.

I was Jett. I was real.

Someone knocked on the door.

"Girlie, you done?" Hongo called.

I hurredly tugged on the blue shirt and baggy shorts Shanks had given me before pulling open the door. Hongo stood there with an older man with long gray hair pulled into a ponytail. Somehow he seemed taller than even Shanks, and he barely fit in the bathroom doorway.

"This is Benn Beckman, he'll bring you onto the deck if you want. Some jackass got himself stabbed in a bar, I'll change your bandage later." Hongo disappeared down the hallway, leaving me to hold onto Benn's outstretched arm.

"I'm assuming Shanks gave you that to wear," Benn remarked as he led me down the hall opposite the direction Hongo went.

"Um- yeah."

He chuckled. "I'll apologize for him, lass, because he probably won't."

I really hadn't thought about how the clothing looked, but when I peered down to study my shorts I grimaced - they were heinous.

"Don't sweat it, lass, we won't make you look like a Shanks clone for too long."

He paused in front of a door, turning to look down at me with his hand on the latch.

"Just a fair warning, some of the crew's back, and-"

The door was snatched open, and Benn moved his hand to grip the one I had curled around the crook of his elbow.

What was it with this crew and just barging in places?

A blonde, dark-skinned man wearing a headband that said 'YASOPP' was leaning against the now-open door. He didn't do much to block the sunlight pouring in, and I had to massage my temples and blink away the white spots dancing in my vision before I could even look outside.

"Damn, Benn got to the lovely gal first," the man, who presumably was the Yasopp Hongo often complained about, drawled. I almost laughed in his face, knowing damn well I looked like hell and not a touch "lovely."

"Don't be a nuisance, Yasopp," said Benn.

Yasopp clutched his chest dramatically and pretended to weep, throwing an arm over his face. "You wound me, Bennjamin. I'm nothing but kind and compassionate to you-"

"Shove that horseshit up someone else's ass," Benn grunted, "Preferably your own."

I couldn't help but giggle, catching the two men's attention. Benn sighed, rummaging for something in his coat pocket before leading me out the door.

The sea had to be the most beautiful thing I'd ever seen.

Benn led me over to the railing along the side of the ship, careful to keep me steady over any damp spots. Letting go of his arm, I leaned over the railing as far as my nerves would let me.

Light danced over the little chopping waves that pattered against the ship, creating a kaleidoscope of colors that almost hurt my eyes to look at. Bright turquoise faded into a deep sapphire as it stretched into the horizon. My vision blurred off into the distance, but the vast nothingness that laid before me was almost haunting. I wondered what it would be like to soar on wings above it, to feel lost in the sky surrounded by nothing but blue.

The gentle flick of a lighter drew my attention, and I turned to see Benn taking a long drag from a cigarette, the end burning a bright amber. He let out a heavy breath, smoke spilling from his lips. My eyes watered, a bit, and I struggled not to cough as I tried scooching away.

"Shit, sorry, lass," he says, his face turned in the opposite direction.

I faced the water again, squinting to see how far my vision could reach.

"Beautiful, isn't it?" Benn grunts, a slight smile on his face. "It never seems to end."

"Has anyone seen all of it?"

If he's surprised by my question, he doesn't show it. "One man has, but that's a story Shanks knows more about than I do." He grimaces, then mutters, "Maybe you shouldn't ask him, he might gab on about the damn clown-"

"Benn, if you don't shut the fuck up right now, I'm going to shoot your kneecaps." Yasopp's voice was chilling compared to the easy tone he had earlier, and his expression was downright murderous.

"I guess Shanks is on his way back, then," said Benn, undisturbed. "Please never mention clowns or bugs around him, lass, you'd be signing us up for torture."

"A sick and unusual punishment, indeed," said Yasopp somberly.

Benn, having finished his cigarette, steps toward me. "Guess we'd better introduce you to some of the crew."

"Although I'm afraid you've already met the most handsome and awesome member," Yasopp cuts in, dramatically flexing his arms.

"Don't you have other shit to do?"

"Such a dirty mouth around a lady, Benn! I would never-" and he faded off, still babbling as he disappeared below deck.

Benn let out a sigh, rummaged in his pocket again, then paused before thinking better of it. "Alright, lass, in case no one's told you yet, welcome to the Red Force, ship of the Red-Haired pirates."

I almost pointed out that Shanks was the only one with red hair that I'd seen, but decided to keep my mouth shut.

More of the crew started appearing here and there, carrying various crates and bags of things, though I couldn't make my vision focus enough to see. I had to squint to make out some of the various crew members Benn started pointing out, but most of them seemed so happy to be introduced to me that I couldn't bring myself to say I couldn't see most of them from where we were.

What I was able to notice, however, was how odd some of their names were. Rockstar? Limejuice? Bonk Punch? Building Snake? What in the actual hell? Benn gave no indication that these were just nicknames, either, and didn't acknowledge how strange they sounded.

Another thing I noticed was how big everyone was. I thought Benn would be the tallest man I'd ever seen, but Building Snake - damn, it felt stupid to refer to anyone like that - was basically a giant. Despite everyone's daunting appearance, however, everyone seemed good-natured and cheerful - with the exception of Limejuice, who seemed more quiet and serious, though still polite.

Gab won me over almost immediately, with his sweet and bashful demeanor contrasting his fearsome appearance. As one of the few members I actually saw up close, I was able to see just how much he looked like a lion with his long, wild hair and sharp teeth. He didn't say much, but he did give me a timid smile before scurrying off, evidently not for conversation with strangers. I couldn't blame him. I was leaned over the railing again, watching the water as the sun started to dip when Hongo shouted for me.

"Jett! Let me change up your bandage before we eat." I didn't think I'd ever get tired of hearing other people say my name. It made me feel less like some poor, weak stray that had turned up and more like a person.

As soon as I was wrapped back up, my back stinging slightly, Hongo was pushing a cane in my hands, telling me I needed to start walking longer distances on my own. While it was exhausting, I had to admit it was liberating to be able to move around independently, with no grumpy pirate to lead me around.

I'd just made my way back out onto the deck when i heard a loud, sharp whoop. The men seemed unfazed by it, continuing to load up- whatever pirates loaded up. Food? Water? Weapons, maybe?

It wasn't until Shanks made it up onto the deck that I figured out who it was. I was right - Shanks was the only crew member with red hair, and I was able to decipher him from much farther away than the others. He was carrying something large and round on his shoulder, and as he drew closer, I could see the wide grin on his face.

"We're celebratin' tonight, boys, I got my hands on the good stuff!" he shouted, all but slamming down what looked to be a barrel from his shoulder to the floor.

"We've got a new crewmate to welcome!"

-------

It was the first time since arriving that I had eaten with the crew. We were all out on the deck stuffing ourselves, and I was still buzzing from what Shanks had said earlier.

Crewmate.

Did they like me that much? Everyone seemed so happy that I was here, it was unreal. They didn't even know who the hell I was- although I didn't exactly know that either.

All night, I'd received choruses of "Oi, lass," or "Aye, miss," or the occasional "Need more food, little lady?"

The last one tended to come from the ship's cook, Lucky Roux, who was about as wide as he was tall. He always seemed to be knawing on a meat rack, a wide smile across his face. Out of all the crewmates I'd met, he was the sweetest; though if he was a little more outgoing, Gab could certainly give him a run for his money. Roux also seemed hellbent on making my stomach explode; any time I finished something on my plate, we was shoveling me more.

Benn sat beside me, his manners probably as proper as any pirate's could be. Shanks sat opposite him, having finished eating a while ago and was continuously chugging a foul-smelling liquid that Hongo had forbidden from me. He'd said that it would react badly with the medicine I was on; he also looked like he'd murder everyone on the ship if I didn't listen to him.

It seemed like everyone was drinking the stuff - liquor, I thought, after watching Shanks's cheeks flush and and most of the crew get a little less precise with their movements. Benn and Hongo were the only ones aside from me staying sober, and I was grateful for it. Hongo was in and out, making sure I was eating the right things then disappearing back into the cabin.

"He's cleaning," Benn grunted, fiddling with an unlit cigarette.

"Honey?" Shanks piped in, "the man's obsessed, I swear."

"Someone's got to be clean on this ship, and I know it won't be you, Captain," Benn snapped.

"What's up your ass, Benn, you've been a dick all night," Shanks giggled, "oh my god, maybe it's dic-"

"He hasn't had his smokes today," Yasopp interrupted, swaying slightly with an arm around Lucky Roux's shoulders.

Benn just grunted, his hand twitching.

I thought back to earlier that day, when he'd looked so guilty at making me cough. Did he stop because of me?

"Um- Benn- if it's because of me," I hesitated before continuing, "I don't mind if you smoke."

Shanks gasped dramatically, saying, "She does speak-"

"Shut it, you arse. Don't be rude," Benn snapped. He turned to me, and in a gentler tone he said, "I'll be fine, lass, don't want to spoil your lungs."

"I'm not a child, Benn, I'll be fine if you go somewhere else to smoke," I blurted out before I could stop myself.

If I'd pissed him off, he didn't show it; he just squeezed my shoulder, muttered an "alright then," and walked off.

Shanks absolutely cackled at this interaction, having no shame in teasing his first mate. "Spooky, I wish you could see well enough to look at his face right now." Genuine tears rolled down his cheeks, and he sloppily wiped them away.

With the absence of Benn, Yasopp and Lucky Roux had fixed themselves around me, snickering at each other.

"So, Jett," Yasopp started, "how old are you, if you aren't a kid."

I had to think for a moment. In truth, I had no idea how I knew I wasn't a kid. How young did I think I kid was, anyway? Eighteen? Twenty? Was I older than that?

"I- I'm not sure," I admitted, and Yasopp stiffened a bit.

"Amnesia that bad, huh?" he jokes lamely.

"I WISH THAT I COULD WAKE UP WITH AMNESIA-" Shanks's singing was awful, and the crew seemed to share that opinion, Yasopp grimacing and Lucky Roux's smile faltering.

"Shanks-" someone started to say before I interrupted.

"You're going to make me more deaf than I already am." It was quiet, but Shanks caught it, and he guffawed before his face settled into a pout.

"I'll have you know I'm a terrific singer, Spooky, you lot just have no taste."

Yasopp scoffed, before covering it with a cough that made Roux chuckle.

"The lady's got a bit of a mouth on 'er, even if she is quiet," Yasopp slung an arm around me, his blonde dreads brushing my shoulder.

-------

The night wore on, and although I was exhausted, and Benn had suggested more than once that I should probably be asleep, I found myself captivated by how the crew interacted with each other. They laughed and joked around each other, and everyone was happy to be there. A few of them seemed to have partied to hard - Shanks being one of them - and were either vomiting into the ocean or passed out.

Somehow, Shanks's head had ended up in my lap, and Yasopp and Roux were sitting across from us. Benn was constantly smoking a small ways from us, something that worried me until Yasopp assured me it was completely normal "Benn behavior".

"Ssssshhhpooookyyyyyy," Shanks slurred from my lap, and I awkwardly patted his head.

"Hm?" I'd gotten more confident in my voice as the night had worn on, saying a few more words at a time, and responding more often.

"Benn said - hic - Benn said the shorts I gave you were uglyyyy," he whined.

"Well- I- yeah," I said, looking at the bright purple stripes that adorned said shorts. "But thanks for letting me wear them."

The redhead shifted to face me, grinning. "Don' worry Shpook, we'll get you some woman clothes sometime."

I hummed a minute, looking away from him.

"Shanks," I finally said, gazing out over the dark where the ocean should be.

"Hrrngh," he grunted.

"Why are you letting me stay here?"

----------

Shanks POV

I looked at her, but she wouldn't meet my eyes. I'd seen the look on her face countless times on countless faces. I tried moving to sit up, but glaring white spots danced over my vision, and my head spun. Fuck.

I was way too drunk for this.

The truth was that in the time she'd already been with us, no one had been able to find any record of her existence. No missing person reports, no recent kidnappings - nothing that suggested someone was looking for her. It was Benn that suggested she might've been gone long enough that people had stopped looking for her; and I had a terrible suspicion he was right. It wasn't uncommon for all records of a person who'd been sold as a slave to "mysteriously" disappear, but usually someone would get by with reporting them in the News Coo. Some of the crew, including myself and Benn, had looked through almost a year's worth of any news, reports, or even wanted posters.

Our girl was nowhere to be found. To make things worse, Hongo shared his fear that the amnesia she had could be permanent, even if her vision and hearing improve. So, she couldn't tell us herself.

Maybe I could get Mihawk to look at some Marine record or something.

I shoved those thoughts away. We'd keep looking, but at some point, we'd have to tell her. But for now, I'd do my best to keep her happy.

"Finder's keepers, Spooks," I said finally, pushing myself up and groaning.

She watched as I raised my bottle, and I could've sworn I saw her smile a little when I shouted, "A toast! To our newest crewmate and friend!"

Nothing but cheers erupted from the crew.

[real-jane]

burritos and bandages

[steve rogers x fem!reader]

summary: steve has a run-in with your ex-fiancé, which requires some tlc... and the aftermath reveals some sweet and long-held secrets.

words: 4k

warnings: steve v high on pain meds, cuddly steve, canon level fist-fight/aftermath, enough fluff to keep your dentist in business for 100 years

a/n: This is the sequel to bug and bear! steve's a firefighter, that is unimportant but it is briefly mentioned. this idea came from a post sent to me by @thornsnvultures <3

--

To say that your mother is angry when you tell her your wedding is off would be to discount the tenderness of hearing her admit ‘I never did like how he talks to you, sweetheart,’... but she still makes you call every single guest the next day to call things off officially, and all the vendors, and the burden of paying the cancellation fees for the photographer falls squarely into your wallet. It’s worth it, though, especially to see her face change from stress to joy a week later, as Steve floats into view behind you on video chat to give a bashful wave.

“Honey,” she says to you, with one eyebrow cocked. “Is there something else you wanna tell me?”

Steve squeezes your shoulders. “Hey, Mama.” His cheek is pressed against your temple as he greets your mother.

“Hi Stevie. Are you taking care of our girl?”

He chuckles. “You know I am.”

“Good boy. Anything you want me to share with Sarah?”

“Mom–” you groan, but Steve kisses your cheek.

“Tell her I need Elaine’s ring,” he mock-whispers, cupping his hands over your ears. You roll your eyes, but your heart is in your throat because your mother instantly bursts into tears. You hug Steve’s arms as they surround you, as if to hug her, too.

She’s angry because she’s been so stressed out trying to rationalize your relationship with Brock for the last decade, and she’s angry that she didn’t get through to you about Steve ages ago, and mostly, she’s angry that she bought a dress she can’t wear anymore. But it’s not real anger, it’s just shock. Your mother is thrilled. When you tell her in excruciating detail about what made you decide to call things off–how something as simple as standing on Steve’s shoes in a dance lesson gave you clarity–her tears turn into an unsuppressable smile. She can’t stop shaking her head in amazement, and when Steve leaves you so he can run down and greet someone at the buzzer, she tells you how proud she is that you listened to your heart.

It’s not that you need her approval, but having it makes the rash decision feel like an inevitability which everyone but you counted on since you’d first said yes to marrying Brock Rumlow. It’s embarrassing, knowing that the two people you care about the most (and maybe more) don’t like your former fiancé, but you’ll get over it eventually. Especially living with your bear.

“Bug…?” he calls, and a heavy knock falls on the front door. You frown.

“I’ll call you tomorrow, Mom. Okay? Love you.” You exchange a blown kiss with your mother and hang up. The second you reach the door, you gasp, because Steve is leaning against the doorframe bleeding from the eyebrow. His cheekbone is already purple. He glances up at you, but his hair flops over his forehead and he winces. 

“What the fuck?” You swing the door wide for him to enter. His keys are clutched in his fist but his hands are shaking.

“Hi, baby,” he breathes. “Brock brought a bag for you.” He vaguely waves at an overstuffed reusable IKEA bag on the landing behind him, and attempts to put a hand on your shoulder, but he’s too dizzy. He misses your shoulder completely. You catch him around the waist and ease him to sit against the wall, just inside the door. 

“Jesus, what did he do to you?” you gasp, forcing him to look you in the eyes.

“Wailed on me. He only got in three hits before he ran off.” Steve’s eyebrow has already stopped bleeding, but his eyelid is so swollen, he can barely open it. “I think I have a steak in the freezer.”

“You want me to put a raw steak on your face?” You hiccough a pained laugh.

“I’ll cook it and we’ll forget this ever happened.” He closes his eyes, and leans his head back against the wall. You kneel on either side of his legs and inspect him for any other signs of where he might be hurt, but it’s just his face which bore the brunt of Brock’s unhinged attack. Steve’s fingers curl around your thighs when you sigh. “He blamed me,” Steve says softly. “Said you were happy. ‘Til I put ideas in your head.”

Your hurt squeezes. “Right,” you breathe. “Happy.” You can’t stop yourself from pressing your lips to Steve’s forehead. “Bear–”

“Hmm.” His head lists to the side.

“Let me take you to the ER–”

“No,” he scoffs, eyes still firmly closed and fingers gripping your legs for dear life, “just been a long time since I took a haymaker to the face. I’ll be okay.”

“Steven–you might have a concussion! Or bones floating in your sinuses. Or a detached retina. You might swallow too much blood in your sleep and choke to death–”

He coughs. “No more CSI, ma’am.”

“I’ll drive.”

“Not in your death trap–”

“Your car. Please? I will keep you up all night long if you don’t let me take you. Huh? Is that what you want? For me to lose precious sleep?”

“You are so pushy. It’s like you and…” he opens his eyes a fraction of an inch and closes them again. “You and your twin, there, don’t even care that I’m fine.”

You poke him in the shoulder. “Either I take you, or I call 911 and four guys with a stretcher carry you down six flights of stairs.”

Steve sighs. “So, this is what I get for loving a worrier.” But he smiles, despite his clear pain, and nods faintly. “You win, bugs.”

–

Close to midnight, you stumble back into your apartment with a drugged-up blond on one arm, and several shopping bags full of supplies on the other. Steve’s objectively fine; no broken bones, no internal bleeding, just a bruised cheekbone. And three stitches in his eyebrow. But the doctor gave him strong medicine for the pain, and told him to sleep it off. 

You’re exhausted, but he has enough medicine coursing through his system to fell a Clydesdale and he’s loopy. His cheek is pressed against your hair, despite being far taller than you, and he’s humming. All while you attempt to bring the bags into the kitchen, which are full of things he picked out from the bodega on the corner for dinner. Why he needed three bags of Funyons, only drugged-up Steve could say. 

“”M gonna cook, what do you want?” he asks, nosing your hairline. “My bugsy. Buggy.” He chuckles. “You smell good.”

“Oh my god,” you mutter, pushing him back until he’s braced against the cabinets in the corner. “Can you stay standing?”

“So good at standing. Watch me.” He points at his feet. “Doin’ it right now. See that?”

“Very impressive.” You can’t help but laugh. “Do you want your onions?” The yellow and green bag swings from your fingers.

“I want a burrito?”

“What flavor?” You dig through the bag that he crammed FULL of microwavable frozen burritos. “Nevermind. Your only choice is chicken.”

“Chicken is the only kind in the world.” He snorts. “Hey. I can do it.”

“No–” You hold up your hands to keep him from listing forward. He leans into your touch happily. “No operating heavy machinery, remember?”

“Pssh. I’m a professional.”

“What are you gonna tell the chief on Wednesday?”

“Got in a fight,” he shrugs. “My girlfriend’s chickenshit fiancé tried to get me back for stealin’ her away, and I told him he couldn’t talk to her, so he punched me, and then she bought me chicken burritos.” 

“Wait–” You freeze with a burrito in each fist and wheel on him. “He asked to talk?”

Steve looks down at his shoes and toes the tile. “He was yelling. I told him he can’t yell at you.”

“Steven Rogers. You didn’t say he wanted to talk–”

“Well he didn’t. He just wanted to be mean, and I’m protecting you.”

“I–” You stop for a second and take a deep breath. “We’ll talk about this when you’re not high as a kite.”

“You mad?” Those hands like catcher’s mitts slide around your waist and he noses your neck. You sigh, but you accept the embrace.

“Yes.”

“Why, buggy?”

“Because you don’t get to decide whether or not I can handle something. I would’ve probably agreed to talk to him for a second, regardless of whether or not he was mean. I’m a big girl.”

“Mmm,” he groans. “I know. You’re the smartest girl. You’re a woman though, baby, a smart woman and I know that.”

“Ooookay,” you sigh, leaving the conversation behind for the morning. “How many burritos do you want?”

“Three.”

“You gonna let go of me, so I can heat them up?” 

Steve reluctantly does so, and then he stumbles towards the living room. “Pajamas!” He calls over his shoulder. You rub your face in frustration… less with him than with Brock. 

But you admit to yourself that some of that frustration is a little bit with Steve, too. 

He’s going to have to get used to just being your partner–not your knight. You don’t need him to fulfill the silent protector role that he’s used to, because he couldn’t be at your side. Now, he’s the person you want to spend the rest of your life with, which comes with a certain amount of trust in you to handle your own shit. And a little more softness. Calling off your wedding, even to someone like Brock, has been much harder on you than you let on. 

Even though you don’t want Brock, you still grieve the change in the life you had planned. 

It isn’t rational, and it hurts in a way that you’ll ultimately grow to appreciate, once that pang turns into healing… and you want Steve. But it doesn’t make it easier to make a hundred personal calls to explain that you’re no longer marrying the man you’ve been seeing for a decade, and have to listen to every single person give you their condolences–authentic or not.

The microwave beeps. You pull the plate out and set it on the table. “Bear?”

Your man returns to the kitchen, sans shirt, still in his jeans, missing a sock… looking bewildered, and carrying one of his signature black moleskin notebooks. You can’t help but giggle at his state. 

“Get lost out there?” you ask. His expression brightens and he patters over until he’s toe-to-toe with you. 

“I think this will make you not mad,” he whispers, handing you the notebook. He swipes the plate from the table and attempts to wink with the eyeball he can’t open… which results in him bobbing his head and then grinning with more teeth than usual. Steve disappears into the living room, leaving you to inspect his peace offering.

It looks like the one he always has in his back pocket, but it’s the next size larger. The cover has a year crudely carved into it and you frown. That can’t be right. Why would a notebook from your senior year of high school make you ‘not mad?’

Opening the cover is like taking a step into a chamber of Steve Roger’s heart, and finding treasure. Your face stares back at you, from page one, sketched in faded mechanical pencil. Every shadow on your young face is smudged in by a deft finger, and your eyes… they sparkle. You’re not sure if your eyes have ever done that in real life, but somehow, a sketch communicates just such a thing. The lines which make up your mouth are softer, the shading finer. Like most of his time was spent on forming your soft close-lipped smile. At the bottom right corner are his initials–S.G.R.--and the year, once again.

The backside of that page? You.

Next: You, looking over your shoulder.

Then, your profile while you read.

A whole page is dedicated just to your eyes.

His first car, the pickup truck you used to set your watch by as it rumbled awake every morning.

And then… you, again.

The entire sketchbook, save an odd drawing of a squirrel (noted as ‘Bucky’s Long-Lost Brother’), a scratched-out self portrait, and several pages of football plays… it’s filled with sketches of You. 

“Steve?” you peep. 

His face appears around the doorway, looking sheepish. You swallow hard. “I’m… I’m not mad,” you manage. It’s the only way you can verbalize the genuine shock of seeing your image immortalized by his hand. “This is really lovely.”

He stuffs his hands in his jeans and shrugs. “Just love you, ‘s all.”

“You drew me… a lot,” you laugh in disbelief, flipping again to the front page. Steve stands before you and nods.

“Pretty much all my pencil ever wanted to do,” he says.

“No wonder you almost failed Trig.”

He chuckles. “I have about… six more of those spanning the last ten-ish years. You feature heavily in them all. Except recently, I…” he shakes his head. “Couldn’t look at you on paper like that, knowing you were slipping away from me.”

“Bear, how have I never known that you draw like this?” You press your hand to his chest. He grasps your wrist.

“You didn’t know that I loved you back then, either. Only two secrets I ever kept from you.”

“How long?”

“Have I drawn you?”

“Yeah.”

Steve holds your face between his palms like he’s still seeing double, but he appears at least a little more lucid than he was earlier. Or maybe, talking about you is something that comes so easily to him, he can do it with far too much morphine running through his body. Either way, he’s taken with the feeling of your skin under his thumbs.

“Never could get your cheeks right,” he murmurs. “But, um. When I was really little, I used to draw a girl. She was my age, and she was my imaginary friend. Every picture, I drew her. Same hair color every time. And then we moved, and I met you. And I dunno. Just made sense that I’d been drawing you all along, so. I got better at it once the girl wasn’t imaginary anymore.” He kisses the corner of your mouth. “I think Mr. Lee knew how I felt about you by junior year, considering my final portrait subject was you for the third year in a row,” Steve admits, cheeks immediately reddening.

“No,” you gasp behind your fingers. “You’re serious–”

“Buggy,” he laughs. “I thought for sure you were gonna catch me at it. Why do you think I never wanted you to come to the art show?”

“...I thought you were bad,” you admit, which elicits the biggest laugh you’ve heard from him in a long time. He has to lean on the wall to stay upright. “Don’t laugh!” You’re smiling, regardless. “The way you see me, bear… I don’t look like this!” You hold up the sketch and Steve takes the notebook from your hands gingerly.

“Of course not. That was teenage bugsy. But–hold on–I’m fine!” He stumbles from dizziness, but catches himself on the doorframe. He darts into the living room again, and this time you follow. He drops onto his knees as if he hasn’t injured both of them repeatedly since joining the firehouse, and peruses the bottom shelf of his bookcase until he finds what he’s searching for. Then, Steve grabs a smaller notebook, still black, with the current year stamped into the front. The one you gave him for Christmas last year. He flips frantically through the pages, and then holds it up.

“This is you.”

And it is, but it’s you through the eyes of a man who has been drawing you for so many years that he’s an expert on every little freckle and fine line in your skin, who looks at you and sees a future so precious that he’s willing to take three solid punches to the face for you. The portrait is you, yes, but it’s the most true version of who you are. Nobody knows you better than Steve, or sees you more clearly. Mirrors lie, by comparison. Your face is a decade older in this portrait, but you’ve never felt so beautiful.

The image blurs, and you hold a hand out to him, cupping the other over your mouth as the waterworks start. He crawls to you, reminding you that he’s still probably feeling the morphine, and hugs you with his cheek against your soft belly. 

“Wanna give you my grandma Elaine’s ring,” he says softly. “I wasted time making love to the idea of you on paper instead of getting brave and telling you, and I almost lost you.”

“How high are you?” You ask, though you feel the sincerity in your soul.

“Marry me.” It’s the first time he’s said it explicitly, even though he as good as asked that very question the night you decided to call things off with Brock. You had all but accepted, too. But it was a lot to decide while he was recovering from a beating and still fighting delirium, and the thought of even planning such a thing so soon made you wince.

You tug on his hair so he tilts his head back to meet your gaze. “Ask me again in the morning.”

“What will you say?”

You snicker, trying to swipe away your tears on your sleeve. “The sooner you go to sleep, the sooner you’ll find out.”

“But… my burritos.” He looks pitiful as he gestures to the plate which he had abandoned on the coffee table.

“Eat. I’m gonna go lay down.”

You take the journal with you into the bedroom you now share with Steve, and change into one of his t-shirts to sleep in. You wait for him to come in, all the while pondering the portrait he insists is who you really are, now. Next thing you’re aware of, the journal is being pulled out from under your fingers as you blink awake to the image of Steve Rogers with his cell phone hovering over your face, as he un-surreptitiously takes a photo of you glaring at him. He looks at the screen and frowns.

“Go back to sleep!” He whispers.

“Can you lay down please?” You yank on his elbow. He flops onto the covers beside you and tucks his good cheek against your shoulder. “You’re creepy,” you yawn. 

“But you’re so cute.” His voice is muffled.

“You’re going to be embarrassed in the morning.” Rolling onto your side, you adjust so both your arms cradle him cautiously, avoiding his poor swollen eyeball. 

“Why? You’re not ashamed of me, are ya?”

Your heart lurches and you kiss his forehead gently. “No. Of course not. I love you.”

“Even when I’m high?” Steve shakes with laughter when you groan.

“Yes, bear. Even then.”

—

In the morning, Steve is appropriately mortified, the more you tell him about his behavior on too much morphine, but at least he can open his eye again. He is so embarrassed, in fact, that he runs down the street to pick you up breakfast from a brunch place you like to make up for it, and forces you to remain in bed in order to eat it. When you’re both settled under the covers again, trading bites of fruit and french toast, you lean your head on his shoulder in contentment. Some of that time is spent inspecting his most recent portrait of you in the light of day, and marveling again at how he managed to capture the uncapturable.

“Hey,” he whispers, pointing at you with a slice of strawberry on the end of his fork. You look up at him in question and his lips graze yours. He deepens the kiss, sweetly kissing the powdered sugar from your lips. “Can I marry you?” He asks. You smile, nodding just once. Steve brushes your cheekbone. “Are you sure?”

“Only if you are.”

He kisses you with a nod himself, and then leans over to open his bedside table drawer. “I, um. I asked my ma for the ring a while ago. But if it doesn’t fit you, then we can find something else.”

“Okay.”

The reality of sharing breakfast and a bed, and sweet kisses with your best friend while he asks you if you’ll marry him settles over you like a warm blanket, and the sweetness intensifies when he produces an octagonal box. He rests the box on your knee and waits. 

“I should wash my hands,” you breathe. He rolls his eyes and tugs your left wrist into his lap. He thumbs the latch open.

“Do you remember meeting my grandma?” he asks.

You do, distinctly. She was a doe-eyed glamorous woman who had taken one look at you in the Rogers family living room at Christmastime and gushed over you. You smile. “She was so sweet,” you say.

“She loved you. I think she would’ve been so happy to see this on your finger, sweetheart. As I will be. May I?”

“Yeah.” Your heart races as he opens the lid, revealing the very ring he described to you one week prior, garnet and all. Elaine’s initials are ingrained in the band just as he said. And it slides right onto your finger so perfectly, it could have been made for you. 

He breathes out slowly. “Holy shit, bug,” he says in awe. You laugh.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. You’re gonna make every dream I ever had come true.”

“Awe.” You carefully set your takeout container on your bedside and then throw your knees over his legs so you can be as close to him as possible. He hugs you tight. When your fingers thread into his messy morning hair, he sighs. “You’re gonna make new dreams with me, bear.”

“I like the sound of that.” He rubs your back. You snuggle up to his chest and listen to his heart beating.

“Wonder what Brock brought,” you ponder out loud. 

Steve snorts. “Just a bunch of your clothes. And the mug I got you for your birthday.”

You sit back in surprise. “Oh! All that was worth punching you for?”

“Pssh. I bought that boot mug in the Dallas airport, when you were devastated I wasn’t gonna make it back for your birthday. It’s obviously very precious.”

“Thank god he returned it,” you snicker. “How ya feeling, slugger?” He allows you to gently palpate the area around his stitches, but he winces the closer you get to his cheekbone bruise.

“Fine… I called him while I was out.” He winces again at your shocked frown. “I know–”

“You didn’t let him off the hook.”

“No, no. I told him I’d send him my hospital bill.” Steve touches your chin. “And that I won’t press charges, as long as he takes your name off whatever bills you were on, and leaves you alone.” You blink at him. He laughs. “I know. I’m also surprised with myself.”

“I–he wouldn’t put anything under my name,” you say softly. “You’re gonna have to put me on your lease!”

“Would you like that? If there’s mail addressed to both of us?”

“Yeah. Bear?”

“Hmm?”

“I love you. Even when you’re high and loopy, and I still would even if you had let Brock off the hook.” You kiss his brow, just above his stitches. “I love that you’re kinda a creep–”

“Is this you practicing your vows, or…”

You doff his shoulder. “I just want you to know, okay?”

“I love you, bug.” 

Your shared kiss speaks deeply of the relationship from whence this arrangement was born, and the inevitability of spending your life with the one person who gives it meaning. There’s a new type of intimacy with it, even deeper than skin and touch. Deeper than the first night you spent with him, sharing bodies in a way that both of you had yearned for for so long that it felt sacred. 

Steve pulls back from you when air becomes a necessity. He inspects the ring on your finger with a peaceful smile, and then his gaze darts up to meet yours. He narrows his eyes.

“Did you buy me like twenty-five chicken burritos last night?” he asks incredulously. You laugh until your stomach hurts.

–

thanks for reading! :)

Kate’s masterlist - Marvel Masterlist

[meowcatsposts]

Headpats? [Drew]

✎⁾⁾⁾ note: @neonsquad303, I hope you enjoy :)

Overview

You love animals

They’re so cute oomph-

And what’s better, you have a bf who has a jackal head

Yet you’re too shy to ask him to pet him

But that’ll change, don’t worry :)

The sun gently colored your lengthening shadows, hands entwined, bodies walking side by side, close. Little zebra doves cuckooed softly, some waddling in pairs on the stubbly grass. Other bigger birds bobbled their heads and pranced around, following the occasional visitor for a morsel of food. As you followed the birds with your eyes, a small smile adorned your lips. 

Spotting a wooden bench nearby, Drew gently squeezed your hand as he walked you to it. 

“Oh…thanks,” you mumbled shyly, feeling a little embarrassed that you were caught ogling at some birds. 

“You’re most welcome, dearest,” Drew replied. Fingers still entwined, he placed your hand atop his thigh and mindlessly rubbed small circles on the back of it, humming to himself. You stared at the bandages wrapped around his fingers, a pleasant warmth creeping up your neck. 

Drew, noticing your gaze on the park birds, said out of the blue, “According to an article I read somewhere, birds that are in pairs are couples. They’re mates for life.”

Just like us.

“Really?” Leaning your head on his shoulder, you eyed a pair of zebra doves who were constantly waddling together; after one took off, the other followed suit. “That’s…cute.”

“Mmm…yes,” Drew hummed.

It was moments like these, serene yet intimate, that put your mind at ease. No nervous smiles in front of strangers. No formal greetings and goodbyes. No one to level with. You stole a glance at Drew, locking eyes for a brief moment. His eyes narrowed into sweet amethyst slivers and they sucked you in, eliciting a flustered squeak from you. 

“Are we embarrassed, perhaps?” he teased gently.

Unable to hide the growing smile and the hotness rising to your cheeks, you buried your face into Drew’s shoulder, evoking an amused chuckle from your lover.

After boring yourself of park birds, your gaze landed on Drew. Ever since day one, you wondered if his fur felt like a dog’s, or if he liked headpats, or if he could actually hear your heartbeat keenly. You kept your mouth shut, however, as you didn’t want to seem childish to your prim and proper boyfriend. 

From the corner of his eye Drew noticed the curious gaze you gave him, and asked, “Is there something on your mind?” 

He still hadn’t let go of your hand, keeping it warm on his leg. Your tongue swelled, rigid in your throat. He’d caught you looking for the second time.

Drew, being the proper gentleman he is, wouldn’t like to play around, would he? Gentle and caring he was, treating you with the utmost care in the world, like a gem. So you simply settled with staring at the smooth fur adorning his jackal head, imagining how pleasant it’d be to run your fingers through it. Your eyes quickly darted to his sun-contoured black fur, to the shiny rim of his spectacle, then to the curious purple eyes of his.

Finally, after mustering up the courage you could, you asked softly, “Can I pet your head?”

Drew, albeit having excellent hearing, wanted to confirm for his own amusement. “Come again?” he asked, ears twitching.

You chewed the inside of your cheek. Perhaps your fears were true. Perhaps your boyfriend hated getting headpats. Perhaps your timid request fell on deaf ears. Color drained from and bloomed on your cheeks all at once, and you fought the urge to slap your hands on your face. 

“Can I…pet your head…?” you asked once more, deathly unsure this time. 

Drew, finally smiling, replied, “Of course.”

“...Really?”

“How could I say no?” Drew chuckled at the nervous smile adorning your lips. 

Like how an excited child would reach out to a puppy, you slowly took your boyfriend’s head into your hands. Smooth, shiny black fur. The fluff around his ears. The soft ridges of his brows and jaw. It was enough to send you into pure bliss. You played around with the texture, stroking fur this way and that, but at the same time making sure to smoothen the poofs before thumbing another area.

“Oh, I’ve been waiting for this moment.” Drew nestled his head between your palms, throat thrumming faintly. 

Giggling you asked, “So…you like headpats?”

“I love headpats,” Drew confirmed. Then he added softly, loud enough for only you to hear, “Especially if they’re from you, dearest.”

[i-cant-sing]

Hello I was wondering if we can get a part 2 the platonic surgeon dabi after reader arrives home and wondering why they're parents are being arrested or while they are still in dabi's office what was those little purple gummies are(melatonin gummies)

Platonic Yandere Surgeon Dabi pt 2

You folded the blanket neatly, completing making up the hospital bed. It was your last day here, you were gonna be discharged. And although Dr Dabi was insistent on keeping you for longer than 3 days, you were just as stubborn, promising you'd return to be more pain in his ass.

"Here are your things!" The nurse handed you the little belonging you'd brought along. Even though Dr Dabi had made sure that the entire hospital staff knew to treat you like a V.V.I.P patient, you had already charmed most of them on your own. I mean, there's no such thing as a perfect patient, but god did you come close to it. Always saying thank you, apologising when you'd need their help with basic things, cooperating with them when they'd change your IVs and bandages.

"Are you sure you don't need a wheelchair, sweetie?" The nurse asked once more, bringing the wheelchair inside your room again.

You smiled and shook your head. "No, thank you-"

"I don't remember telling you to give Miss Y/n the choice, Nurse Sophie." Dabi said, walking in with an irritated look on his face, his eye bags making him look angrier than usual.

The poor nurse stammered. "I- I just-" but Dabi didn't bother listening to her explanation, snatching the wheelchair from her and bring it to you.

"Sit."

You crossed your arms. "No. I'm fine walking on my own."

"Your stitches haven't healed yet, your ribs are still bruised. I don't need you getting another internal bleeding or passing out in my hospital."

"But I'm fine-"

"You either leave in the wheelchair, or you don't leave at all. I won't sign your discharge papers." Dabi said with a serious face, waiting for you to challenge him.

The nurse could only look between you two, sensing the tension, wondering who'd relent.

It was you.

"Ugh fine!" You said, plopping yourself in the chair. "You just want to embarrass me every chance you get, don't you?"

Dabi rolled his eyes and smiled. "Yeah, that's the big plan." He rolled you out of your room and down to the exit.

-

-

"Why are we in the parking?" You don't remember owning a car or bringing your bicycle.

"I'm driving you home."

"Why? I could just get a cab."

"I don't trust you or the cab. You'd probably hop out of it to save money."

"Hey! I'm not that poor!" You huffed. "Besides, I'd call a friend to pick me up."

Dabi wheeled you towards his BMW. "Look, I'll sleep better knowing you got home safe."

You sighed. "Fine, but you're gonna get some morphine."

"No."

"Acne cream? I'd make a couple of bucks selling that to kids at school."

Dabi face palmed. "Fine, whatever."

-

-

"What the fuck?" You hopped out of the car as soon as your house came into view. Why were there cop cars outside of your house?

"Y/n, stop-!" Dabi called from behind, but you ran ahead, finally stopping when the cops prevented you from going any further.

"That's my house! What's going on here?!"

One of the lead investigators walked ahead. "Are you miss Y/n L/n?"

"I- yes."

"Ma'am, we've received a report about child neglect and abuse-"

"T-thats not true!" You said, trying to come up with an excuse. "Who even gave you that report?!"

"Anonymous tip. But between you and me kid, it's probably a relative or one of your neighbours." The cop said, before looking back at the house. Just then your parents were being dragged out of the house. Your alcoholic father had was being pulled by 2 cops as he yelled obscenities at them, while your mother quietly wept as a cop lead her towards the police car.

"Mom!" You slipped past the cops and towards your mother, who cried when she saw you.

"Y/n! You're alive! I- I thought he'd killed you-"

"Mom! Shh! Don't say a word to the police! Not without a lawyer! I'll get you out of there!" You promised her. Your mother wasnt a bad person, she just never was able to defend you from your father.

You looked at your father, who'd now somehow managed to get away from the cops and made a run for you, tackling you to the ground. He began choking you.

"You bitch! This is all your fault!" He was close to crushing your windpipe, but the cops pulled him off you.

You could only cry as you watched them taken away. Dabi walked over to you, taking off his jacket and putting it around you, before pulling you up.

"Y/n? Are you okay?" He asked, but you only wept. What the fuck are you supposed to do now.

The lead investigator walked over to you. "Listen kid, your parents are gonna spend the night at the station where they're gonna be interrogated. You probably won't see them until they get a court date. You got somewhere to stay there until then?"

You stopped crying and nodded. "Yeah, I'll stay at my aunts."

"Need me to drive you?"

"I'll take her." Dabi told the cop, who only took his card before leaving.

-

-

You remained silent as Dabi drove you towards the address you'd gave him. But the location he'd came to, it was an abandoned house.

"Thanks for the ride." You said, about to leave the car but Dabi pulled you back in.

"There is no aunt, is there?"

"No." You didn't have it in you to lie anymore. "But I've spent a lot of nights at this abandoned house many times. I'll be fine."

"Are you out of your mind? Do you know the type of people that could get in there and what they'd do to you?"

"I'll be fine-"

"No, you won't." He began turning the car. around. "I'm taking you to my place-"

You slammed your hands on the dashboard. "I SAID I'LL BE FINE!" You yelled, before finally breaking down.

Dabi unbuckled himself and pulled you into a hug. "Shhh, come on. I'm sorry, okay? I just- I can't leave you here. If something happened to you, I'd- I'd never forgive myself."

"Why... do you care?" You whispered.

Dabi shrugged. "Dont you know it by now? You're my favourite pain in the ass." You chuckled.

"Still, I can't go to your house. I just- I cant, okay? It's weird, and you've already done enough for me."

Dabi sighed. "Alright. How about I take you back to the hospital then? You could stay in my office, crash on the couch for the night?"

You nodded. Dabi began driving back towards the hospital, and halfway through the drive, he saw you on browsing on your phone.

"What are you looking for?"

"Lawyers."

"Why?"

"To get my mom out."

Dabi didn't say anything after that, preferring to remain silent instead of pointing out that she deserves to be in jail. You're enough wounded emotionally as it is.

-

-

Dabi had gone to bring you a pillow and a blanket. His office was pretty big and minimilast interior, and it didn't look like he brought in a lot of people in here.

You honestly don't know how to thank him. He's gone above and beyond to help you, and not just tonight. Your medical bills that he always waived off, saying the hospital pays for them because they have a programme that takes cases on like yours. But deep down, you knew it was his pocket all your bills were being paid for.

"Y/n." You looked over to the door where Dabi stood, along with a man in a fine suit. "This is my boyfriend, Keigo Takami."

You stood up and shook his hand. "Its very nice to meet you."

"Likewise, kid." The blonde smiled.

"Y/n, he's a lawyer." Oh no. "Before you say no, at least tell him the whole story, maybe he can just consult you or refer you to a suitable lawyer."

You closed your eyes and thought for a bit. That's the thing, isn't it? Dr Dabi, he's always willing to help you, and that's why you can't turn him down when he offers more help because it feels... rude.

"Okay."

-

-

After 30 minutes, you'd told everything to Keigo. You'd explained that your father was an alcoholic and that's why he beat up often. Your mother got beat up by him too, but she was far too in love with him to ever stand up against him. Over time, it took a toll on her mentally and thus she never had it in her to leave your father. You'd grown up used to it, and you only had a year if school left before you left for college and you would take your mother with you.

"I see." Keigo nodded. "Can I be honest with you?"

"Yes."

"Chances of your parents getting out of jail are not good. Especially, since the police actually saw your father attack you."

"I don't care about my father. I need to get my mother out. She's not the abuser here, she's the victim!"

"She might be, but still, the prosecution will charge her with child neglect. And when they present it to the jury, no matter how much the lawyers say that your mother was the victim here, they'll pin it that she's mentally ill, thus unfit to become a mother. And then you'll be sent to foster care." Keigo said, watching the colour drain out of your face.

"But- but- if she gets a good lawyer, we might have a fighting chance! I'll- I'll even testify!"

"Your parents can't afford a good lawyer, hun. And the lawyer the state will give them, don't give a rats ass about cases like these." He said, his face solemn as you began tearing up. Keigo never liked being the bearer of bad news, but the truth always hurts.

You sniffled. "What... what can I do?"

"In my experience, the judge usually rules in the favour of the prosecuters. But... if you allow me to represent your mother, I might be able to help." Keigo said, before pulling out his card and handing it to you. "I have a firm, so I'll have enough resources to help your mom out. So, what's your decision?"

Your mouth was agape in surprise. You looked at Keigo, and then at Dabi who was leaving against the wall with his hands shoved in his pockets, a lazy smile on his face.

"I- I can't." You looked down. "Thank you for everything you've done so far, but I can't accept this." You stood up and began walking towards the door. There's a limit to someone's kindness, and you do not want to take anymore than you already have.

"You might never see your mother again, Y/n." Those words, those goddamn words stopped you dead in your tracks. Dabi and Keigo watched as your shoulders began to tremble, and Keigo nodded at Dabi, who pulled you back inside, letting you cry into his shoulder.

Keigo sighed, pouring you a glass of water. "I know my words are harsh, but I need to give wakeup calls to my clients. If you really do want to save your mother, I'm the best shot you've got."

"I know you don't like accepting help, but you need to put your pride aside for this one, Y/n." Dabi said, pushing the glass to your lips. You calmed down and nodded.

"Fine, but- but I need you to write down your fees for this case right now." You gave him his card back, flipping it over so he'd write a number.

Keigo shook his head. "My firm does pro bonos-"

"No, Im not accepting charity. You're either gonna write me a number or I'll look for another lawyer." You said, lips pursed and determined look in your eyes. You won't relent.

Keigo and Dabi shared a look. Keigo sighed and pulled out his pen from his coat pocket, and wrote down a figure. From the number of zeroes in it, you knew it was a real fee, albeit a discounted one.

"You can pay this amount whenever you want, but I have 1 condition." You looked at him. "Until your mother is out, you're gonna live with us."

"No-"

"That's non negotiable. Take it or leave it." Keigo said, crossing his legs and looking at you with a serious face. He was not going to compromise on this. You looked at Dabi for help, but he shook his head. "Come on, it'll be good for all of us. I won't have to worry about you hurting yourself and Keigo can be in constant contact with you about your mother's case."

You thought about it, before nodding. "Okay, but you're gonna treat my mom like a real client, right? Draw up the paper work and stuff, and you'll put this fee in it too."

Keigo smiled. "Of course, and I'll put in my condition in as well. You're gonna sign it tomorrow, okay?"

"Okay."

"Good. Now that it's settled-" Keigo yawned and stretched his arms. "-let's go home! I'm tired as hell, Dabi!"

Dabi rolled his eyes and began pulling you out of the room. "You stayed home all day. How are you tired?"

"ZOOM MERTINGS TAKE A TOLL ON ME TOO, DABI!"

You laughed as the duo continued to bicker, and it was a sound that you fell asleep to in their car. Dabi and Keigo hushed when they saw your peaceful face, and they both shared a look before grinning like Cheshire cats.

Keigo was the one who tipped off the cops about your parents, and he was buddies with the lead investigator, which is why he told them to let go of your father and attack you, so that everyone had witnessed that. He did all this to please Dabi, and now that he'd met you, he saw why Dabi wanted to adopt you.

And tomorrow, you're gonna sign the document that makes you theirs forever. After all, you did agree to stay with them until your mother comes out of jail.

Now Keigo has just gotta make sure that she never does.

The devil is in the details.

[fandomhopping]

Ninjago one shot no one asked for

———————

The gash wound definitely would leave a scar but kai had other things to deal with. Zane was dented, Lloyd got a cut across her shoulder, etc. that needed fixed first!

After the major injuries were dealt with kai rushed to the bathroom pulling out his phone on how to treat a gash wound, clicking on a shady website… 

“Hydrogen peroxide…” he read aloud searching for the mystery medicine. After locating the liquid he took a towel, poured the medicine on it and aggressively scrubbed at the bleeding scratch… careful not to let out several different yelps of pain as the cold hit his injury.

After a scrub session that was probably done incorrectly, the red ninja poorly wrapped some loose bandages around his forearm and hid it underneath his gi.

As the ninja settled into their pj’s something odd was happening with their hot-headed brother…

“Kai, why are you wearing long sleeves to bed?” The spiky haired boy looked at the earth ninja like a deer in headlights.

“I’m- um, well…. Cold?” He stuttered out Cole knew this was bullshit so he confronted him on the matter.

“Number one: you’re the fire ninja, your body heat is naturally higher than normal. Number two: you’re wearing shorts.” He pointed out raising an eyebrow in a suspicious manner,

“My legs get covered up by blankets! And even the fire ninja can get cold!” Kai retorted climbing into bed, laying on his injured arm wincing ever so slightly.

Cole shrugged.

“Whatever you say, kai.”

-

Kai woke up the next day in a frenzy because A. His arm felt like it had sown the night in a volcano. B. Said injury was now a purplish color. The red ninja gingerly but frantically pulled out his phone googling:

‘Should the gash in my arm be purple?’ Turns out No! It should not! He winced as he laid on the injured arm for too long. Kai rushed to change his bandages and took an Advil…hopefully it would help.

“Yo Kai! Cmere!” He heard Cole shout from the other room, rolling his eyes the fire ninja left to answer his brethren’s call. 

As kai entered the kitchen he saw his previous leader Cole sitting against the bar, as the brunette set his phone down he walked to the black ninja, 

“Hey, what do you want for breakfast? It’s my day to cook.” The simple sentence made Kai grimace… Cole was cooking?

“Don’t give me that look! I can cook just fine!” He pouted. 

“In fact-“ the ninja walked over to where Kai had set his phone down… no…no! 

“I’m gonna look through your search history as pun…ish…ment…” the fire ninja watched as the color left cole’s face after looking through recent searches. He looked up meeting Kai’s eyes before shouting at the top of his lungs

“CODE RED!”

Instantly everyone was there surrounding the red ninja like a pack of vultures… 

“Kai just tell us what’s wrong, okay?” Nya attempted, while he was distracted by nya cole grabbed the brunettes wrist and yanked the sleeve covering it. Revealing very poorly bandaged bloody wounds, audible gasps filled the room… kai had to get out of there, now. 

“Hey Cole is that your dad?” He frantically asked. Cole turned, loosening his grip just enough for Kai to squirrel away to the lookout tower of the bounty hiding from everyone.

“UGH why do I ALWAYS fall for that!?”

“Because your father put too much pressure on you as a child there for leading to-“

“Zane, if I want a trauma lecture I’ll let you know.”

The non droid huffed muttering about not getting paid enough while the group hurried to the deck.

“Where is he?” Jay asked,

“He is on the lookout tower.” An irritated robot replied

“How do you know?”

3 different people gave the lightning ninja looks that spoke more than words ever could.

“Right robot algorithms…” 

Cole began climbing until finally he reached the top with a huff. Seeing immediately a frightened kai back up clutching his injured arm.

“Kai, can you let me have a look at it?” He asked gently.

“No. It’s completely fine! I don’t need help!” The black ninja sighed.

“Plus maybe you should check Lloyd out instead? He got a nasty gash above his head!”

“Lloyd was taken care of and is resting.” Cole reasoned

“What about Zane? He had some dents in him…”

“Already fixed by nya.”

“Speaking of Nya she had a pretty bad-“

“Kai let me see your injury please.” Cole was absolutely dumbfounded by how much resistance kai was putting up!

Eventually kai let him take a look at the now purple arm, (yeesh this needed fixed like yesterday!) and he for the moment fixed the bandages at the minimum.

“Sorry to burden you…” it was a quiet remark but the earth ninja heard it.

“Kai…” he sighed “you’re not a burden! Never have been! I know you like doing stuff solo but things like this are unhealthy!” 

The fire ninja lowered his head almost as if in shame, Cole merely put a hand on his shoulder,

“You’ve done things by yourself your whole life… but now you have family! Let us help you for a change!” 

Kai could only nod hopefully and quietly.

————

[dreamdragoness]

As the ailing King of Hearts lay in bed, relaxing to the comforting sound of his maid's lullaby, he drifted off to sleep. As he did, he recalled a memory of something similar happening when he was a boy.

When he was about nine, he and his mother took an entourage to the edge of the Hearts Kingdom. At the edge where the four kingdoms converged and that ever-present fog loomed over the center. They were there to check on the villages and border patrols as Spades' was acting suspiciously. It was nothing new and it gave them a chance to get out of the capital as long as they had their disguises up. Though the only disguise Wally preferred was having his hair down and magically dyed blue. But Wally, being the child that he was, wandered off one day. He couldn't remember why nowadays. All he did know was that he ended up lost in the forest and after wandering around to try and find a way back, he tripped and fell down a ravine. A sharp pain struck his right eye before he lost consciousness. The next thing he knew, he was lying under a blanket next to a campfire. A pile of leaves acted as a pillow and he could tell that he had some bandages wrapped around his head and eye.

That was when he met her. "Flower, gleam and glow, Let your power shine, Make the clock reverse, Bring back what once was mine~ "Heal what has been hurt Change the fates' design Save what has been lost, Bring back what once was mine~ "What once was mine~" Singing this strange, yet soothing, song was a girl around his age. Though it was night out, the glow at her throat and the campfire illuminated her curly red hair. He recalled how soft it looked. The girl looked like a noble, but he didn't recognize her from any of the socials his mother hosted. She was dressed in a lavender dress in an unfamiliar style and covering her face was a white bird-like mask with some sort of flower carving at the bridge. The mask was painted with small shapes of purple, red, blue, green, and yellow.

He thought she looked as pretty as a fairy. The "fairy," as he would later call her, saw that he was awake and checked on his injuries. She told him that she and her father had found him in the ravine and that she was taking care of him while her father searched for the prince's family. The prince once again felt soothed by the sound of the fairy's voice as she spoke to him. He was still wary and did not give him his name. And when he asked for hers, she avoided it and asked him what he would like to call her. When he softly responded "Fairy," she giggled. Saying that in a way, it suited her. The fairy stayed by his side, talking small talk to make him comfortable. She dodged the questions about where she came from and who she was, stating that he was also dodging those same questions from her. After a while, Wally did become comfortable enough to ask if she would sing more. The girl happily complied, singing the lullaby from before and other songs that, according to her, were taught to her by her mother. It was those songs that made the prince feel enchanted by her voice. He listened on as he drifted off to sleep. When he awoke, he was in his mother's arms and on their way back to the castle. Queen Ambrosia told her that the prince was really lucky that the girl and her father had found him and treated him. Especially once she revealed that the pair could possibly be from the Joker Kingdom as they wore masks and that Wally's eye was saved from becoming permanently blind. The boy wanted to see the girl again and realized that he had something in his hands: the girl's mask. To this day, Wally kept the mask in a space where he hid all of his personal treasures. While it was never proven if the fairy and her father were Jokers, the fact that Wally had searched every kingdom for a girl fitting the same description and found nothing made him believe what his mother said was true. Now he had a secret wish to find the Joker Kingdom like his ancestors before him. Not only to fulfill a family dream since the end of the Great War, but to find that fairy girl once more. And yet, the fact that Miss Flannigan had reminded him of that girl made him question her origin even more.

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

An idea I had for "Wildcard." A little while after Stacy becomes Wally's personal maid, he becomes sick with a very bad cold and a high fever. While he was assured by the doctors that he was going to be fine with plenty of rest, his friends would come to check on him every now and then. One night, he has a nightmare about his mother's assassination, causing Stacy, who was nearby, to enter his chambers and tend to him.

Feeling sorry for him and haunted by the memories of her mother's death by illness, Stacy takes it upon herself to work harder to get Wally to feel better. She sings some lullabies in the hopes of getting the king to fall asleep. It works, but it brings forth a memory of his past. A memory that makes him even more curious about his new maid.

Not going to lie. This piece was inspired by young Rapunzel in the Tangled TV show singing to heal Pascal. I felt I had to include the song.

As for her voice, the Joker Kingdom has an abundance of magic and some Jokers gain certain abilities from it. As a Flannigan, Stacy has multiple talents (Flannigans are Jacks of All Trades), but at the age she was in the piece, she had developed a healing power that was powered by song. Specifically something soft like a lullaby. However, there is always a price for these gifts. If the Joker uses their gift outside their kingdom too many times past their limit, they could fall ill. That is because their bodies are like cell phones. If used too long or too much, they get drained.

Welcome Home: Party Coffin Royalty AU: @neonross

Stacy and the Joker Kingdom: Me Tangled: Disney

[thegirlwiththeninjaturtletattoos]

Every Rose Has it's Thorn

-Part 6-

>Part 7

&lt; Part 5

Universe: Teenage Mutant Teenage Turtles (Bayverse aged-up turtles)

Rating: R (swearing)

Raphael x OC (female character)

Tags: trigger warning mentions bruises and injuries, Fluff, Donnie being adorable, original character, slow burn romance

-Rose and Donnie chat about the serum and life, and after she goes to her apartment she comes face to face with the pain she's been avoiding.

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

As she got dressed, she admitted to herself that she really needed a change of clothes, which meant going back to her apartment. Great. She looked in the mirror on Raph’s dresser and almost yelped at the state her hair was in. Curls sticking up everywhere, tangles galore, yikes. Her makeup had all worn off too, leaving a black smudge under her eyes. God she was a sight. 

Opening the door, she saw Donnie waiting for her on the couch- but she had to shower. Like, had to. She was approaching skunk-smell zone. She started towards the bathroom.

“Donnie, I’ll be with ya in just a minute,”she called to the lean turtle. “I really need to shower first, ok?” 

Rose didn’t wait for his response as she closed the door to the shared bathroom, locking it behind her. She didn’t hear any noise and knew she was alone, and glad for the peace. As she undressed, she thought how chaotic the lair must’ve been when the turtles were younger. They were probably a bunch of shits, she thought to herself. I’m sure Splinter had his hands, or paws she guessed, full. As she was lost in thought, the sight of the bandages on her ribs tore her from her inner monologue. 

The bruises were bad. There were purple and red boot marks all over her torso, but her rib cage was the worst. She lifted the bandages off, confident the bleeding had stopped. She gasped at the sight of her injuries, the stitches on her lower left rib sticking out of her skin and very visible. Donnie had done a great job, but shit it still looked rough. There would definitely be a scar, she thought. She was still in pain, but years of practice and a hard life had taught her to ignore the sharp feeling in her side. Rose started the water, and continued to look at herself in the mirror. 

Her mind wandered back to high school, when her classmates called her fat and made fun of how big her butt was. Looking at her reflection now, she wondered why she ever let them get to her. She was down right sexy, her wide hips and full breasts created a silhouette that people would kill for. She had started lifting weights seriously in the last two years, which had given her booty a nice lift, and really toned up her core and arms too. She looked like a Greek statue, both strength and beauty on full display, and she loved it. 

—---

Once she was finished and dressed from the shower, and with the help of some body spray from Raph’s shelf in the bathroom to hide the funk of her clothes, she sat down next to Donnie on the couch to listen to what he had to say. 

“So I think the serum is finished, but I do need to run one more test. I am slightly concerned about any after effects you might experience from our mutagen, but overall I think our odds are still about an 82% success rate.” He said, pushing up his glasses a little as they slid down his face. “It should be ready by this evening.” 

“Thank you so much, Donnie. You’ve been working so hard, and I really appreciate it.” Rose smiled at him. 

“Selfishly, I’ve enjoyed working on it as well. It gave me an excuse to run tests and explore data I’ve collected that I’ve not had a chance to use.”Donnie fidgeted with the purple wrapping on his left arm. “If I’m right, and this serum helps your body heal faster, I could be on the brink of a scientific discovery that Sacks was looking for when he captured us.”

She nodded her head. 

“That’s amazing Don. I’ll help out any way I can.” 

Rose put a hand on Donatello’s shoulder and gave a light squeeze. She glanced up to Master Splinter’s room, noticing the door still shut. Raph was still up there, and she winced at the thought he was taking the punishment for something she did. 

“Can I ask you something, Donnie?” 

The turtle turned to face her on the couch, and as if reading her mind answered before she could finish her thought. 

“Sensei wasn’t upset with you or Raph about the whole bedroom thing, if that’s what you’re wondering.”He said blatantly. Donnie reminded Rose of her mom, speaking plain and stating facts over being tactful with feelings. She smiled as he continued. “Raph disobeyed orders when he took you to the roof, and Leo was pretty upset. There’s always drama between them about leadership and following orders, but it usually blows over really quick. Raph and Leo are sparring privately in Sensei’s dojo right now. They just need to work it out alone.”

Donnie gestured over to the room across from the gym.

“That’s our dojo space that we use for everyday training. The one upstairs is more, um,  ceremonial.”

“Thanks, Don. You’re the best.” 

She gave the purple masked turtle a hug, grateful that he knew exactly what was troubling her so she didn’t have to admit out loud that she was worried for Raphael. She could feel herself falling in love with the big brute, and admitting her concern was a little more than she could take right now. It was all moving so fast. 

I mean, we almost fucking kissed this morning. I’ve known him for literally one day.

Donnie interrupted her thoughts with more cold, hard logic. 

“So, I don’t know how to put this nicely but, you stink.”

“Thanks, Don. Real nice.”She laughed. 

Yup, just like Mom. 

“Yeah, you’re right. My clothes are super dirty.”She agreed. “Is anyone around to help me to my apartment for a change of clothes and some other stuff? I know you’re busy and,” she gestured upstairs with her head. “Those two are occupied at the moment.”

“Yeah, Mike is around. He’s probably in the skate room.”

Donnie walked her over to where the sound of wheels rolling and rap music poured out into the hall. God, there were so many rooms in this place, she could definitely get lost easily on her own. As Donnie walked back to his lab, Rose entered the skate room, which looked like Mikey’s personality threw up everywhere. There was no wall that wasn’t graffitied, covered in posters, or lined with speakers, and it was so bright and well, Mikey. He was so much like her brother it hurt.

Mikey quickly noticed her and despite being mid-air, he flipped off his board and leapt down in front of Rose. 

“Sup girl?” He said, trying to act as slick as possible. “What can the Mikester do for ya?”

He had the biggest, goofiest grin on his face and she was beside herself. She already loved him like he was her own brother, and she just wanted to smother him in sisterly affection. Smiling, she spoke.

“I need a favor Mike. You up for a road trip?” 

“Um, hells yea girl. Do you even need to ask?”

He grinned, shutting off his music and slipping his board back on his shell. 

“Where to?”

“Well, I need to head back to my apartment to get some things, but I have to be sneaky about it. It’s complicated, but I have to get in- get out, kay?” She hoped he wouldn’t ask too many more questions, and she got her wish. 

“Aight, lezz go!”

With that they headed back to the main room, grabbed her stuff, and headed out of the lair. 

—-

Dusk had started to fall outside. She was beginning to lose track of time down in the sewers, as the turtles were on an awake-all-night schedule and there were no windows. She preferred it actually, she had always been a night owl. 

They had made it to the rooftop across from her apartment, and she couldn’t see any lights on. Her ex’s schedule was always erratic, but she hoped that no one was home. She didn’t want to face him, especially not with a mutant turtle in tow. 

“So what are we doin here, chica? 

Mike asked, and she realized she still hadn’t explained the situation. 

“Well, my ex and I broke up yesterday right before the bar..incident..” She paused, not wanting to call it what it was, an attack. “And I need to get some clothes and stuff but I don’t want to see him. Cool?”

Mikey nodded, and gestured for Rose to grab onto him. She put her arm around his neck, a much easier task with the orange ninja than with his older brother. Mikey was the smallest of the four, but still was more muscular than the average human. He lifted her up with one arm with ease, and took his board off of his back. Before she could protest, he said “Hold on babes!” and jumped off the roof. 

The board flew them across the gap between buildings easily, and they landed on her fire escape quickly. Kneeling, but wincing from the  pain in the movement, she shimmied her window up. She had never felt the need to lock it, being that they lived on the 10th floor and no one was determined enough to climb that far up a fire escape for a robbery. Mikey and Rose stepped into the dark room quickly, listening for signs of movement. When they heard none, she turned the lights on and grabbed a bag out of the closet. She looked over to the bed and sighed. They had built a life together here, and it was all just being thrown away. All the memories, laughter, and experiences. Just garbage in the dumpster. She felt a bit like Woody in Toy Story 2, when he’s in the trash can looking up at Andy. She could clearly hear the dialogue in her head, until Mike’s movement caught her eye. 

“Hey, there’s a letter here for ya.” 

Mikey handed over a sheet of paper he found on her pillowcase. 

Rose, 

Take care of yourself. 

With love always, 

Nick

She cried. She didn’t know what else to do. Their whole relationship, cut down to a short note and moving boxes. It was all too much to deal with. 

Mikey grabbed her hand and just stood there with her while she cried like a child, still hoping that this was just a dream. She knew it wasn’t, but she would give anything to not feel this pain. 

After a few minutes, she squeezed the turtle’s hand back, and turned to face him. 

“Thanks, Mikey. Really. Now, let’s hurry so we can get out of here, ok?”

He nodded and moved out of her way so she could do what she needed. 

Rose grabbed a bag out of her closet and started packing for a week away. That would at least cover her if she wanted to stay a little longer. She packed her toiletries quickly, thankful to be able to brush her teeth finally. Then she turned to Mike.

“Hey, can you turn around? I need to change.” She laughed as he blushed, quickly turning to face the window. 

As she changed clothes, Mikey started asking questions. 

“So most people have jobs, right?”

“Yep.”

“So what’s your job? Like I know you said you were self employed or whatever, but like what do you do?”

She chuckled. He was the most inquisitive of the four, and she loved that child-like spark in him. 

“I’m a singer, Mikey. I gig around town with a few different bands, and I do some studio work occasionally. We didn’t have any gigs scheduled this week so my schedule is pretty open.” She responded, pulling her clean shirt over her torso gingerly. “You’re good to turn around now. All done.” Rose had chosen a pair of black biker shorts and another oversized graphic tee. The lair was way too warm for pants. 

“Girl, that is so freakin’ cool!” He almost yelled with how excited he was. She could tell that he longed for that life, and that he treasured the spotlight. He was an attention-whore, but in the best way. 

She laughed, enjoying his enthusiasm. 

“Thanks, Mike.” Turning the light off and moving towards the door, she punched his arm. “You ready, dude?”

“You know it!”