#getting captured too like on accident or because he stepped in to help her because he's a good boy and she'd feel responsible and augh 😩

[aberooski]

Writing an au of Chazz, Atty, and Lex getting sucked into the Mushroom Kingdom was a joke, but the idea of Peach and Chazz becoming unlikely besties hanging out in the dungeon in Bowser's castle is so funny and cute please stop me before I actually do it I have too much to work on right now as it is please 😭

[pholla-jm]

Welcome Home

IMAGINE: WELCOME HOME ~ NANAMI X F!READER GENRE: ANGST/FLUFF cw: shibuya spoilers. mention of death. f!reader. uses of (y/n). she/her pronouns used. non-proof read. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

When his eyes opened, he was a bit confused to find himself on the beach. He wondered how he got here. He doesn’t exactly remember his trip to the beach. 

The last thing he remembered was Shibuya station… oh right… 

Nanami sighs, a slight frown on his face as he looks down at his bare feet. 

The sand felt warm against his feet and he couldn’t help but let his muscles relax. Let everything in his body relax for once. He wasn’t exerting himself, he wasn’t stressed, and he didn’t have a heavy pressure in his head. 

The frown slowly started to ease on his face because he felt at peace, content at where he was now. 

The waves from the ocean wash over his feet, the sand below him shifting. It was paradise. 

Nanami turns his head, eyes catching a cottage that was a few meters away. 

The cottage was a one story, pale yellow house with a patio up front. There was a white picket fence wrapped around the front with luscious green plants that decorated the area. 

Some chairs with cushions littered the patio with lights hung above it. 

No one was around, none that he could see. So he took it upon himself to enter the cottage. 

The inside was clean, but still looked comfortable and lived in. With each step he took, the sound of his footsteps reverberated throughout the cottage. 

If this was the afterlife, he could get used to this. When he steps into the main living area, his eyes widen seeing someone sitting in a single chair next to the window. Their legs were pulled up and leaning to the side with a book in their hands. 

Upon hearing the footsteps, the person looked up and he couldn’t believe his eyes. 

“(y/n)?” 

She smiles when she hears his voice, “Kento.” She closes her book, and sets it to the side. Her attention now fully on him. She was having mixed feelings on him being here. She thought it was too early for him to be here, but she couldn’t do anything to change the fact. 

Tears started to well up in Nanami’s eyes. He couldn’t believe what he was seeing. He didn’t think he would ever see her again after her accident.

Nanami didn’t say anything. Instead, he takes large strides towards her as she stands up. 

Once she was within arms reach, he pulled her into his chest. His arms wrapped tightly around her, almost like he was afraid to let go of her. 

In reality, he wanted to make up for all the lost time together. All the missed mornings together, all the missed date nights, all the petty arguments, all the secret exchange of love words. But now… now it seems like he has all the time in the world. And he wasn’t going to miss a single second of it. 

Nanami pulls back a little, so he could get a better look at her face. She hasn’t aged since the accident, staying at the young age of twenty four. He still found her beautiful, even after all the years of not seeing her. 

“Is this heaven?” He asks. “Now it is.” (y/n) replies. 

Nanami grins at her words, leaning down to capture her lips with his own. Her lips were smooth against his. The kiss full of passion of love, the one that made (y/n) weak in her knees and her heart skip a beat. 

(y/n) pulls back with a love struck look on her face. She raises her hand, the palm of her cheek stroking the side of his cheek. 

“Welcome home, my love.”

[aziraphales-library]

I *love* any fics where Crowley is hurt incredibly bad and Aziraphale must save him or bring him back to health. I also LOVE fics that delve into trauma or mental health which stripes the characters of their mask and they must rely on someone/each other. Do you have any recommendations for fics that are either, or both? Happy endings are a major must for me, but I am open to any suggestions!

You'll want to check our #crowley whump, #hurt crowley, and #protective aziraphale tags for loads of fics like this. Here are some that may or may not have been recommended before, but mind the tags on all of these!...

Where's My Mind? by ebullience24 (T)

See, the thing is: Crowley is tall. His height had caused a few stares back in the days where the tallest man stood at five foot five. And, because of his height, one might be inclined to describe him as slender with spindly fingers and snake-hips. The pun is never intended on that last one but it stands true nonetheless. And Crowley would be likely to agree with these statements: he is tall and slender and spindly and snake-hipped. But what Crowley would be less likely to agree upon is the statement that he, Anthony J Crowley, is underweight. OR: Crowley has an eating disorder. Trigger Warnings now and at the beginning of each chapter.

Safe Haven by McRaider (T)

When Anthony Crowley stepped back into Aziraphale's life for the first time after eight long years missing, it became exceedingly clear with him came a world of trouble and heartache. But Aziraphale never could say no to his beloved Crowley. Can he help Crowley heal after a failed marriage, a gas-lighting ex-wife with an evil plan?

To Speak the Unspoken by ihamtmus (T)

“Uhhhh… Hi,” Crowley started lamely, scrambling to find a way to explain the situation as quickly as possible. His mind was refusing to work properly, thoughts slow as if doused in oil. He hadn’t really thought about what to say on his way here – he’d been too busy focusing on the getting here part before he would collapse. “I was wondering if I could… If I could maybe die in here, if you don’t mind..?” The expression on Aziraphale’s face changed abruptly, telling him that the angel did, in fact, mind. (In which a mortally wounded demon just wants to get somewhere quiet to die but his Adversary will have none of it. A story of how they both learn just how much they care.)

Death in Love by Aspirina_Effervescente & Cyanidechan (M)

After tempting a composer to fame and success, Crowley is cursed by his wife and tormented by her ghost until the end of his days. Aziraphale would do anything to save him, the only problem is that he doesn't know what's going on and, anyway, the problem could be much more complicated than it seems. Inspired by Giuseppe Tartini’s Sonata “the Devil’s trill”

Drops of Sorrow by EdosianOrchids901 (M)

Ten years after the failed Apocalypse, Crowley is captured by Heaven. Gabriel plans to use him as bait to lure Aziraphale into a fight. Can Crowley survive captivity, and will Aziraphale be able to rescue him without walking into the trap?

A Touch of Heaven by IneffableToreshi (E)

A despondent and defeated Crowley has been through the ringer, moreso even than his roommate, Newt, realizes. After a car accident puts him though a number of surgeries and a temporary - but terrifying - few weeks of blindness, the club owner wants nothing more than to curl up in his bed and refuse to move until things return to normal...or as normal as they'll ever be again. Newt - and his cafe-owning girlfriend, Anathema - have other plans. They think that Crowley just needs some care and pampering, so Anathema schedules him a special, off-hours appointment with a friend of hers who is a rather sought-after masseur. Crowley is hesitant and stubborn, but Aziraphale's soothing voice and comforting nature soon win him over, in more ways than one...

- Mod D

[hitoshiyoshi]

manly boys need love | kirishima eijiro

synopsis ↬ kirishima’s loving stepsister learns about his unnatural affections for her

warnings ↬ stepcest, non-con filming & picture taking, pwp, nipple-sucking, handj-b, you have a shitty step-dad, manipulation (?), slight nipple play, sub!kirishima, soft dom!reader, use of "baby boy" and "good boy", kiri doesn't act very manly, swearing

pairing ↬ pro-hero!aged up!kirishima x oldersis!afab!reader

word count ↬ 5.4k

The first time you noticed, you thought you were imagining things. It was only an innocent accident; knocking on his door one night to ask if he was hungry. You know, a pure-hearted gesture that older siblings did all the time. He didn't answer, but you could hear the faint sound of his voice through the wooden door. You're so pure, thinking he was speaking to someone on the phone. Until your name leaves his drooling lips, you freeze. Twisting the door open quietly, you peer through the small crack. Perhaps your mind began playing tricks on you, just someone else with your name, right? Many excuses were created that night because you didn't want to believe it was true. The opening was angled perfectly for you to see.

Saliva trickled down the corners of his mouth, his mind was lost in a haze. Mumbling incoherent curses as he focused his gaze on his red smartphone. A picture of you in a bikini from your family vacation out of the country displayed across his screen. You tried to pull your eyes away, thinking it was some random girl who resembled you. Even as you continued to watch him scroll through a catalog of photos, ranging from your exposed cleavage in a low cut shirt to more revealing clothing, you still believed it was all a lie.

His hands dipped inside the waistband of his shorts, releasing his girthy member from its cage. Wrapping his hand around the tip, he pumped around his length as expletives spewed from his mouth. Your palm clasped around your mouth to hold back your shock as you watched. Eijiro's precum leaked into his fist before he groaned and yearned for more. He briefly released his member as it protruded in the air. Spitting into his palm and fisting his cock, he wished it was you instead.

Eijiro heard you at his door that night, knocking before peering inside and gasping as you watched. He saw your shocked face from his peripheral vision, but of course you were too dumb to notice that. As his cum oozed into his fist and a final loud groan of your name echoed through the walls, you finally scurried off to your bedroom, trying to forget about the embarassing encounter.

The second time, you couldn't deny it anymore. Just as you managed to convince yourself that it was not you in those pictures, more signs emerged. You want to believe you're hallucinating when you notice a spikey-haired figure looming through the curtains as you showered. Perhaps your eyesight has been getting worse, you swear you see the flash of a camera light through an opening in your bedroom door while changing. Or when you heard shuffling inside your closet as you were knuckles deep inside your aching core after a stressful workday.

You wanted to tell your mother, surely she could give you a solution to this. That idea ended, however, when you noticed her gushing over her new step-son, pro-hero, Red Riot. Eijiro managed to capture the hearts of nearly every civilian in your town. Swooning the masses with his infectious smile and upbeat personality. To everyone, including your mother, he seemed like the perfect son. Always helping her around the house during his free-time, bringing her flowers and other expensive gifts, and making friendly conversations with the woman.

Going to his father, or your step-father, was completely out of the question. Watching the way he proudly displayed his son on a pedestal made you gag. Your step-father made very little attempts at building a relationship with you; a memory of him asking your mother to kick you out of their home replays in your mind. Would he believe you? You can imagine him accusing you of trying to ruin their family, although you were the daughter of his wife. Hearing your mother almost agree with her new husband, before quickly changing her mind, caused a sharp pain in your chest.

The few times you spoke with him, he was always condescending. Complaining about how you only took up space in their home and tarnished the name of their family by not becoming a pro-hero. Onlookers could easily tell that he preferred the company of his son over you. Initially, your mother seemed disturbed by his words. Yet, only after a few months, they began to share the same sentiments. "Why couldn't you be a hero like your brother?" "At least someone in this family cares about our future." "Worthless, all she does is sit on her ass all day... What a waste."

The more unprovoked insults were cursed at you, the more you began to avoid your step-father completely. You weren't in the mood to argue with him and deny all of his meaningless accusations. Ignoring Eijiro's behaviour slowly became impossible and there was no one willing to help you. Trying to be dismissive brought you no progress. Finally, you decided to confront your step-brother.

Tonight, you knocked on the wooden door leading to his room. The familiar tapping of your knuckles sends shivers down your spine; you didn’t want to think about that night but your mind flooded those images back. Soft, yet audible moans were heard beyond the door. Again, your name. This time, however, you wouldn’t make the mistake of opening it. Instead, you knock again — even yelling his name multiple times to get his attention.

“I’m coming!” The loud stomping of his footsteps causes the ground to tremble. Finally, the redhead opens the door. He seems disheveled and pants like he’s just finished a marathon. The waistband of his sweatpants wrap loosely around his waist. “What’s up, big sis?”

“Hey, Eijiro… Um, there’s something I need to talk to you about,” You watch as the hero's face becomes puzzled and concerned. “It won’t take too long, promise.”

Upon reassuring him, he nods and moves his body out of the path for you to enter. Eijiro’s room is a lot bigger and more polished than yours. It was your room before your step-father forced you out to make space for his golden child. Inside was his own personal gym, trophies he was awarded for his work, Crimson Riot and motivational posters, and, of course, framed photos of you and the family. You tried to ignore the sweet yet musky scent of the devious acts he was doing before you arrived.

He sits on the end of his camouflage bed and pats a seat next to him for you. You try to piece together some sentences but your mind is still hazy, leaving the redhead adjacent to you lost. After staying in silence for a few seconds, he clears his throat before speaking.

“So… what do you need to talk about?” Rubbing the back of his neck anxiously, he waits. You always hated when he pretended to be innocent, the same facade he does when dealing with your mother and step-father.

“Kiri… I know,” Only a few words manage to leave your mouth as he peers up at you. His expression changes from guilt to innocence in the blink of an eye. Eijiro knew one day you would question him about his actions, so he's been preparing.

“I don’t know what you mean.” He seems genuinely confused; if you were a fool, you would be convinced by it.

"I know," Your eyes closed as you sighed and tried to relax your fuzzy mind. "I know about the pictures."

"The pictures..?" Eijiro's eyes cast a persuading yet pitiful glance at you, trying to make you feel ashamed for asking him. You weren't fazed because deep down, you knew it needed to end. "What pictures are you talking about?"

"The pictures you have of me on your phone. That's what I'm talking about." Trying to sound stern didn't work on him and he remained with the same posture and facial expression: a hand still nervously scratching his spikey-hair and wide puppy eyes as he stared at you.

"Big sis, I really don't get what you mean. I only have family photos with you, nothing else. I love you and mom, you guys are my entire world. I want us to be happy, but you always make it hard-" Before he could finish the rest of his sob story, you interrupted him.

"Don't lie, Eijiro." His gaze seems to soften as he continues to watch you. Finally, he realized that you wouldn't back down and trust him. All you wanted was for him to stop talking, the same words that could manipulate the hearts of your parents would never bypass yours. "I'm not mad, I just want to talk." That was a lie, the whole situation made you livid.

Truthfully, this encounter was better than trying to discuss it with your mother or step-father. They would fall for his lovely words, melting as they listened to him professing his undying love for his older sister who refused to reciprocate. You were only cautious about interacting with him once you learned about the pictures; imagine what he would try to do if you two were alone. The thought was nauseating; they always criticized you every time you seemed to act inconsiderate to Eijiro. Always making himself seem like the holy child, you were the unruly one.

As a few seconds pass, Eijiro shuts his eyes tight. His lips tremble as if tears threaten to fall down his cheeks, but his dry eyes say otherwise. If he tried to cry his way out of this situation, you weren't sure what you would do next. Exhaling a deep and long breath, he finally starts to speak.

"I'm sorry... I didn't mean to- I just couldn't stop myself." Caving in, he admits and tries to find the right words to remedy your anger.

"I'm really disappointed in you. It's inappropriate for a brother to do that to his sister-" As you start to lecture your younger step-brother, he interrupts you. Just like an annoying little sibling, he wouldn't sit still and listen to your scolding.

"We aren't related." The unusual sound of his serious and monotone voice makes you freeze. Eijiro looks up at you with an agitated and deadpan expression, unlike his normal behavior.

"Eijiro, don't say things like that. It doesn't matter if we're related or not, our parents are married. I only see you as my brother and nothing else."

The bitterness of your words left a stinging discomfort in his heart. No, he did not want to believe it. Always convincing himself that it didn't matter since you two were not related by blood. The cold reality of your relationship seemed to be something that his delusion refused to let him accept. Eijiro doesn't care about meaningless labels like who is 'brother' and 'sister', he would have you to himself in the end. He was certain. His heart is still shattered, no amount of his convincing would change this.

"Well... you're more than a sister to me." Before you can scold him for spewing nonsense, his lips part as he speaks ahead of you. "I've always felt that way about you, before the wedding... when we first met." Too stunned to speak, you wonder if your brother was truly in the right mental state because all he said was pure foolishness. Suddenly, his head falls to his palms as he covers his face in anguish. "Why..? Why did they have to get married..?"

"...What? Why are you asking me that?"

"Because it's not fair... you're perfect for me, but I can't have you and it's not fair..." Eijiro raises his head as he stares at you again, this time pleading for you to understand him. "You don't get it, but you're all I can think of. I dream about you, about us. Every time we're apart, I can't stop wondering about you. When I close my eyes, you're the first thing I see. Fuck, it's awful when I'm in this house with them. I hate looking at them because they always remind me that I'll never have you."

“N- No, Eijiro. Stop…”

“No?” He relaxes in his seat and seems more than dejected. “…Why do you always ignore me? Is it because of the pictures? I’m sorry, I’m sorry. I know I messed up… I’m so fucking dumb,” Balling his fists, he hits his forehead an alarming number of times while chanting “stupid, stupid” before stopping. “I know I disappointed you, just let me be good for you… I’ll change. Let me love you, let me worship you… please? I’ll be good… tell me you love me, praise me. Anything… I just need you right now, sis…”

"Eijiro..." Honestly, you weren't sure how to respond. You said the only thing that came to your mind, like the responsible big sister that you are. For a second, his eyes sparkle in hopes that you felt the same way. "Don't disrespect our parents."

Again, the harsh truth instantly reminds him of your situation. Of course, there was no possibility that you would agree with him. You were always better than him in every way, always resolute and steadfast, it makes him envious — you couldn't be swayed by him.

"Disrespect?" He says in disbelief before shrugging his shoulders and staring away. "I don't care. I wonder why you care, though. My dad always talks bad about you behind your back. I'm sure you know he hates you." You also can't figure out why you valued their marriage so much. "If it wasn't for that fucking wedding, you'd be mine. Wish I could tear up those dumb marriage papers..." Eijiro chuckles to himself before lowering his head to the ground.

He knows his actions were wrong, the mental toll of his behavior was gnawing at his morality every time he saw you. The only time he successfully manages to think otherwise is when he needs to ease the pressure from his swelling bulge. It was embarrassing, a hero meant to protect others from harm had caused his only sibling to go through discomfort and pain because of his devious acts. Only deserving of the worst karma and punishment.

Seeing him become saddened, you couldn't help but feel bad. You didn't hate him, you just didn't like his actions. Although his speech made you sympathize with him slightly, you couldn't urge yourself to do unholy things with him. Until...

"Look, I'm sorry if I sounded harsh. I just... I just need you to stop thinking about me like that." To you it seemed simple, but you were asking him to do the impossible. A smile tries to creep across his lips but soon fades, too heartbroken. What would a good big sister do in this situation? You finally decided to cave in, the only option you could think of. "If I help you... will you stop?"

"Yeah, I guess... but how will you help?" He seems hesitant to obey your request, yet decides to follow you.

"We can try something, just once. I'll help you get over it. You need to promise that you won't take pictures of me again."

"O- Okay, I promise." Although he isn't sure what you'll do next, Eijiro already has some ideas in his mind. Raising himself up until you two are eye-level, he seems ready to engage in whatever solution you plan. He knows he won't be compliant for long, but that doesn't affect him at all.

"Um, alright... Let's make this quick, yeah? I think they'll be home soon." An hour prior, your parents left home to attend a double date with another couple who lived nearby. Having them home during this whole encounter would only make things worse, you thought. Unsure where to begin, your hands nervously twitched together as your face flushed with warm heat.

"Nervous?" He interrupts your deep thoughts while staring up curiously. You didn't notice the impatient thumping of his foot against his floor as he waited.

"Yeah... I don't know where to start-" Start? You shouldn't be doing this at all.

The feeling of the redhead's lips against your neck makes you halt. Peppering kisses along the skin above your jugular before gliding is tongue along your collarbone, Eijiro's patience ran thin and he just couldn't listen to your rambling anymore. Instinctively, your hands grasp his shoulders as you try to slow down the excited hero who's too busy massaging your plush skin.

His fingers clawed into the cotton of your pajamas, leaving harsh bruises that would surely ruin your skin in the morning; so energetic, he accidentally hardened his fingers as dug into you. Your protesting went ignored, he waited too long for this moment and there was no way he would lose it. Moving his lips to kiss your lips to muffle your calls and slipping his tongue inside your wet cavern to shut you up, until you finally pulled away.

"S- Stop..!" You pant once you manage to escape his grasp. He begins to frown once again, too worried that he'll upset you. Secretly, you don't want to enjoy it too much or else you'll want more. "Don't do that..."

Pulling away from his arms, he thinks you'll leave him alone to deal with the growing tent in his sweatpants that is proudly on display and hard for you to ignore. You move up his bed until you're leaning against his headboard and pillow. Eijiro's gaze seems to ease once he sees you pat your legs for him to come closer. He soon follows like a pitiful and lonely man approaching the calls of a siren.

"Lay down." The hero follows your directions, waiting for you to place a pillow in your lap before finally resting his head on the soft padding.

Holding the hem of your pajama shirt, you lift the clothing until your breasts are exposed to his lustful gaze. The whole encounter, you failed to notice his constant glances to your chest once he noticed you weren't wearing a bra. His lips slightly parted and showed his sharp teeth, too mesmerized at the beauty in front of him. Brushing some of his locks away from his forehead while staring down at Eijiro, you hadn't noticed some of his features after ignoring him for so long. His usual furrowed eyebrows and aggressive eyes softened under your touch.

The pro-hero who was applauded by nearly every civilian and had posters of his tough aesthetic plastered everywhere seemed so docile, it was hard to fathom. Luckily the eyes of his fans and the world weren't watching him, this was something only you were lucky enough to see. Placing his hand up to one of your tits, you try to guide his large palm to massage your flesh. His drunken eyes move watch as he thumbs across your buds, a choked whimper leaves both of your throats almost simultaneously.

Whining and shifting uncomfortably, his hips bucked into the empty air as he desperately searched for something to help relieve himself; it was quite pathetic watching the manly hero squirm underneath you. His free hand palmed the front of his sweatpants trying to unsuccessfully release tension from his aching body. Softly chuckling at his actions, you replaced his hand with your own; pressing down at his hardened member. Your laughter soon followed with a gasp once feeling the impressive size in your hand through the loose fabric.

"C- Can I..?" He sheepishly asks as his fingers are busy toying with your nubs and peers up at you.

By now, you've forgotten the purpose of your actions. He's wrong, you're just as bad as him. The little morality in your mind narrowly escapes with your next words. Perhaps deep down, you yearned for the same wishes.

"Can you, what? Use your words for me," Grazing along the length of his shaft, you watched as he shuddered and blushed. Cute, you should try this more often. "Baby boy..." The name slips out of your mouth almost automatically and, for a second, you wonder why you aren't ashamed of yourself anymore.

Seeing him perk up in excitement fueled a side that you left hidden for a long time. This is what a good sister would do, right? Even if it meant that you could control your step-brother's lust for a short time, it wouldn't hurt to play along. Get everything over with before leaving him after his high and weeping in your room after a surge of guilt. This was only to help and get him to leave you alone. Yet, if this was so wrong, why did you feel a throbbing ache between your thighs?

“I need to- Can I s- suck on your tits, please..? Hurts bad… wanna taste…” He whispered in a tiny voice.

“That’s it…” Upon seeing you nod and oblige to his wishes, his lips hungrily wrapped around your bud while clutching tightly to the one in his hand. Flicking his tongue against your flesh before suckling, he watched as your face contorted in pleasure. “Good… good boy…”

His sharp teeth sink into your skin until you wince at the sudden pain. Eyeing him with a look that says “No biting”, you watch as he defiantly relaxes in your hold. You didn’t know, but it was humiliating for him to be so submissive. Yet, there was no part of him that wanted to press your body against his firm mattress and ravage you until your parents heard the echoes of your moans through his room. No, Kirishima secretly enjoyed this. As much as you and possibly even more. It wasn’t too bad, manly boys need love too.

Rolling his tongue over the bud, he eagerly listened to your small hushed gasps at his movements. One of his fingers tweaked and pulled at your free bud until a sore feeling erupted over your skin. Palming his member through his sweatpants you desperately wanted to release it from its strong hold. With each harsh suckle on your skin, Eijiro’s hips would buck into your hand, wishing and hoping for a meager release.

His wet, flat tongue ghosted along your areola. Soon, you joined him in trying to find friction for your core. Flicking your bud and encouraging more sinful sounds to escape your throat. Trying to hush your moans proved to be a task that you soon abandoned.

“Mmh~ E- Eiji… you’re so good… perfect.” Trailing your hands over his clothed region, you felt his hips buck into your palms as he sought after a meager release. Removing his hands from your bud, he roamed down past the flesh and to your pajama shorts before slipping his fingers inside and massaging over your clothed clit.

“Look at you, so pretty… is this all for me..?” You say whilst tugging the waistband of his sweatpants down and exposing his member to the warmth inside the room. “So big… just for me…”

Your fingers wrapped around his girthy shaft as you felt the straining member twitch happily in your palm. A low groan floated out of his throat as your thumb grazed his oozing tip, precum coating your skin. Quickly, you pulled your hand away before bringing your thumb to your mouth and savoring the salty clear essence on your tongue. Eijiro released another stressful whine from his lips and tugged on your bud with his teeth. You didn't know, but he hates teasing.

"Eiji..!" You gasped once feeling the boy's razor sharp teeth pierce the fragile skin of your areola. Upon seeing you wincing in pain, he brought his fingers towards your cheek and caressed your skin.

"I'm sorry... Don't get mad at me..! Need you bad, please... It hurts, don't leave," Eijiro left soft pecks along your chest, before leaning upwards and attaching his lips to your neck and cheeks.

"Okay... Okay, I'm not mad... Lay down again." Gently pushing his chest until his head was placed in your lap again, your hand returned to its hold on him while he sighed in relief.

Pumping his length in your fist, you watched as his hips bucked into your hand. His chest heaved repeatedly against your body until a spew of expletives left his mouth, just like that night. Slowly enveloping his veiny cock into your palm, you watched as the boy soon became restless in your hold. Shifting his lower region of his body until he could feel more pleasure surge to his untouched cock. A deep red covered his cheeks and nose while his eyes shut tightly.

Setting a slow pace seemed to make him more restless with every passing second. Nearly snapping his hips upwards in frustration, his face shifted in discomfort.

"P- Pleeease... I can't..." Eijiro's hands returned to grasp onto your still exposed breasts, clinging tightly as if he thought you would run away.

"Eiji, I told you to use your words," Groaning, he seemed too reluctant to listen to your encouragement. "What's wrong, baby? Tell me..."

Reaching down, one of his empty hands tightly wrapped around your fingers and his shaft. As he nuzzled closer to your flesh and inhaled your scent, he guided your hand to pump along his foreskin faster. Once you reach the perfect speed, his lips encompass your pebbled flesh once more. A few more low moans and gasps echoed through the room and vibrated against your skin.

"F- Faster, please... fuck," Eijiro begged into your skin, releasing his hold on your body for a few seconds as his muscles began to sieze.

Quickening your pace, his sticky clear nectar coated your fingers as you massaged his cock. Eijiro's body soon completely stilled in your grasp, rutting his hips into your hand as his breath became more rigged. Arching his back against your thighs, you could feel the twitching of his cock in your palm. His hot breath tickled the skin on your flesh as you watched his face flush with heat. Detaching his lips from your buds, a string of saliva connected you together before breaking apart.

"Fuck, fuck... it's- i'm c- coming..!" Creamy, white essence poured from his reddened tip, trickling down the back and inside of your hand. Soon painting your hands white as he emptied himself inside your palm. His grasp on your body tightened while you coaxed out every drop from his aching balls. Gritting his teeth as his body shuddered against yours, Eijiro finally rested his head against your thighs again, still cooling down from his high.

You scanned around his nightstand until you spotted a box of tissues — some were crumpled and placed next to a mysterious looking bottle of lotion, but you ignored it. Reaching for the tissue, you cleaned your fingers and some cum still oozing out of Eijiro’s tip. The panting sweaty hero seemed to get comfortable in your hold as he continued to nuzzle closer to your chest, almost wanting to drift asleep.

“Eiji, this is the last time, okay? Don’t get your hopes up.” After cleaning your fingers and his now limp member, you tossed the tissue on the nightstand. Kirishima knows this won’t be the last time. “And clean these up, it’s gross.” Too dazed from his high, the boy couldn’t listen to his sister’s usual scolding, you tried gaining his attention in another way. “Where’s your phone?”

“Here…” He weakly passed his phone to you, not bothering to ask any questions.

“What’s the password?”

“1610.” His birthday, of course.

Opening his gallery, you scan the photos. His most recent ones seem to be low-quality dick pictures and a couple of selfies with his friends, you would usually press about them but decide not to bother the drowsy hero. You find an album of your indecent photos, much more than you first imagined. Quickly, you deleted the album, which resulted in every single photo of you disappearing as well. Even making sure that he couldn’t restore them any time soon.

“What did you do?” He asks as a couple words slur from his lips. After resting for a couple minutes, he seems to regain his senses.

“I deleted the pictures. Please, I don’t want to see them again.” Tossing the phone across the bed, you pull down your shirt and help tuck his member away in his sweats.

“Why am I such a pathetic brother? I can’t even get that shit right.” Lifting himself off of your lap, he rests his body against the cushioning of his mattress before staring up at the ceiling, lost in thought. “Why don’t you stay with me? Wanna cuddle?”

“No, I’m a little tired. I need to go back to my room before they come home.” Raising off the bed, you make it to the door before he can say any more persuading words for you to stay.

“But, what about you? I can make you feel good, come. Please..? I'll lock the door so they won't bother us... Don't you want to stay with me?” Trying not to look into his eyes, you tidy your clothes before heading to the door. He tries reaching for your hand but you swat him away.

“I’ll figure something out.” You had no choice, the throbbing pain in your core needed to be dealt with soon. A pool of slick in your panties makes walking uncomfortable.

Eijiro pouts as he watches you leave and desperately wants to call after you. The sound of his bedroom door clicking shut reminds him that again, he is alone. The ecstasy from your comforting touch began to wear off. Soon, he found himself miserable and thumping his foot against the mattress, he wished you were still here. As he relaxed on his bed, he knew this was something lingering. A feeling that neither of you would ignore over the next couple of days. He yearned for more. Beyond a momentary pleasure, he knew he needed more.

You heard his frustrated yet loud huffs as you stood by his door. No matter what would happen, you promised your self not to give into temptation. Although your methods might not be the best, if you were lucky, you wouldn’t have to worry about any pictures for a long time. As you walk towards your bedroom to prepare for a sleepless night, the front door of your home swings open and reveals your mother and step-father returning from their date.

“(Y/N)! How’ve you been?” Your mother says while smiling up at you. Your step-father barely gives you a glance and simply walks straight past you to their bedroom. Giving your mother a simple “good”, she continues. “Don’t worry about him. We had a little fight on the way back, but it’s fine!” She says gleefully but you know a little fight is an understatement. “Were you in Eijiro’s room?”

“Y- Yeah, we were just talking…” Although you tried not to bring too much attention to yourself, you couldn’t stop the look of embarrassment on your face.

“I’m glad. I really want you guys to get closer, you know? It’s hard since everything feels sudden, but give him a chance. He’s very nice!” She sets her coat on a jacket hanger before taking off her shoes and placing them by the door.

“We’ll see what happens.” This is the only time.

Riot ❤️‍🔥 (2:54 AM) : sis, are you still up? I can hear you from my room

You (2:56 AM) : sorry just having trouble sleeping

Fingers playfully dancing around the hood of your clit trying to bring yourself to a climax that fails to erupt. Moans and pants of annoyance echo through the walls. Your mother hears it but your step-father is dismissive. Eijiro finally brought a girl home, he thinks.

You (2:58 AM) : but why are you still up?

Riot ❤️‍🔥 (2:59 AM) : dunno, can’t sleep too

He can’t sleep because as your loud sounds bounce off the walls and into his ears, he feels himself spark with excitement. There are no photos to ease his desires anymore. All he can imagine is having your body in his bed, contorting in pleasure. The feeling of your flesh against his tongue and teeth and your hands massaging around him. He soon learns his own hands aren’t enough anymore.

You (3:04 AM) : need some help with something… wanna come over?

It’s almost poetic. Through your righteous speeches about being “siblings” with no blood relation or needing to value your parents dysfunctional marriage, you were still worse than him. At least he was honest and didn't pretend. Before you could regret your text message, the twisting of your doorknob breaks you from your thoughts. The redhead enters without knocking, even bolder than you.

Before you could speak, he kneels in front of your bed. Hands in his lap, eager and ready to serve.

[shieldofiron]

La Ladra

Harringrove Week Day #1. Prompt: Candy Corn.

Seattle, WA, 1993

The first taste Steve has of Billy Hargrove, it’s entirely by accident. And way too sweet.

He gags pushing the white paper cup away sputtering, “What the hell-”

“Mr. Harrington, I’m so sorry,” His assistant pulls the cup away, “Here, this one’s yours.”

He’s still trying to get the taste off of his tongue, coughing a little, “What is that?”

She looks sheepish, “Candy Corn Latte.”

He must be showing his disgust on his face, because she blushes crimson to the roots of her hair.

“Where did you obtain that monstrosity?” He shakes his head, “It’s… ugh… there are no words for it.”

“The new place around the corner, The Four Horsemen,” She’s still blushing, hard, “It’s… it’s not so bad.”

“Chrissy,” He blinks at her, grabbing for his own plain black coffee to wash out the taste, “It’s disgusting.”

“It’s a little sweet,” Her eyes dart around.

“It’s full. And… cold,” The memory of the taste, sickly sweet, is hard to forget, “Have you even had any?”

She looks down at her sensible pumps, “No. Just a taste.”

“I’m traumatized, and you didn’t even like it?”

“It’s… it’s the barista there,” Chrissy mutters, her small body twisting a little with embarrassment, “He’s… really… really… um, cute.”

Steve laughs, taking another deep sip and trying to forget the taste, “So you thought this would… what? Impress him?”

“No,” Chrissy toys with the cardboard cup holder, “O-only if I just get a plain coffee I can’t stay and talk to him.” He notices now that her cup has a stamp on it, four skeletons dancing around a bonfire, with bold lettering underneath that spells out “Four Horsemen Coffee Shop, Seattle, WA.”

“Ohhhh,” Steve nods, grinning, “Now it’s all coming together.”

She bites her lip, her hands twisting together, and brushes the spot where her wedding ring used to be. Chrissy had had a tough time since the divorce, with her parents disowning her and her ex trying to screw her for the car dealership that was still technically in her name. Steve was happy to see that she had a crush, although he wasn’t sure torturing her taste buds was the way to capture them.

Why don’t you ask him out?” He spurs, the legal briefs in front of him entirely forgotten. It’s not as though Steve could actually lose his place at the company if he spends the afternoon gossiping with his assistant. He’s a glorified pencil pusher, only there because his dad pulled strings. He didn’t really care very much when they asked him to correct grammar and research rather than do, like, his actual job.

“No way,” She shakes her head, “He’s so cool. He’s so cool. He has all these tattoos, and big pretty doll eyes. And he’s in a band. I’ve… I’m…”

“Okay,” Steve shrugs holding his hands out to her, “Come on, Miss Indiana. That’s very cool.”

“No, I’m not,” She slumps in the ugly office chair, “I know he’s just thinking I’m some yuppie loser.”

“I promise, nobody would think that,” Steve offers her his hand, “Chrissy. You are very cool.”

“Stop,” She pouts, “Steve, if you just saw him you would get what I mean.”

Steve looks up at the clock. He doesn’t have another meeting until four, and the research is basically done; he just has to write it up, “Okay. I’ll go in, and get a look at this Mr. Cool guy, and report back.”

“Don’t tell him I sent you,” Chrissy’s eyes go wide.

“What- why would that come up?” Steve shakes his head, “I’m just gonna get a black coffee, and get a look at him, and then you and I can make a game plan. I got like… every chick in high school. I’ll come up with something.” He got more than a few of the guys too, but he is at the office, and he’s not actually out to his dad yet, so he’ll leave that off the list.

“In high school,” Chrissy looks skeptical, “How about lately?”

“I’m… I’m working on it, okay,” He shakes his head, “You want my help or not?”

She drags in a deep breath, “Okay. Okay.”

The air is brisk when he finally steps outside, and he buttons his suit jacket, trying to straighten his rumpled tie. He ought to have grabbed his jacket before he left, but it’s too late now. He checks his watch again, just to be safe, and saunters down the street, following Chrissy’s directions. It’s at the edge of the financial district, and it looks a little out of place if Steve is being honest. The window is painted with the same logo he’d seen on the cups, and someone’s carved elaborate jack-o-lanterns and left them out around the door.

There’s only one person working, and it looks like they’re about to close, so Steve hurries inside. The wind follows him, blowing leaves across a freshly swept floor.

“Oh,” Steve glances up at the guy with the broom.

He does have pretty doll eyes, Steve thinks while he stares, trying to get something, anything else to come out of his mouth. They’re blue, fringed with long dark lashes. He’s big, muscular, and as promised, covered in tattoos. The bicep turned towards Steve has a traditional heart on it with a banner that reads, “MAXINE.” This hovers over a blonde pin up girl, riding a surfboard on a big wave, her bikini top half off.

“Hey,” The man’s voice is low and lilting, “What can I do you for?”

“Uh,” Steve swallows hard, dragging his eyes up to the pretty face behind the blonde curls.

The man smiles, slowly, his eyes dancing a little, “Cat got your tongue?”

“C-coffee,” Steve manages to sputter.

The man just kind of nods, shaking his head and laughing as he makes his way behind the counter, “Forget your coat, Pretty Boy?”

“Shut up,” Steve blurts out before he can stop himself, a half whine. Oh, his brain says to him helpfully, he called you pretty.

"Ooh. A little fire in you. I like it. So just a coffee then? What size?” The man leans on the counter, his biceps jumping under the cut off sleeves of his shirt. It’s warm inside, and he’s pushed the curls off of his face with a black bandana.

“Large,” Steve swears he’s trying to get himself under control. Only… he is really pretty. He is really cool. And damn it to hell Chrissy likes him. Steve wishes he didn’t get coffee at the chain place by his apartment every morning. He wishes he had seen him first.

The man hums under his breath, eyes dancing across Steve’s face, down to his collar, his tie, his- “Large.”

Before Steve can react he’s turned away, paper cup in hand, filling it from the machine behind him. The back of his faded t-shirt  reads, “Malibu Surf Competition, 1984.”

“You from California or something?” Steve tries to suck in a breath.

The man glances over his shoulder, “Maybe. What’s it to you?”

“Oh, just… making conversation,” Steve stuffs his hands in his pockets.

“That’ll be $1.89,” The man places the cup on the counter in front of Steve, his fingers lingering on the edges of the paper. Steve watches, mesmerized, as a silver ring glints in the golden hour sunlight. He has nice hands, strong looking. He wishes he was a photographer, like his friend Jonathan. That would be a great opening.

Steve looks up at the man’s face and thinks, You’re really beautiful.

It doesn’t occur to him that he could have said it out loud, until he sees a blush rise high on the man’s cheeks, making his eyes seem bluer, vivid blue like the ocean on a hot summer’s day.

“Uh,” Steve digs through his wallet with sweaty fingers and slams a $20 on the counter, “Keep the change.”

He’s halfway up the street, cursing at himself, by the time he realizes he left the coffee. His mouth still tastes like candy corn. He smooths his hair back from his face and buries his head in his hands.

[Also on AO3 here. Part Two - here]

[prince-honeypaw]

Could you do a continuation of baby regressor Shigaraki, but after Kurogiri’s been captured? Who do you think would step up as his Caregiver? Or would the entire League pitch in?

♡ Oh I am an absolute sucker for little Tomura and League as family! I hope you enjoy this. I had to cut off a lot so it wouldn't get too long so I may make another part to this later!

♡ Loss is not something that is uncommon for the league. Losing AFO was a pretty hard blow that only Tomura really felt, but he had Kurogiri to lean on afterwards. He was able to bounce back in spite of it.

♡ Losing Magne hit even harder. She was a strong, capable woman that took care of the league like family, and watching her disappear hurt so much. But, even though Tomura had to be strong then, he still had Kurogiri to help him through the worst of it.

♡ Losing Kurogiri sends him into a spiral.

♡ His actions following Kurogiri's capture were spurred by a relatively one track mindset: Protect his league. No matter the cost, mind or body, everything he did was for the league. Contacting the Doctor, taming Gigantomachia, taking over the Meta Liberation Army- He did it all for them. He was their sole leader now, without a second in command or shadow benefactor to support him.

♡ Tomura felt alone. Little, afraid, and terribly alone. But, he pushed it down, crushed it into the farthest corners of his mind and kept pushing forward- He had to be the leader the league deserved, the one they needed.

♡ He could take time for himself later, he'd always say, later. Later, later, later, but never soon. There was a lot to do when commanding an army, he didn't have the time to just process everything that had happened to him.

♡ Maybe he didn't want to.

♡ The remnants of the League, particularly Toga, were not oblivious to Tomura's struggles. Himiko could tell he missed Kurogiri and didn't know how to cope with losing him. She suggested they simply just steal Kurogiri back.

TOGA: We could totally steal Kurogiri back and make Tomura super happy, right? SPINNER: Yeah, let's go to Tartarus of all places, break in, find and steal a grown man, and simply leave. TOGA: See? I knew you'd get it! SPINNER: I was being sarcastic, you tick.

♡ They do not make any attempts at kidnapping Kurogiri.

♡ What they do happen to do is try to pick up where Kurogiri left off! Since regression was an integral part to keeping Tomura mellow and placid, they decide that they'll just figure out how to make him drop!

♡ And they'll be using Mr. Re-Destro's credit card to do it.

♡ (They also take his car.)

♡ Giving the League of Villains access to a credit card with near limitless funds is like giving a monkey a sledge hammer. Dangerous, but expected. They are storming the local Walmart with reckless abandon.

♡ Since Tomura has taken over Re-Destro's master bedroom in the villa (Because they can't seem to let him have anything), they figure that some of the space could be used for some cool new furniture, and there's a lot of closet space to occupy with soft clothes that won't aggravate his skin, and other sick accoutrements they could spend ludicrous amounts of money on.

♡ So they split up when they get in the Walmart. Jin and Himiko take over toys and snacks- and whatever else catches their eyes- while Shuichi and Atsuhiro are on clothes and furniture duty. Dabi does whatever he wants, but he's generally with the furniture team.

♡ Jin and Himiko are surprisingly competent with their choices! They pick things that are similar in texture to Tomura's favorite toy, Mon-chan, snacks that they saw Kurogiri stock up on before Kamino, soft cotton pajamas, sippy cups, bottles, pacifiers. If this was a competition they'd be reigning champs!

♡ Team Atsuhiro and Shuichi ft. Dabi are not as successful. They're fish out of water, Shuichi keeps running the cart into the back of Atsuhiro's ankles on accident, Dabi thinks children need raw meat. They manage to successfully get A Shelf and a Chococat sweater.

♡ Dabi doesn't help much at the store, so he was given the task of keeping watch for Tomura while they ransack set up his room with their haul. It should have been an easy task, and yet. Dabi just gives Tomura an idle wave when he passes by, too busy sewing up... Something.

♡ But, Tomura walks in on the rest of the League trying to put a bookshelf together, very poorly at that. They stare at each other for awhile in silence.

♡ Himiko fesses up, "We know you miss Kurogiri and you're trying really hard to be a good boss, but you aren't taking care of yourself... So, we're going to pick up the slack, okay?" Dabi looms next to him from behind and helpfully adds, "Not that you have much of a choice, boss."

♡ Tomura is stunned silent, any anger for them breaking into his room while he was gone fizzling out and being replaced by something else. Something he hasn't felt in so so long. This soft, fuzzy warmth that he's been stomping out whenever it rears its head.

♡ He starts scratching at his neck, unable to handle this overwhelming emotion that is bubbling up. It's comforting, it's terrifying, it's out of his control. He's crying.

♡ He misses papa so so much. It's been weeks, but he never really thought about it. But, God he misses Kurogiri, he misses being small, everything has gotten so big that it feels like he's had to grow up all over again.

♡ There are... Various reactions to this development. Generally, it evolves into a collective panic because the baby is crying and no one knows what to do about it.

HIMIKO: Oh, no no no, what's wrong? Is it too much? Do you hate it? SHUICHI: I told you this was a bad idea, we should've just asked first- JIN: You were the one that drove us! You're right, this was stupid idea!

♡ Atsuhiro, defacto team dad, has to settle things down before they overwhelm Tomura even more. "Now now, everyone, let us take a step down. This is a new experience for us all, and adjustments were inevitable. Let us table this for now and discuss it tomorrow?"

♡ There is a resounding agreement. They can talk about it tomorrow, and just live in the now like they always have.

♡ While Jin and Shuichi argue about how to put together a shelf, Atsuhiro washes out one of the sippy cups Himiko helped Tomura choose (red with paw prints on the lid rim) and gets him some juice to rehydrate. All the while, Dabi is minding his business at the end of the bed.

♡ It's not exactly quiet, but it's grounding. Tomura comes up from his sudden drop to a gentle middling state, just enjoying this mish mashed company he's gone and collected for himself.

♡ It's nnot quiet, but it is home.

♡ When everyone finally leaves for the evening, Dabi drops Mon-chan in his boss's lap with a short, gruff, "Hey. Don't say I never did anything for you." Tomura is, reasonably, confused until he picks her up. Where her leg had been hanging on by a thread it had been carefully stitched back up with a floral fabric and gold thread.

♡ Tomura finds that this may not be the same as when Kurogiri cares for him... But, it'll be just as good.

♡ That night he sleeps soundly.

[evilwriter-originals]

Through the Heart

Rated: teen

Warnings: injury, blood

Pairings: none

Word Count: 1,006

Summary: Sol is accidentally stabbed while sparring with one of King Dyon's men.

A/N: Happy Ides of March! Here is the stabbing story!

Sol had sparred with a sword probably a million times by now. His parents had made sure that he was skilled in at least one kind of weapon, despite his magic, and despite being royalty. Nessari royalty were not the kind to sit around and let others do the hard work without helping. His lessons in battle had gotten more rigorous after his brother’s capture and disappearance. 

Sol was sparring now. He couldn’t let his skill falter, especially now that they were at war and with Anaria missing.

He was fighting one of King Dyon’s men, a human. Sol noticed that, oddly enough, Dyon did not really let women into his army like Sol did. Why halve your army based on sex? Why not have more skilled fighters?

Either way, this man was rather skilled. He used his one-handed sword with ease, parrying all of Sol’s attacks. They weren’t using wooden swords, as both of them were much too old for that. Besides, they wouldn’t actually hurt each other. The most one would get would be a slap with the flat of a blade.

Though, Sol had more experience than this man had life. He had been sword-fighting for over 200 years now. This man had yet to reach the age of 40, it seemed. 

It didn’t take long for Sol to get him on the defensive. He was taking steps back, but parrying each blow perfectly, sword dancing in the air. The man could call to be finished if he wanted to be, but he didn’t. If anything, being on the defensive seemed to make him more fierce.

His blows came harder and harder, and Sol could feel the shock of them reverberating up his arm. Soon, he was on the defensive. He could have easily used his wings to back away farther from the man, but that wouldn’t be a fair fight. Not that any fight in war was fair, but sparring had some rules at least. 

The humans watching around the edges of the courtyard cheered on his opponent. Girad was there too, seemed to be a little at a loss of who to cheer for. He clapped anyway, possibly for both of them. 

Though, Sol had become distracted by watching the audience, and he lost his footing. He tried righting himself with his wings, missed a parry of his opponent’s blade, and then there was a horrible shock of pain in the right side of his abdomen. 

His sword clattered down to the smooth stone of the courtyard, and he gasped, looked down at the wound that the other blade had gouged. When he looked at his opponent, all he saw were wide eyes and a gaping mouth. It had been a quick stab, an accident, but it still hurt nonetheless.

“My lord, I am… I am so sorry.”

His opponent dropped his sword as Sol doubled over, a hand to his bleeding wound. He instantly offered himself to support his weight, and there were shouts from the audience to get a healer.

Girad was there in an instant. He helped Sol to sit down. He felt himself breathing hard, which just made it hurt more. It had been a good long while since he’d suffered a wound. 

And that just made him think of Anaria. She was still missing. Gods, what torment was she being put through? Would this wound have paled in comparison to whatever she was being inflicted with?

Tears sprang to Sol’s eyes, and not because of the physical pain he was in, but the emotional. 

Anika, the royal healer, was quickly found, and Sol was made to lay on his back and remove his hand from the wound. He groaned, turned his head away. He didn’t want to watch the healing process.

He shuddered and cried out as she laid her hands on him, and his flesh began to meld back together. It was always a painful and uncomfortable experience to be healed by way of magic. Though, Sol did wonder how humans dealt with wounds without magic.

“Catch your breath,” Anika told him once the wound was closed. She eyed the sword he’d been stabbed with, how much blood was on the blade. “It was deeper than I expected.” 

“It was just… unexpected,” Sol said breathlessly. He eyed his opponent. “You’ve earned my respect.”

“By… stabbing you?” 

“Well, yes, I have been at this for longer than you.” Girad and Anika helped Sol to sit up. “And you managed to best me.”

“It was an accident, my lord.” The man looked away, clearly feeling shame and humiliation for stabbing the king of the Nessari.

“Well, it was still a good swing.” Sol didn’t want the man on his knees begging for forgiveness. Better to compliment him instead. Sol knew why he’d let his guard down, why he’d gotten distracted. 

He’d thought he’d seen Anaria in the crowd, and had taken a split second too long to search for her face.

But she wasn’t there. 

Sol’s chest ached more than the remnants of his stab wound. He might as well have been stabbed through the heart.

“Let’s get you into bed,” Anika said, hoisting Sol up with the help of the humans. 

“No,” Sol growled. It took effort to get off the ground with how much the stab wound ached. “Escort me to the war room.”

“But, Your Majesty, you need rest,” Girad argued. 

“No.” He shook his head, sweat dripping from his hair. He was breathing hard, shaky on his feet. “I will not rest until my daughter is returned to me.” 

Girad and Anika exchanged glances, but then nodded.

“As you wish, my lord,” Anika said, and Girad echoed the “as you wish.” 

Shaking off their worried holds, Sol stumbled from the courtyard and into the castle, heading for the war room, uncaring of the blood on his shirt. He’d been sparring to ready himself for unavoidable battle, but now, he had to find the target of that battle. 

He had to find his daughter.

[clickerflight]

do you have anything like a character info or picrews for your adventurers story? since there seems to be a bunch of lore outside of what you’ve posted so far :)

i already thought the whump week story was interesting so i’m definitely going to have a look at what you’re writing about them this time !

— honey <3

Of course!

This story is one I started developing when I was 14 and it has grown with me. The whole worldbuilding and everything is so complicated it takes literal hours to explain it.

So, the general idea is that in the entire universe there are thousands of galaxies and plenty of them have some inhabited planets here and there. People can travel to other planets, but most of them don’t get involved in space travel. Most people instead use the complicated art of portology (this is mentioned in the story and I could sit an explain portology by itself for an hour)

Anyways. In the beginning there were five base races. One of these were the Telari, the first dragons. They were meant to be the protectors of the universe (protecting planets, helping end wars, guarding ambassadors, stopping apocalypses etc) and they did a good job until about 1000 years ago when they vanished. Most people believe some malevolent force set a trap to capture them, leaving the universe vulnerable.

So people stepped forward and created an organization called the Kahtir (this generally translates to memorium) and now they perform the jobs that the dragons left behind.

This whole story/thought project/daydream fodder thing is named The Adventurers because this story focuses on a team called that. Explaining how they all met is another hour of exposition but they became Teliar, agents of the Kahtir. They’re specifically a resource team which means they’re sent into most of the really fun jobs. The big magical catastrophes and whatnot.

Got distracted giving context. This story was built this way so that I could make my own worlds, but also include worlds from books and movies and such (this also has an in universe explanation but I won’t get into it now) so in the story of you see references to things like Star Wars and whatnot, that’s why.

And on to the actual character lore!

Laurance is actually based off a character in a show I watched as a kid but he’s changed so much that you can’t really tell anymore lol. He was born on a medieval planet and trained to be a guard. He got caught up in a cult on a pocket dimension and got killed and brought back to life as a demon and kept as a slave when he would swear to the ‘god’ the cult worshiped. He ended up escaping with a part dragon (scaleon) named Anisha who later became his wife. So here’s some are of him.

And yes, I drew them.

And a drawing I did last night for my Halloween wallpaper of his demon form

And then the other main character in this short story I’m writing is Matsu. He’s also based on an anime character I watched as a kid, but he’s changed so much that all that really remains the same is the color of his hair.

I have a yearly tradition of drawing him with a boba drink.

Matsu is a half mer so his other form really only shows up when his gills are immersed. This drawing was done by my friend.

Here’s a drawing I did of Laurance and Matsu I did a while back.

The other two members of the Adventurers show up in the short story towards the end so I’ll throw a couple of images here. I don’t have much are of Kira because she has been going through a redesign and it has been a mess.

Anisha

She is a part dragon known as a scaleon but she is actually stunted, 2-4 feet shorter than normal scaleons and her face is way more human looking than a scaleons is meant to be.

And we have kira. She is fully human but has slight abilities with shapeshifting. Only enough to change her hair and eye color occasionally. She’s from a high tech society and her parents while traveling through space to a new planet when she was still in the womb were in a radiation accident. Not enough to cause too many problems, but enough that any unborn children on that ship were later born missing limbs. She’s missing one arm but that’s not a big deal. She’s a techno wizard (a literal wizard that mixes magic and technology) so her prosthetics are nearly perfect

So, that’s the lot of them. (Not including all the kids they keep adopting over the years)

There is so much lore. I could talk about this all for days if anyone showed interest.

Thank you so much for asking!!! I’m very proud of this story and it’s complicated worldbuilding so I love getting the chance to talk about it, especially done I don’t usually get to because of how complicated the lore all is and how long it takes to provide adequate context for it.

[rubywithin]

Scrolls of Mudorius 18

(Gene) "You two I want you to guard this room at all costs!" (Guards) "Yes Sir". -Thump....Thump- (???) "Now it's your turn Gene" (Gene) "How did you take them out so easily?" (???) "Phantom Dagger it's like your victim has an imaginary knife in them till the user decides to bring it into reality. You could say the Daggers were inserted when I accidently bumped into them on the streets!". (Gene) "So you have been pretending to be a civilian this whole time? (???) "Of course you never cared about our people Gene so I will be doing them a favour by getting rid of you! Inferno...." (Kiyen) "Scythe Hurricane...." (???) "I see that feeling when I entered the room was you?" (Kiyen) "Scythe Dance" (Gene) "Darn it be careful....this place is too small for you to recklessly be swing that thing!". (???) "And you want to save this selfish scumbag, why? I thought you were one of those..." (Violet) "Knife Edge Wheel!"

(Kiyen) "Violet why are you here....this guy is too dangerous!" I gave him an angry look and he back down. (Violet) "I am here because I could tell you planned on fighting this guy even if it meant dying and I can't allow you to throw way your life Commander...no Kiyen". We both turned to look at the guy but he just stood there so we both charged at him, (???) "Piercing Knife" he launched the attack and we dodged....no his target was Gene. (Violet) "Inferno Dagger" I launched my attack hoping to stop the previous attack....phew my shot was on point. (Kiyen) "HYAAAAH" Kiyen caught him with an attack...that should be enough to kill him right? (???) "So after everything this man has done Violet you chose to save him". (Violet) "Who do you think you are talking to me...wait" no way it can't be. (???) "I guess I was right to join the Disowned....the one person who matters most to me has betrayed me!". (Hooded Girl) "Come forth the anger of the cloud's Lightning Blast".

(???) "Faye you didn't need to step in!" (Faye) "Gray I got the records we were after. Plus we will be hosting a meeting when Cres returns from her mission!". (Gray) "I will leave for now but in the future I will fight I will fight the three of you to death". The two of them ran off but Kiyen went after them....I had to stay behind and protect Gene. I hated him....but Kiyen was willing to protect him even if it meant losing his own life! -On the rooftops- (Faye) "That guy is chasing us and I wasted a lot of energy on that spell and I'm exhausted from looking through all those boring records!" (Gray) "That guy dealt me a death blow Faye....I probably would of been captured if it wasn't for you!" -The chase continued- (Faye) "Maybe a quick fireball with solve our problems". (Kiyen) "I won't let you guy's escape Scythe..." -as the three jumped off the roof!- (Crimson) "Inferno Lance Shot, this is my new and improved style" (Kiyen) "UUUUUUGH".

-As the three gathered Faye cast a spell to warp them away from Phanzom-. (Kiyen) "N....no I failed to stop them again.....ugh" -after a few days Kiyen woke up to see Violet waiting by his bedside-. I felt relived that he was able to wake up, (Violet) "Commander I am sorry I wasn't able to help you". (Kiyen) "It's fine you prioritised protecting a target of their attack....which unfortunately was a distraction this whole time". He told me all about what he had heard as he was chasing the two of them. I can't believe that three of them were here alongside of us and we didn't even realize. "Violet I want you to return to base and tell them the two names we heard and a fourth one which is Cres!". (Violet) "Wouldn't it be best if I stayed here with you and we send a letter?". He shook his head, (Kiyen) "You are still in fighting condition so I want you to return in case you are needed by another Commander!". I then made my way back to our base.....I had my suspicions on who he was. But when he took a deadly blow I was convinced it was Don....he told me he had a book of forbidden techniques! And one could cheat death but I assumed he died before he could learn more....I have a feeling Don is behind Crimson knowing that Nullify technique!

[watchmegetobsessed]

The Hottest Avenger - Bucky Barnes

a/n: im warning you, i will probably not stop for a while with the bucky fics so... brace yourselves lol! also i wrote this before ep 5 came out so its placed in that time

pairing: Bucky X Reader

warnings: TFATWS spoiler, some violence? nothing extreme

word count: 1.8k

summary: Being locked together with Sam and Bucky brings the worst out of you, picking on each other constantly. Following an arguement Bucky accidentally calls you his girlfriend in front of Sam when your relationship was supposed to be a secret.

masterlist

“Did you fucking eat the last dumpling?” you accuse Sam, holding up the empty takeout box where you thought were one more dumpling, one you’ve saved for yourself, but now it’s gone as Sam is eyeing you with his mouth full.

“Thought it was mine,” he mumbles, his words barely understandable from all the food in his mouth.

Taking a deep breath you’re trying not to jump at his throat right then and there. You’ve been locked up together all damn day in the trashy apartment across the street from the building where’s Zemo supposed to be hiding. Sharon had a tip about a possible place where he might be found, but you’ve been waiting to no avail for now. You’ve been growing stressed and impatient. You lost track of Karli and her people and now you can’t seem to find Zemo either. If it wasn’t for the Dora Milaje, you wouldn’t bother to be so after the asshole, but Bucky said if Ayo finds him first, he is dead and every useful information he holds goes to the grave with him so now you are forced to look for him. One failed mission has been following the other these days, that incompetent dickhead John is on the loose too after murdering that man in front of civilians and you feel like control has slipped out of your grip a long time ago. Now you’re stuck with Sam and Bucky in this crappy place, waiting by the window, watching out for Zemo and on top of everything… Sam ate your last dumpling.

Just when you’re about to snap at him, you feel a strong grip on your shoulder. You don’t have to look up to know it’s Bucky right behind you, but not just because he is the only other person in the room beside you and Sam, but also because you know his touch probably more than anyone. Only that most of the times it’s not your shoulder he is gripping…

It’s been going on for a long time between the two of you. Started with just some innocent flirting and you never thought it would grow into something more significant, but it did. And now you are officially in a relationship with none other than the Winter Soldier, only that no one else knows about it and you plan to keep it that way. You don’t need the teasing and jokes and the Avengers are known to be dicks sometimes, especially Sam.

Glancing up your eyes meet Bucky’s blue irises and he sends you a look that says “just let it go”, and though every fiber in you wants to whoop Sam’s ass, you let it slip.

“Don’t tell me you’re gonna get mad about a dumpling,” Sam chuckles as he chews on the food that you should be enjoying right now.

“I can get mad about whatever I want to,” you growl back, growing quite irritated of him at this point.

“Someone woke up on the wrong side of the bed,” he huffs under his breath, clearly not as bothered as he should be. Before you could do any harm in him, you leave your spot by the window, needing a breather from… well, from him.

“Hey, it’s still your turn!” he calls after you.

“I need a break,” you growl back.

“Get your ass back here, we agreed to switch every two hours!”

“Sam! I’m walking out because I’m way too tempted to punch you in the face right now!” you snap at him, losing your patience. He rises from his seat with a hard expression, not quite a fan of the way you just talked to him, but you couldn’t care less.

“You think you could actually throw one? Because last time we fought you couldn’t really get a hold of me,” he narrows his eyes at you, coming to stand tall in front of you, trying to intimidate you with how much taller and stronger he might be, but you both know you’re a better fighter.

“It’s easy to talk with your fancy tech stuff. Why don’t we see who wins in a simple battle?” you challenge him with faked boredom.

“Guys, stop. We should be looking out for Zemo, not tearing each other apart,” Bucky tries to end the staring contest, sticking his metal arm between the two of you in case any of you decides to launch at the other one.

“Then tell her to stop bitching!” Sam nods in your way.

“I’m not bitching, I’m just fed up with your bullshit!” you spat back at him, leaning closer, your chest coming in contact with Bucky’s extended arm.

“Don’t talk to her like that, Sam,” Bucky warns him, but Sam snorts dryly.

“Don’t tell me you are taking her side, she is throwing a fit for a fucking dumpling!”

“I’m not taking sides, just trying to settle this stupid disagreement here,” he defends himself and you roll your eyes.

“You can’t tell me she is not overreacting it, Buck!” Sam laughs in disbelief, taking a step back, dropping the act that he wants to fight you. He probably knows he would come out as a ridiculous loser. “This is fucking insane, I’m not in the mood to deal with your shit, Y/N,” he shakes his head.

“Hey!” Bucky snaps at him. “Don’t talk to my girlfriend like that, okay?!”

“I’m just—wait, what?!” Sam’s eyes widen and you freeze too.

Your dumbass boyfriend didn’t just out the two of you, did he? What else is about to come?! Sam’s shock turns into a cocky grin as his eyes shift between you and Bucky.

“You guys… you guys are fucking?” he asks with a delightful laugh and you close your eyes sighing, already tired of his shit.

“That’s not—We’re not fucking, I mean… It’s not like that,” Bucky stutters, but it’s just making it worse. He looks at you with terror in his eyes, but you are way too drained to deal with it the right way.

“Yes, we are fucking! And we are in a mature adult relationship! Get yourself over it!” you bark at Sam before turning around and walking out.

You faintly hear the two men talk inside, but you don’t make out the words. You don’t go too far, sitting on the steps leading up to the third floor. Soon enough you hear the door of the apartment open with a creak and a moment later Bucky shows up in your sight. He sits beside you, remaining silent for a little before speaking up.

“Sorry for running my mouth,” he mumbles, his head hanging low.

“It’s… fine,” you breathe out. Bucky fidgets with his fingers and you know he wants to touch you in any kind of way as a reassurance that it really is fine. You don’t want to hold a grudge, it was an accident, you’re just a little bummed it’s not gonna be just the two of you anymore. Reaching out you take his hand, the real one that’s flesh and meat and you lace your fingers together as he peeks at you, still reserved and hesitant.

“Is it really fine or are you just bottling it up?”

“It really is fine,” you chuckle softly and leaning closer you kiss his scruffy cheek. “The only reason I wanted to keep it a secret is because you know how vickery the guys can get. I just didn’t want them to pick on us.”

“They do it because they are just jealous,” he smirks playfully, his shoulder bumping against yours.

“Yeah? Of what?” A soft chuckle slips through your lips.

“That I scored the hottest Avenger,” he replies smugly and you can’t help but laugh with your head snapping back.

“I didn’t know you were fucking Thor!” you retort and immediately see his smirk vanish from his lips as he stares back at you, not enjoying your joke as much as you are.

“Thor? Really? Not this shit again, Y/N,” he narrows his eyes at you. Back when you were just skirting around each other, you loved pulling his leg, joking about how much you are into the hottest Avenger, aka Thor. He never appreciated it, usually earned you a tight-lipped smile before he mumbled “Tarzan’s got nothing on me” before walking away, leaving you laughing like a hyena.

“Come on, you know I’m more into super soldiers,” you grin, leaning closer as he pepper his sharp jawline with more small kisses.

“You know, it’s not the best thing to say to your boyfriend when there are now about eight more super soldiers running around,” he huffs.

“But none of them has a metal arm,” you point out, finally making him laugh.

“So that’s your kink? A vibranium arm?” he asks with faked shock and you curl your arms around his bicep, resting your chin on his shoulder.

“How haven’t you realized yet?” you chuckle. Bucky turns his head until his lips can capture yours in a sweet, lighthearted kiss that makes you forget about everything that’s been clouding over your mind these past days. All the failures, the mistakes and chaos fades into nothing, because you have him and he has you.

Walking back into the apartment Sam stares back at you, neither of you entirely sure how to act after what just happened. He then grabs his phone from the dusty table before holding it up.

“I could order some extra dumplings,” he offers and you crack a smile shaking your head. This was his peace offering, both of you knows he won’t straight up apologize for the way he talked, but this is already more than what you were expecting from him. Bucky must have had a few words with him before joining you outside.

“It’s all good.”

The three of you get back to work, taking your previous spots, returning to the task on hand as silence falls on the room once again. You catch Sam glancing at you and the Bucky and you can tell he is about to make a snarky comment on your relationship. And just as he is about to open his big mouth, Bucky moves to silence him, but you’re faster. With a simple move you throw Sam to the ground, keeping him down with your hand wrapped around his neck.

“Don’t even think about teasing, understood?” you hiss at him as he gasps for air, his hands wrapping around your wrist as he tries to fight you off, but you hold him a second longer to emphasize the importance of your words. Then you finally let go of him and he coughs for air, fixing him up from the floor as you simply walk back to your spot by the window.

“Hottest Avenger, huh?” he breathes out, revealing that he heard what you talked about out on the stairs. “More like the Avenger with the most anger issues…”

You just grin, glancing over at your boyfriend who is now standing with his arms crossed over his chest, not even bothered by his friend’s struggles on the floor as he smirks back at you, nodding proudly as if he was saying: “That’s my girl.”

Thank you for reading, please like and reblog if you enjoyed it!

[burger-boy-jones]

Would Anyone Care

Leo x Depressed Suicidal Reader x Donnie

Warnings: Attempted Suicide, Depression, Self Harm (Do not read this if it triggers you, you have been warned)

Song: Would Anyone Care by Citizen Soldier

Notes: Uhm yeah this is a real banger, kinda cried in the middle of making this one because its to close to home. I suffer from Depression myself and it tends to get worse over time. I rely alot on my friends to help me out and I'm so thankful for each and every one of them. If you suffer from Depression know this, you are not alone and not the only one suffering with it. You are cared for and loved by everyone and anyone and don't ever think that you aren't. Please take care of yourself, not just for your sake, but for others. Also side note uhm, sorry if it seems like its all over the place lol, kinda rushed this one. Also again while reading listen to the song as it will definitely not make you cry. 😢

Days turned to weeks, weeks turned to months and months turned to a year. Yet nothing has changed for the better for Y/N.

Aside from meeting them.

The turtles.

Y/N has to thank her friend April for meeting them, it was an accident of course.

An ugly one at that.

(Would anyone notice?)

(If tonight I disappeared?)

April decided she was gonna introduce Y/N to her friends, seeing that her friend was lonely and quite frankly it worried her.

Y/N was always alone if not being bullied for being a bookworm, but on top of that she was also shy. April however never judged her for who she was and managed to befriend her.

(Would anyone chase me)

It wasn't enough however, after that fatal day, everyone was a bit on edge.

April managed to convince them to come meet her friend and they obliged. What they didnt expect was that they all had walked in on Y/N cutting into her skin, blood running down her arm as it dripped onto her apartment floor.

Everyone was panicking as they rushed over to Y/N to asses the self injury.

(And say the words that I need to hear?)

This lead to being introduced to Donatello or Donnie, the tech savvy turtle in purple, he seemed arrogant, prideful, and rude at first but he's actually alot nicer than you think of course. He's also a certified bad boy or so he claims he is.

He stepped closer to Y/N, as he tapped away at his wrist watch as he ran some vital scans.

She doesn't even rememeber what he said, it all was so blurry to her. Then again she knows she hasnt eaten in a couple of days and hasn't drank alot of water too. So perhaps that would explain her blurry vision but she wouldn't know she's not a doctor.

(That I'm no burden)

(Not so worthless)

She does remember watching the blue banded turtle step forward, as he started to fix up her arm. His name she came to know was Leonardo or Leo for short. He called himself the face man, the star of the team he claims he is. He is as tactile as he is annoying, well only when he says his one liners. Which Y/N enjoyed very much, much to the brothers disappoinment.

She should have been paying more attention when it came to everything going on around her, but at the time all she focused on was the blue and purple turtles.

Donatello and Leonardo captured Y/N's interest from that day on.

Time passed after that day, and for the better?

As she got to know the turtles, things got easier and better for Y/N. She started to come outta her shell (heh) and began opening up to the others.

(Bent so much that I might break)

Y/N really was getting better.

(All consuming, so confusing)

(The questions that keep me awake)

I mean she did get into a relationship with Donnie and Leo. Which at first shocked them both from her startling confession of the two, to which they at first weren't sure how to go about this relationship.

Things worked itself out eventually, and for the better.

Or so they thought.

(Would anyone care)

(Would anyone cry)

At first they took to keeping an eye on her, due to past experiences she either talked about or their first meeting with her...they would rather not talk about it.

Eventually they were able to trust her by herself.

Which in itself should have been a good thing, but it wasn't. Y/N took advantage of her alone time and wound up hurting herself due to not being enough.

Not being good enough for Leo and Donnie.

She would constantly put herself down and think negatively, and it would always lead to her cutting herself or trying to end her life.

Leo found a noose in her bathroom at one point which scared the shit outta him. After that you never seen it again, which he was relived of.

Unfortunately this lead Donnie to researching her symptoms and it alarmed him.

Y/N had Depression, severe Depression at that.

The first thought that ran through his mind was if she was on medication, and if she was taking it.

The answer was no.

(Would anything change?)

(Would you all be just fine?)

Of course Donnie told Leo about this startling information and it bothered Leo tremendously.

Which led Leo to telling Donnie about the noose, and god did it freak Donnie out. Leo had never seen Donnie act so outta of it before, unless it came to his tech.

So from then on both tended to be by her side...well as much as possible after finding out about her Depression.

('Cause I need a reason to not throw the fight)

They made sure she was taking her men's once she got them, along with making sure she was eating and drinking properly.

(It might just save my life)

Things were going so well, until now that is.

Today was their one year anniversary of dating, both the turtles thought it would be a good idea for a dinner date up on the roof at night.

Only their was one problem.

They couldn't find Y/N.

(Would anyone want me)

(If they knew what was inside my head?)

(Would anyone see me)

(For the person that I really am?)

(I won't lie so hard to hide)

They checked her apartment on arrival only to find nothing but a recently used bloody razor on her bathroom sink. Then they checked her bedroom, Donnie found her empty depression med bottle on the floor.

With closer inspection, Donnie found all the pills were emptied out into her trashcan.

(I've never felt worthy of love)

Y/N wasn't taking her meds!

(I would give up everything I have just to feel good enough)

"Leo! Has Y/N been taking her meds like she's suppose to?" Donnie asked his twin with a slight quiver to his voice.

"I think so...why?" Leo ask with hesitation only for Donnie to wave him over as he points to the trash can. Leo's eyes widen as he lets out a gasp.

"She...she hasn't been taking her...why?!" Leo slams a fist against the bedroom wall in anger, not at her but at himself for not checking in on her even more.

"Donnie where do you think she is?" Leo asks his twin, as he eyes the hole in the wall he made himself.

He'll fix that later he reminds himself.

Right now the only thought running through both there minds is where Y/N is at.

"The roof!" Both say is unison.

(Would anyone care)

(Would anyone cry)

(If I finally stepped off of this ledge tonight?)

Witht that they rush outta the apartment and ascend up to the roof, seeing Y/N standing by the very edge.

"Y/N!" Both Leo and Donnie yell out, watching as she slowly turns around to face them both.

('Cause I need a reason to not throw the fight)

"I'm sick of being alive!" She yells out, making both flinch at the tone of her hoarse voice.

Y/N's been crying. They can see her puffy red eyes from where there standing.

"Y/N don't do this!" Donnie yells, as Leo nods in agreement. "We love you Y/N please...keep fighting through the pain!" Leo says as he starts to cry.

She takes a step back, wobbling slightly as she's getting closer to the edge.

(Let me in, let me share in your pain)

(From my lungs through the dark)

(Spoken straight from the heart)

(Let me give you a reason to stay)

"Y/N!" Both yell, there eyes widening as they themselves try to get closer to her.

They need to think of something fast or else they might loose her.

"Mikey's gonna miss how passionately you get when you share your stories that you write!" Leo shouts out, startling Y/N as her eyes widen.

Wait...does he really like my stories? She questions.

"Yeah! What about Raph? You share his same worries over all of us, the both of you make sure were taken care of and we love you both for that!" Donnie yells out, knowing what Leo is trying to do. He'll thank his brother later for the quick thought on this.

They continue to tell Y/N how much they mean to her and how many broken people their would be if she left. They can tell its starting to get to her.

Y/N starts to cry at this.

"Most of all, we love you for being you. You loved us when we never thought anyone could ever love a mutant like us." They both say, making Y/N cry harder. "Come back home Y/N, you can talk to us about how you feel, hell you could move in with us, I'm sure dad wouldn't mind." Leo says a bit rushed.

Y/N stops crying as she stares at the both them, small smiles adorning there face as they hold out their hands to her.

She can't do this, they deserve so much better than her.

With her last ounce of energy she shoots them a small smile, giving them hope that would quickly be taken away.

(Would anyone care)

(Would anyone cry)

(If you finally gave up and turned out the light?)

With that she leans back as she lets herself fall off the ledge of the building.

"Y/N!!" There eyes widen as they both rush forward to try and grab her but they miss.

She stares back at there horror stricken faces through blurred eyes.

The rush of the wind around her feels nice as she's falling to her death.

They deserve better she reminds herself as she allows another smile to grace her face.

Just when she thought she was about to hit the ground a new pressure is being wrapped around her waist?

She opens her eyes that she didnt even know she closed, to see Donnie had grabbed ahold of her, him using his jetpack to save them both. To save Y/N.

Donnie guides them both back up top as he holds her in shaking arms. Leo sees this and comes rushing over to embrace her as well.

"Y/N please...please never do that again! We love you! We don't wanna loose you, you mean the world to us both. You mean the world to April...she sees you as her sister...if you had died...she'd be devasted." Leo says in between sobs as Donnie hums in agreement as he too is crying.

"Let's go home...Donnie can make you stronger meds, and I'm sure your hungry too so Raph can order the pizza. Oh! Mikey can play some of your favorite music that calms you down!" Leo rambles on as Y/N is left alone to her thoughts.

They do care, they do love me, they really would miss me if I left...but I didn't because they saved me.

(Tonight is the night, you take back your life)

(Take back your life)

(Take back your life)

(Take back your life)

"Let's go home...my real home boys." Y/N says as a geniune smile graces her face as both boys kiss the side of her head.

[ptergwen]

through the lens

w/c: 2.3k

warnings: swearing and mentions of blood (all fluff tho!)

summary: yours and peter’s date night doesn’t go as planned, thanks to his “little” accident and mj’s photography project

a/n: it’s been a minute but i’m back! for now lol i promise i’ll be way more active when exam season is over <3 this was based off the lovely pic above taken by the even lovelier zendaya and i hope you enjoy these… let’s call it random workings of my mind

-

“hang on, can you come closer?” mj instructs you, you promptly stepping towards her. “is this good?” “great,” she affirms and squints behind the camera. “smile really big on the count of three, okay? one, two, three!” doing as she says, you give mj your cheesiest grin with your eyes squeezed shut and all. she snickers while snapping the moment on her polaroid.

mj asked you to be her subject for a photography project. you’re happy to do it, although it’s super last minute. like, barging-into-your-room-and-begging-you-for-help last minute. she was supposed to turn this in days ago. lucky for mj, her teacher was feeling generous and gave her an extension.

you have to work fast because of mj’s deadline and your plans with peter. he’s coming over for a movie marathon and cuddles right about now. well, he’s actually running a tad bit late. that’s typical peter for you.

“just a couple more, and then you’re free,” mj informs you while shaking out the polaroid. “this is honestly pretty fun, you know.” you glance at the photo she’s holding with an eyebrow quirked in surprise. she captures you well. “what made you choose me?” “no one else was free on a saturday,” she snorts and tosses the picture in a pile with the rest.

your mouth falls agape. “i’m not free! peter’s gonna be here in…” you check the time on your phone, much to your dismay. “he’s a few minutes late, but still. i have things to do, too.” a smirk sets on mj’s face as she gets ready for the next photograph. “relax, y/n/n. i was kidding. i’m sure spider-dweeb will be here sooner than you know it.” sighing lightheartedly, you take a seat on your bed.

“don’t call him that,” you shake your head. mj throws her own head back to the ceiling. “ugh, but that was a good one,” she insists, you only humming. “it’s better than penis parker, at least.” “nah, i like the alliteration,” you laugh out and earn a giggle from mj. “you’re lucky parker doesn’t have super hearing, or does he?” winking, you hit a pose for mj. you’re looking at her over your shoulder with smolder eyes.

“ask him yourself, after you get this shot.”

the two of you continue messing around with her polaroid until the film is almost gone, and peter has yet to arrive. you’re starting to worry. you aren’t sure where he could be.

he doesn’t patrol on weekends unless it’s an emergency, and he would’ve told you if there was one already. he’s never this late without sending a text, either. it’s almost an hour past when date night should’ve started. on the other occasions peter has gone off the grid, they didn’t end well.

“i’m freaking out, em. do you think he’s in some kind of trouble?” you ask mj, pacing around your bedroom. she offers a sympathetic shrug. “maybe he just ate some bad yogurt. remember last time?” being the dummy he is, peter once scarfed down an entire tub of vanilla yogurt before he realized it was expired. no one heard from him for days. he didn’t show up to school or answer any calls.

may ended up inviting you over and explaining he’d gotten a stomach bug, which you then tended to him for the rest of. the story was so amusing, and so peter.

“may doesn’t buy him dairy anymore. why do you think he always raids your freezer?” you bring your fingers up to rub your temples. “the kid can empty ice cream cartons in one bite,” she agrees, silently cringing. her curiosity piques at the fact. “is that also a power?” “who cares?” you nearly shout, your fingers curling into fists. “what i wanna know is if peter is fucking okay.”

on cue, there’s a knock at your apartment door. you and mj exchange looks of urgency, both rushing out of your room to answer.

mj follows you through the hall and stands by your side while you fumble with the lock. when your door pulls open, ned has his hand raised to knock again. “ned? what are you doing here?” you don’t give him the chance to speak. “have you heard from peter? he was supposed to be here a while ago, but he never showed.” rather than answering in words, ned takes a step aside.

the sight you’re met with makes you gasp. peter peeks out from behind him, cuts and bruises littering his flushed face. he gives you a lopsided smile.

“you have your answer,” mj murmurs to you and eyes ned curiously. he lets out a nervous chuckle. “here he is.” you push past ned and practically jump into peter’s arms, your hug bone-crushing. “peter, oh my god! are you okay?” wincing, peter hugs you back by your waist. his chin rests carefully on your head.

“hey… i’m alright, baby. still pretty sore, though,” he sucks his lower lip between his teeth. you take the hint to loosen your grip on him. “i was worried something bad might’ve happened to you. i… i guess i was right.” your tone softens, you threading a hand in his curls. they’re completely disheveled from whatever went down with him.

ned heads inside to catch up with mj, the two of them letting you have a moment alone.

“someone’s got a spidey sense of their own, huh?” peter tries to lighten the mood by joking. it doesn’t work, a frown still evident on your face as you try to untangle his once soft locks. “baby, everything’s fine. i just… had a little accident is all. no big deal,” he reassures you and moves in to peck your lips. you’re so shocked that you dodge the kiss.

“little? your whole face is black and blue, pete!” you tug on the white collar of his button up, peter letting out a shaky breath. your other hand comes to rest on his cheek, touch gentle. “how’d you get like this?” he licks across his lips shyly and sets his hands on your hips. “see, on the way over there were these bad guys who-“

“no there weren’t,” ned cuts in, scoffing at the beginning of his friend’s story. peter shoots him a warning look over your head. “yes there were, ned. you weren’t even there!” he catches mj glaring at him before he continues. “don’t listen to him. anyway, i had to fight them because…” when he trails off, you stroke your thumb across his cheek, avoiding any wounds in the way. raising both eyebrows, mj speaks up.

“because why? go on, parker. i’m intrigued,” she encourages him. everyone can tell peter is lying except you. the question really is, what’s he lying about? he gulps down his spit, pulling your body against his for comfort. “take your time, peter. we can wait,” you say only for him to hear. his love filled eyes meet yours, and he nods. ned huffs at the dramatics unfolding before him.

“dude, you’re making this way worse than it actually is. just tell her!” he demands, mj cocking her head to the side. peter’s gaze flits between the two of them. “tell me what?” you wonder softly and tilt his chin, willing him to look at you again. “i… i…” peter’s shoulders slump, his voice lowering in defeat. “there weren’t any bad guys.”

“of course there weren’t,” ned confirms. “no shit,” mj adds. exhaling, you wait for your boyfriend to further elaborate. “what really happened, then? be honest, pete.” peter lets go of you so he can come into your apartment properly, you shutting the door behind him. he scratches the back of his neck as he fills you in. “ok. um, me and ned were hanging out.”

ned is attempting to stifle a laugh for some reason, which mj elbows him for. you take one of peter’s hands. “yeah?” “we were at my place, and… you know those really slippery steps on the sixth floor?” peter pauses for someone to answer, playing with your fingers. “the ones flash almost wiped out on once?” mj questions in amusement. he lets a quiet chuckle out. “good times. yeah, those.”

his gaze averts to the ground, you listening on. “so, i was walking ned out on my way over. we were talking about spidey stuff-“ “as per usual,” mj mumbles to herself. ned raises his hands in defense. “—and i told ned i could always stick my landings. he didn’t believe me.” you playfully roll your eyes, seeing where this is going. “so… i, uh, decided to show him,” peter finishes off.

“i did a, um, backflip. tripped and fell down the flight of stairs,” he finally admits to you, putting his other hand on top of your intertwined ones. “clearly, i was wrong.” his bloody face is now red from humiliation. “you didn’t trip, dude. you freaking summersaulted!” ned corrects him and bursts into laughter he’s been holding back. “idiots, both of you,” mj simply remarks.

“that’s it? why didn’t you just say that?” you almost laugh yourself. groaning, peter rests his forehead against yours. “because it’s embarrassing! i wanted you to think i’m a tough guy or whatever.” placing both hands on his cheeks this time, you nuzzle your nose against his. “you don’t have to be a tough guy to impress me, babes. you’re kind, smart, funny. makes up for you being such a klutz.”

peter cracks a grin, easily capturing your lips in the kiss he didn’t get to before. it doesn’t last long because mj gags and ned whistles at you. you’re both giggling when you pull apart, peter kissing the tip of your nose for good measure.

“you really mean that?” he checks, tucking back a strand of hair from your face. “of course. i have a thing for himbos,” you tease and poke at his bare chest. his eyes widen. “how about i get you some ice and you find our first movie?” you’re already off to the kitchen, beaming at peter. “date night’s still on?” he happily plops down on your couch, mj showing ned her pictures from earlier.

“as soon as those two get out of here,” you call loudly enough so ned and mj hear you. “yeah, yeah. we’re leaving,” mj deadpans, shoving the photos back into her portfolio. peter glances over at it curiously. “what’s that for?” “photography project,” she says and gets an idea. “i have some film left. y/n took up most of it… you losers want the rest?”

while mj coerces her way to a higher grade, you put some popcorn in the microwave for your movie marathon.

“well, i could use a new lockscreen. i’m in!” ned quickly concedes. him and mj both give peter hopeful looks. “i’m not!” he protests, squishing one of your pillows against his chest. “with my face looking like… this? forget about it.” mj walks over to him and places her portfolio on the coffee table. “what? those gashes are gnarly… in a good way, i mean,” she promises.

“painful, too,” peter murmurs. “y/n, hurry up with that ice!” mj demands, grabbing the polaroid camera from its string around her neck. you wave her off. “what i’m saying is, they’ll look sick in my portfolio.” mj forces a smile, ned looking at her weirdly. “uh, what’s the theme of your project again?” “freestyle, baby,” mj casually replies.

peter comes up with a condition that could persuade him. “if you say please, i might consider it,” he concludes, mj perking up. “please be in my project. pretty please?” she instantly requests, ned pursing his lips from behind her. peter rubs his chin. “y/n, what do you think? should i?” you pipe in from the kitchen. “yeah, so she’ll leave my house.”

“you heard the lady. i’ll do it,” peter gives in. all but squealing, mj gestures for ned to sit. “this’ll only take a few minutes. you guys are really saving my ass.” ned gets comfortable next to peter on the couch, who wants to see how far mj will really go. “aw, we are? i believe that calls for a…” ned catches on. “it comes after please…” mj picks up her camera with gritted teeth. “thank you, morons. say cheese!”

that’s the only warning peter and ned get before they’re blinded with the flash. ned does a toothy grin as he leans into peter’s side. peter musters up the best smile he can, hair a mess and cuts burning pink on his face. satisfied, mj snatches the photograph as it pops out.

“pleasure doing business with you two,” she states, you joining the three of them in the living room. you set the popcorn on the table and give peter his ice pack. he presses it to his cheek, kissing the back of your hand. “send me that!” ned reminds mj, helping himself to your bowl of popcorn. she salutes him.

“there’s my star. what do you say, y/n? wanna take one more really quick?” mj suggests, already holding up her polaroid. you take the other cushion next to peter, your head on his shoulder. “can peter be in it with me? since he’s in the modeling mood tonight.” he wraps an arm tightly around you. “let’s do it, sweetness.”

eagerly jumping in front of you two, mj crouches down to get a better angle. “on the count of three. one, two, three!” the camera clicks, and you surprise peter by laying a smooch on one of his cheeks. he’s holding the ice against his other, genuinely smiling for this picture. ned coos at you, mj showing off her work when it dries.

“how adorable,” she says sarcastically but means it. peter nods at her in appreciation, his lips brushing the side of your head. “what can i say, you’re a pro,” you compliment mj. “come on, em!” ned cheers through a mouthful of popcorn.

tonight was an unexpected and exciting mess, even if your date night did get crashed.

[rocorambles]

Perfect

Pairing: Akaashi x Reader

Genre/Warnings: NSFW, Yandere, Toxic Relationships, Manipulation, Non-Con/Dub-Con, Forced Impregnation

Prompt: “I told you to stay still”

Summary: The perfect couple always has children. Multiple children. A full family. A house full of laughter and home-cooked meals. And you two are the epitome of a perfect couple. So why are you still so hesitant about taking the next big step?

Author’s Note: This is my contribution for my HQ Discord Server’s NSFW collaboration. There are so many talented writers on the server and I highly encourage you to check out the collaboration masterlist here to see how everyone decided to run with this spicy prompt. (Masterlist goes live Tuesday 6th October 11:00pm U.K. time!) 

Akaashi’s always been an overthinker. He can admit that. He knows it’s a flaw he’s always had and could never seem to shake off. But just because he realizes it doesn’t mean he does anything about it. And the overwhelming pressure he places on himself in everything he does only fuels the suffocating thoughts until they’re screaming in his head. Unfortunately for you, his sweet darling wife, that only means terrible things for you and suddenly every move you make is alarming, every word you say is suspicious, every breath you take painstakingly monitored. 

Akaashi just wants to be the perfect husband, the perfect lover, the perfect provider. He wants the two of you to be the perfect happily married couple, to live the perfect domestic life. So after years of playing house, of devoting all his attention and love on you, of spoiling you rotten with everything you could possibly want, when you tell him you aren’t ready to have children yet, he feels his cool facade slip and the incessant thoughts begin to drown him. 

The perfect couple always has children. Multiple children. A full family. A house full of laughter and home-cooked meals. And you two are the epitome of a perfect couple. So why are you still so hesitant about taking the next big step? Are you tired of him? Do you not want to have kids with him? Are you planning on leaving him? 

You nervously shift from foot to foot, intimidated by the chaos you see in blue eyes and you tentatively reach out to your husband, trying to understand what’s wrong, but you sigh in relief as he jolts at your touch, staring blankly at you before setting his face back to its usual serene countenance, slightly smiling at you as he nods in understanding and affectionately kisses your forehead. This is the Akaashi you’d fallen in love with and you happily sigh as you wrap your arms around his waist, letting yourself be rocked in his arms in a warm embrace, ignorant of how his face hardens as soon as his chin is tucked above your head, eyes thoughtful, mind scheming. 

It takes some coaxing, some patient conversations during your most vulnerable moments when you were still groggily rubbing the sleep out of your eyes or yawning as you lay your head on the pillow to sleep at night, but he finally gets his answers and he smiles in endearment as you worry about whether or not you’re ready to be a mom. Would you even be a good mom? Oh. He’s sure you’re going to be the perfect mother and he makes a mental note to prove that to you until you see it for yourself, but he’s grateful for the darkness that hides his grimace when you go on to talk about how you also want to focus on your career for now. It’s not that Akaashi is against women working. He doesn’t hate how happy and fulfilled you feel as you ramble on and on about work, about your coworkers, about your salary and title. He just thinks you’d be even more perfect as his pretty little housewife and he quietly plans and strategizes as your breathing gets heavier and heavier until you’re fast asleep besides him on your shared bed. 

He waits until your chest rises and falls in even rhythms before reaching over for your phone. You’ve always been so trusting, probably too trusting of him, but that works in his favor now as he flawlessly types in your password and dives into your alarms and work emails. A swipe there, a deletion here. He meticulously combs through your phone turning off your alarms, deleting important meetings, getting rid of urgent emails waiting for your response before he quietly places your phone on the nightside table by you, pleased with his work and he closes his own eyes, a small smile on his face as he peacefully sleeps. 

Luckily, he leaves for work much earlier than you, so he’s out the door before you can even realize the messy day you’re about to have and he can’t be blamed for not waking you up when your alarm doesn’t go off. He patiently waits and waits, glancing at his phone every now and then, waiting for the onslaught of panicked and distressing texts he knows you’ll send his way as your day gets progressively worse and worse. And sure enough, his phone vibrates over and over again as you send a flurry of texts steeped in negative emotions and like the perfect husband he is, he sends the consoling and comforting notes you need. And when you call, crying and sobbing about being yelled at, about how awful at your job you are, he’s there to soothe you. 

“Don’t cry, love. It’s not your fault. You’re an amazing woman. Maybe this just isn’t the right job for you or the right company for you.” 

He plants the seeds of doubt in your mind and you let them be watered by the sweet suggestions he sprinkles on you. And with just a few more flicks of his wrist in the middle of the night when you’re asleep, ignorant of your phone being used without your knowledge, and a little bit of time, you’re finally fired and he’s there, rushing back home to wrap you in his arms. But he smiles when instead of being distraught, you merely sit there quietly as you tuck yourself against him. 

“Maybe this just wasn’t the right job for me, Keiji.”

He encourages you to take some time off from the workforce. You had worked so hard for so long. You deserve a break. And you mindlessly nod along to his silky voice. Relaxing does sound nice. You had thrown yourself into your job so much that you’d forgotten what it was like to have so much free time and you begin to excitedly ponder what hobbies you could pick up to fill the days, what projects around the house you could finally get done.    

Akaashi sighs when his alarm goes off the next morning, but he sits up in confusion when the smell of freshly brewed coffee wafts through the air and he blearily turns to your side of the bed, freezing when he finds it empty. But his groggy mind begins to put two and two together and he rushes towards the kitchen where he feels like his heart might burst at the sight of you humming, an apron daintily wrapped around you as you pour a generous amount of dark caffeine in his favorite mug. And he can’t stop himself from closing the distance between you as he tenderly wraps you in his arms, turning you around until you’re face to face as he captures your lips in a good morning kiss. He wants every morning to be like this, he thinks, as he mentally captures the image of you smiling and waving goodbye to him from the apartment door. The perfect loving wife seeing her husband off.

You spend your long days at home tidying up the house, decorating spaces in the house you’d always wanted to spruce up but never had time to before, spending hours in the kitchen cooking and baking everything you’d always wanted to try. It’s nice to fall into a domestic rhythm with Akaashi and work is far from your mind as you cheerily greet your husband when he comes home, as the two of you pleasantly chat while he eats the piping hot delicious meal you’ve prepared for him, as he hand feeds you the brownies you had made as the two of you sit on the couch and watch a show together.

But as time goes on, you find yourself twiddling your thumbs a bit with just a little too much idle time on your hand now that the interior of the apartment is exactly up to your dream standards of cleanliness and decor. And you can’t help but wonder how nice it would be to have a small child running about the place, keeping you company while Akaashi is away at work. You freeze when the thought crosses your mind and your brows furrow in confusion. Where had that thought come from? You’d never wanted kids before. And yet...You quickly shove that fleeting idea to the back of your mind as you refold laundry that had already been handled, throwing yourself into anything that could distract you from the strange desires plaguing your mind. 

Little do you know how much Akaashi has influenced you in the time you’ve been stuck at home. Little do you know that the daily evening walks he takes you on after dinner are always purposefully done around the nearby children parks. Little do you know that the little comments and remarks he makes about how adorable that child is, how silly this child is aren’t as offhand as you think. They’re strategically strung together words just for you and he slightly smiles when he sees them weaving through your mind as your eyes soften and a longing smile begins to tug at your lips when you turn to look at what he’s talking about. Little do you know that it’s no accident when the two of you go shopping and find yourselves passing aisles of children’s toys and clothing. And Akaashi feels his chest tighten with affection when you unconsciously skim your fingers over the tiny shoes and onesies, asking him for his opinions. 

“Aren’t these cute, Keiji?” 

And he nods his head as he reaches down to hold your hand, interlacing his fingers with yours as you continue perusing. 

He knows he almost has you right where he wants you. He can almost see the cogs turning in your head, see you imagining a life with him and a family...your own little family. It’s time for the final step and he secretly keeps tabs on the convenient period tracking app you have on your phone waiting and waiting until your next ovulation period and when it comes, you squeal in surprise when he impatiently whisks you off to your shared bedroom and presses you down onto the bed as soon as he steps into the house after work. 

His movements are so hurried, so rough, so unlike how Akaashi normally is, but you eagerly reciprocate, excited to see this side of your husband and you’re a moaning, writhing mess as he bites and sucks every inch of your skin, a trail of red skin following in his wake as he marks up your neck, collarbones, and breasts. You’re already dripping wet by the time he finally reaches down to rub your clit and slip his fingers inside of you and your hips buck up into his touch, urging him for more. Your head is swirling with lust and you whine when he briefly slips away to guide the tip of his cock against your leaking hole and you shudder in desire when you feel him running his tip along your slit. But even in your dazed state, you feel yourself hesitate a bit when you see that he isn’t using a condom. 

“Keiji, I’m ovulating. You need to use a cond- AH!”

You’re cut off as he slides his cock inside of you, your slick walls greedily sucking him in with little resistance and you try to muster up the words to repeat yourself, but you can’t articulate anything as he leans down to suck a perky nipple as he begins to thrust in and out of you in a sensual, but thorough pattern, making sure you can feel every inch of him rubbing against your clenching walls, making sure you can feel him sink balls deep inside of him, making sure you can feel him stimulate the spongy spot inside of you that has you seeing stars. And you give up, trusting that he’d at least pull out before he cums, and you lose yourself to the feeling of being so used and filled, feeling the coil in your stomach grow tighter and tighter, and when blue eyes gaze down at you and he hungrily leans down to capture your lips in a searing kiss, you fall over the edge, your pleasured wails swallowed by your husband’s lips as he chases his own end. 

You lay there in mind numbing bliss as he continues to sink in and out of your tight heat, letting out little mewls of overstimulation, but when you feel the erratic rhythm of his thrusts and you see the telltale look on his face as he closes his eyes that indicate he’s close and he makes no attempt to pull out, you weakly shake his shoulders, squirming and wriggling your body from underneath him as you try to pull away. 

“K-Keiji, NGH you can cum on me. Okay? AH B-but, you can’t cum inside me.” 

You scream when large hands roughly grab your waist in a bruising grip and forcefully pull you down until he’s fully inside you once again. 

“Stay still.” 

You whimper, trying to be good for him, but anxiety is beginning to cloud your pleasure and you struggle once again, pleading with him and telling him you don’t want to get pregnant. But you keen when that only spurs him on to fuck you rougher, harder, deeper and your eyes roll back as you try to register the almost painful overstimulation you’re going through. 

“I told you to stay still.” 

And this time you do stay still, unable to do anything else but lay there like a good obedient wife as he pistons in and out of you, your mouth open in a persistent silent scream as your hands desperately scramble to find purchase in the rumpled bed sheets and you brokenly moan when he finally shoves inside of you with one final thrust and your stomach feels hot as spurts of liquid spill inside of you.

You’re in shock as he stays buried inside of you, trapping your body with his as he lays down on top of you, nuzzling and kissing the crook of your neck as he keeps his cum inside of you and you’re not sure how much time passes as you just lay there, mind blank as you try to come to terms with what had just happened. But when you feel his cock begin to twitch and harden inside of you once more, you frantically try to push him away from you, try to separate yourself from him. 

“Keiji, stop it! I need to go get Plan B or something. I-” 

Your mind is a chaotic swirl as you try to figure out next steps to avoid this unwanted pregnancy and you think you might throw up at the idea of being pregnant, having a child, all so suddenly, so fast. 

You’re not ready. You’re not ready. You’re not ready. 

Your thoughts are shattered to pieces when you’re shoved back down onto the mattress and you loudly wail when Akaashi begins an unforgiving pace once again, brutally slamming his hips into yours, his cum acting as lubrication, making it easier for him to plow into you and take you over and over again. And the last coherent thought you have is that you were such a fool to not realize just how much stronger, how much larger Akaashi is compared to you as your attempts to shake him off are easily ignored by the man above you. 

You don’t know how much time has passed. It feels like an eternity and you’re not sure how you’re still conscious as Akaashi breeds you over and over again. Your mouth is open in a persistent silent scream, your eyes are rolled so far back in your head you can barely see, tears and drool mar your face. Everything feels so good, too good, and you can’t stop sobbing from the overwhelming pleasure you feel as Akaashi keeps on spilling load after load of sticky white liquid inside of you and you curl into Akaashi’s body instinctively for comfort when he sinks down on top of you, exhaustion finally catching up with him. And the two of you just lay there, chests heaving as you both heavily pant, his flaccid cock still buried inside of you, plugging his cum inside of you. And even though you want to yell at him, to be angry at him for forcing this on you, you’re so spent, head empty of anything except for Akaashi that you let yourself be maneuvered until you’re both on your sides, facing each other, your lower bodies still intimately connected. 

You let out a little whimper when you feel a large hand gently stroke your cum-filled stomach, but you can feel your face and body grow hot when his other hand gently nudges your chin up to look at him and you see the look of pure love and adoration in his eyes. 

“You’re going to look so beautiful with your belly bulging with my children, our children.” 

You let out a breathy gasp when he teasingly fondles one of your pebbled nipples and palms your fleshy mound. 

“You’re going to look so beautiful when these swell up with milk. I wonder if our children would be willing to share some with their father.” 

Sweet word after word spills from his lips and you listlessly lay there listening to him go on and on, painting a picture of what your future lives together would look like, and before you can catch yourself from falling deeper into his trap, your mind betrays you and images flash across your vision and you unconsciously draw even nearer to Akaashi, cuddling into his body affectionately as picture perfect scenes of you braiding a little girl’s hair while Akaashi teaches a little boy how to play volleyball flicker across your imagination. And when Akaashi feels you gently place your hand on top of his hand that’s still cradling your stomach practically sloshing with the amount of liquid he’s gifted you with tonight, he knows he’s got you hook, line, and sinker. 

That night the two of you fall asleep, dreaming about the perfect life you’re going to have together.

[americancowgirl19]

My Home

Summary: You’ve loved Newt since you were both in school. He’s loved you back as well and will continue to love you even when you return from the war different.

Warnings: fluff, angst, ptsd

Reader: Male Slytherin Reader

Pairings: Newt Scamander x Male Reader

Word Count: 3,812

A/n: Enjoy

Masterlist

You had ambitions when you were growing up. You wanted to be important, you wanted to be rich. You wanted to capture the attention of every room you walked into. You didn’t want to spend the rest of your life living in the slums you had grown up in.

When you got your letter for Hogwarts you became excited. You were sorted into Slytherin, which didn’t surprise anybody who knew you.

You were as smart as you were ambitious. You knew if you were to have the life you envisioned then you had to do well in school. As your classmates tried out for Quidditch, you were studying Charms. As others went on dates, you were in the library.

You had a few friends but mainly kept to yourself. The last thing you wanted was to get attached to anybody and have them get in the way of your grand plan. But life hardly ever works out the way you want it.

Your friends had convinced you to take a day off from your studies to swim in the Black Lake. It was a beautiful day and you agreed. When your group was within rage, they hooted and hollered as they raced for the water. You smirk, rolling your eyes as they dove into the lake leaving you with the towels and shirts.

You moved closer to the water and tossed what you were carrying on the ground. Movement to your left, by the trees that were near the water, gained your attention. You saw two students sitting in the shade. You could barely make out their uniforms but noted that one was a Slytherin while the other was a Hufflepuff. An odd friendship but one that didn’t bother you like it bothered some of your other housemates. 

You found yourself observing him them for longer than you intended. The girl merely spared your friend group a glance before looking back to what she was doing. The boy, however, was staring. It took you a moment to realize his gaze was toward your direction. When you realized this, a cocky smirk came to your lips.

Your fingers grabbed the the edges of your shirt. You pulled it off, stretching your muscles dramatically. You didn’t have the best body, especially compared to some of your friends, but as long as he was looking why not give him something to look at?

When your eyes went back to him, he was looking away. It disappointed you but you shrugged it off and joined your friends in the lake. You periodically glanced towards the two under the tree. The last time you looked, they were gone.

The next time you saw the boy under the tree was about a month later in the library. You were looking for a book when you stumbled into him as you went down another row. He was sitting at one of the tables. His head was in his notes and his eyebrows were frowned.

You found yourself staring at him again. He was so focused on what he was doing he didn’t even notice. Your eyes looked over his freckles, his blonde hair and his pale skin.

Unable to help yourself, you take a seat near him. He glances at you before looking down at his book. You bite back a smirk when his eyes quickly return to you. Then it becomes evident that he’s trying not to look at you.

You’re just about to get the courage to talk to him when his Slytherin friend comes around the corner. You inwardly curse yourself for taking too long but at least you heard her say his name.

Newt.

Once you had his name, it wasn’t hard for you to find out quite a bit about him. Apparently Newt was infamously known around Hogwarts for his love of magical creatures and his close friendship with Leta Lestrange. He was a few years younger than you but it didn’t bother you. You wanted to know him.

Getting him to talk to you was almost as difficult as it was for you to get him to be comfortable around you. It took you months to get him to be relaxed in your company. Took you a little longer for him to prefer your company to Leta’s. 

You weren’t a big fan of Leta. She was selfish and wanted Newt to herself. You knew there was a part of her that cared for Newt but her ambition matched yours and not in a good way.

You hated that Newt was obviously in love with her when he should be in love with you. Newt had your attention the second you saw him by the lake. You wanted him and you were hoping to gain his favor but wasn’t expecting it to be this hard. However, anything worth having is worth working for. 

Although, there has always been a little doubt that you’d never get Newt to look at you the way he stares at Leta. It was barely a decade into the 20th century. Same sex couples weren’t exactly welcome, even in the wizarding world. You didn’t let that stop you from trying.

“These are bowtukles?” You asked, grinning a bit bashfully when Newt was giving you his adorable amused look.

“Bowtruckle,” Newt corrected you. You continue to stare at his face even when he looks away. 

“Bowtruckle,” You whisper, grinning when you see his cheeks redden. The reaction gives you hope that just maybe he’s into you.

“They erm... They eat insects and um... they’re shy,” Newt mumbles, avoiding your gaze as he explains what he knows about the creature crawling in your hand.

“No wonder they like you so much,” You tell him. “You’re one and the same,” Newt looks at you sheepishly. “You’re both shy but I don’t think you eat insects, at least I’ve never seen you eat them,”

“Heh, no,” Newt shakes his head, fiddling with his fingers. 

“But you’re both adorable,” You blurt. This time, it’s you avoiding eye contact. You clear your throat and shift a bit awkwardly. You were smart, you were ambitious, but for the love of Merlin you could hardly flirt.

But like many things, even if you weren’t good at something it didn’t stop you from doing it. You were a bad singer but you still sang if it cheered Newt up when he was feeling down. You were horrible with creatures but you tried because Newt would always light up when he got to teach you something. You weren’t the greatest at romance but you still tried to woo Newt.

In your eyes, you were hardly making progress but Newt saw things differently. He may have been infatuated with Leta before he knew you but then you were the one capturing his attention. He looked forward to being around you. He wasn’t so anxious with you. If he was, it was a good anxious.

It wouldn’t be until your last year, his 5th year, did you finally get the courage to do something about your feelings for him.

You took him to Hogsmeade. It didn’t occur to Newt that this was a date until the end of the night. The whole time he thought the two of you were just hanging out and that you were being overly flirtatious.

Then you kissed him.

He was talking as you two were walking back to Hogwarts. A nervous ramble. One you would normally listen to but there was something else on your mind. 

There was no-one around. He was being his adorable self and all you wanted to do was plant one on his lips. So, you did.

It was a quick peck. You pulled back just as quick as you moved in. It was enough, however, to gain his attention. You both stopped walking and he turned to you in a sort of daze. You gnawed on your lower lip and watched his expression carefully.

His face was completely red and he was looking everywhere else. You would have been scared he didn’t like it if it wasn’t for the smile threatening to rip his face in two.

You did a quick glance around to see if anybody was around before turning back to Newt when you were reassured the two of you were still alone. Slowly, you wrapped your hand around the back of his neck. His eyes snap back toward you. You steps closer to him.

“Tell me to stop,” You whispers, gently pressing your forehead on his. When he remains silent, you connect your lips on his once again. This time you go slowly. You smirk just a bit when his hands grab your jacket. You pull him closer, resting your other hand on his hip.

Technically, you two never became official but he was yours and you were his. Leta was the only one who knew about your relationship and you had not so kindly threatened her to keep it quiet. You weren’t about to allow her to use your relationship with Newt for her own gain. As much as you wished she would just stay away you knew you wouldn’t be able to get rid of her because Newt still cared about her.

Your happiness with Newt only lasted a few months until trouble came. 

“It wasn’t your fault! Why are you taking the blame?” You growled, following Newt to the Hufflepuff common room.

“Leta doesn’t deserve to be expelled-”

“And you do?” You ask, raising your eyebrows. “Love, you had nothing to do with the accident, don’t take the blame.”

“It’s already done, there’s no taking it back,” Newt told you. “I’ll be alright,” He promises, glancing at you. “I’ll go live with mum and learn more about creatures. Maybe get a job at the ministry in a few years,” He shrugs. The two of you come to a stop just in front of the doorway. “They’re letting me keep my wand,” He mumbles looking on the bright side. You sighed, staring down at your boyfriend.

“You know, I can leave too,” You suggested. Newt’s eyes snap to yours. “I can go with you and we can go on those adventures you told me about. Discover some creature together,” Newt shakes his head, your smile falters.

“You’re too close to graduation to leave,” Newt says. “I’ll be fine on my own for a couple of months. Graduate then come find me... if you want,” He tells you. You sigh but don’t put up a fight knowing that graduating would help your future more than if you left with Newt now.

“Fine, but don’t miss me too much, yeah?” Newt returns to his sheepish self causing you to grin. Not caring if anyone saw, you grab his chin and direct his lips to yours. “I’ll find you on the other side handsome,”

When Newt left school grounds, you confronted Leta. You made it clear that she was to stay away from Newt and yourself. When she tried to talk back, things got a little more intense. 

You hadn’t intended to send her to the medical wing, though you didn’t regret it. All you wanted was to scare her. You succeeded but also received detention for the remainder of your Hogwarts year.

When you graduated, you sought Newt out like you promised. The letters the two of you exchanged wasn’t enough, you wanted to be with him.

His mother welcomed you with open arms while his brother was more hesitant. One, he didn’t know what he thought about the two of you together, and two, he was being the protective older brother.

You stayed with the Scamander's instead of returning to your family home. Your home was on the other side of the country. Plus it was crowded because your entire family shared a little cottage. Newt’s mother allowed you to live with them because once you got a job you were able to help pay for things. You were given a separate room from Newt’s but that didn’t mean you two weren’t spending nights together.

“You should be more careful, love,” You muttered quietly as you tended to his wounded arm. One of the hippogriffs that he helped take care of had scratched up his arm.

“I’m fine,” Newt insisted. 

“I should have become a doctor,” You mused. “I have a feeling this isn’t going to be the last time I patch you up,” Newt smiles a bit. By the time you were done, his arm was as good as new. 

Being a doctor surely would have helped you with the ‘get rich’ part of your plan. But you had other ideas. You were in the process of starting your own business. It was slowly taking off and your name was beginning to spread throughout England. Both wizards and muggles were beginning to learn who you were.

However, you took a few lessons on simple medical procedures in order to help keep Newt in one piece. It paid off because as you predicted, Newt needed patching up more than once. You wouldn’t have thought that such a quiet man like him would get into so much mischief. All for the love of his creatures.

The two of you had a plan. Newt wanted to travel and do research. You wanted to travel and expand your growing business. Why not travel together? It was the perfect plan for the both of you until Archduke Franz Ferdinand was assassinated.

You and Newt were sharing a bed a week after England declared war. Neither of you were talking. You were propped up against the wall with Newt’s back against your chest. Your arm was draped across his collarbones and his hand was cradling your forearm. Your other hand traced his bare stomach while his rested on your thigh.

You were leaving in the morning for training. Newt didn’t want you to go but you couldn’t sit this out. You were going to join the army while Newt fought the war his own way with the ministry. 

“I love you, you know that?” You whisper in his ear. Your lips gently press against his head. He hums leaning back against you. You nuzzle your head in his neck and hold him tightly. 

“You’ll come back to me,” Newt states, though his voice wavers. You flip your position so that he’s on his back and you’re hovering over him.

“You’re my home, Newt Scamander,” You tell him. “I’ll always come back to you,” You promise. He lifts his head and you lowers yours. Your lips connect as your body settles between his legs. You grind your hips into his earning a quiet moan from him.

In the morning, you left with Theseus. The two of you would serve in the same company. It was nice to know you would go through this with someone you knew. He may not have liked you at first but by the time the war came around, you two were friends.

“So, Thes... Have anyone waiting for you back home?” You asked, sitting in the muddy trench with him. You two were friends but that didn’t mean you talked about everything. By the time you moved in with Newt and their mother, Theseus had already moved out. He only visited here and there.

But now, you two were together every day. You had grown closer than you were before. Though, it’s not like you had much else to do during down time than to talk with him. He was from home, he was familiar. You were in a land unfamiliar fighting against unfamiliar people.

“You wouldn’t like her,” Theseus told you. You raised your eyebrow at him. 

“I know her?” You ask, he nods. You continue to stare at him until he caves.

“Leta Lestrange,” He admits. You instantly groan. “She’s told me about you... You two have quite the history,”

“So, she can’t have Newt so she goes for the older brother,” You mutter under your breath.

“She’s not a whore,” He growls defensively. You bite back a sarcastic comment. Theseus lowers his gaze as he pulls out a picture of her. You glance at it before pulling out your own picture of Newt.

“Do you think we’ll make it out of this? Get back to them?” You ask, looking at him. Theseus meets your gaze.

“If we stick together? The Germans don’t stand a chance,” Theseus smirks. You soon begin to return the smirk.

After four years of being stuck in the mud in some other country you and Theseus finally returned home. Theseus returned to his lady love while you went to Newt. He was at the ministry when you returned. You visited him in his office.

“Wow, your own nook in the corner with a window,” You commented standing in the doorway. Newt’s head snaps up. “Hello, love,” You say, entering the room. You closed the door as he stood up and came to you.

When his arms wrapped around you you felt as if you were safe for the first time in four years. Your body sagged in against his but he held you close. You nuzzle your head into his neck seeking his comfort. 

“You’re home,” He whispers. “You came back,”

“I’ll always come back to you,” You mutter into his neck. 

When you finally pull away from him, Newt told his boss he was going home. Nobody argued with him. You both apparated back to his place. He had moved out of his mothers home a couple of years into the war but you didn’t care. All you wanted was to spend the night in his arms.

He laid on the bed with your head on his chest and your body between his legs. Your eyes stayed locked on the wall as his heart beat filled your ears. His fingers combed through your hair, lulling you to sleep.

While the little sleep you got was more than you had in four years, it wasn’t anywhere near peaceful. You may have left France but France followed you home. The bullets, the fighting, the artillery shells, the fucking smell, everything stayed with you.

You weren’t the only one suffering from the effects of the war. Your business suffered and your relationship became strained. You pushed Newt away, you pushed everyone away and fell into the bottle.

Although, no matter what you did, Newt never left. He took your mood swings, your anger, everything and stayed by your side. You didn’t deserve him.

After a couple of years of putting up with you, you finally ask Newt why he never left.

It was a rough night. You had been sleeping on the couch for a while because of bad nightmares. You didn’t want to keep Newt awake or hurt him in your thrashing. But tonight, you couldn’t get any sleep.

There was a storm raging outside. Thunder so loud the home was shaking. You were working on finishing a bottle of whiskey. When the lightning flashes and another round of thunder rolls, you flinch and let out a shaky breath.

You didn’t even realize that you were muttering to yourself. You were trying to remind yourself that you were home, in England. You were safe, not fighting in the trenches.

You didn’t even notice Newt observing you. He watched you clutch the glass of whiskey like a lifeline. He noticed you fidget. He knew you had struggled since you returned home but no matter what he did, you wouldn’t let him help you.

You were startled from your thoughts by the sound of a record playing. You look up to see Newt turning to you. You try to compose yourself. Newt had seen you at your worst, multiple times, but that didn’t mean you enjoyed showing him this side of you.

You wished you could go back to when you were both at Hogwarts, to a time before the war. You wanted to go back to when things were easy and effortless. You wanted to love Newt and give him everything he deserved not burden him.

When he held his hand out to you, you were tempted to grab a fuller bottle of whiskey and find another room to occupy. But as another round of thunder sounds, all you want to do is be in his arms. It’s the only place where you can be positive you’re safe.

You set the bottle down and take his hand. You stand and nuzzle into his neck. Your hand clings to his as your arm wraps around his back. He sways the two of you and hums in your ear.

“Why haven’t you left me?” You wonder out loud.

“I love you,” He whispers.

“I’m broken,” You tell him.

“Then I love every piece of you,” He mutters. “You’re my home as much as I’m yours,” He leans his head against yours trying to provide you as much comfort as he can. “I know I can’t take your pain and suffering away but maybe I can lessen it,” He whispers to you. “Just let me in... I can handle it. I can help carry whatever it is that’s weighing you down,”

“I don’t want to drag you down with me,” You say, starting to pull away but underestimate his strength. He holds you against him.

“I don’t care where you drag me, I just want to be with you. Let me in, please,” He begs, cupping your cheeks. “I love you and nothing will change that. I’ve stayed with you all these years because I want too and I’ll stay with you for the rest of our lives, even if you push me away. Don’t push me away anymore,”

“I’m sorry,” You whisper, pressing your head against his. “It’s just... my head’s so loud and...” You sigh. You hated talking about this but Newt deserved to have some kind of understanding. “Everything reminds me of the way... Even the fucking thunder,” You grumble.

“Then focus on me... when it gets too much,” Newt mutters.

“You hate attention,” You whisper.

“Not from you,” Newt counters. “I’ve always wanted your attention,” He tells you. You give him a small smile. “I was thinking about starting up my travels for that book I mentioned... I want you to come with me,”

“Are you sure?” You ask. “I can stay here-”

“I want you with me,” He tells you. “You can spread your business or just come along for the ride. Patch me up when I need you,” Your smile widens a bit. “IF things get too much, you can ride in my case,” You let out a small laugh.

“You still have that bloody case?” Newt blushes a bit and nods. “Alright, love... I’ll come with you,” Newt perks up and connects your lips quickly. You laugh before kissing him back. “You’re perfect, Newt Scamander, and I love you”

[wolferine]

Unforgivable - Part 2

Natasha Romanoff x Reader

Summary: When the reader loses their temper, it causes them to commit an act they can never take back...

Warnings: Violence, blood, torture, death

Word count: 2372

Part 1

Tags: @yeetus-thyself @phoenixofash @lilclownx @yeeterthekeeper @alessiapn @diaryoflife

AN: Please read to the end before you come after me. :)

Everything is a blur. The last thing you remember is cradling Natasha in your lap and seeing the pain of betrayal in her eyes. You did this to her. You couldn’t control your anger and now she had a bullet—shot out of your gun—in her back. You hurt her and there was no way you could ever forgive yourself for that. 

You finally let Tony get close enough to take care of her, because you realized you don’t deserve her anymore. 

You run away from the Avengers Tower, your leg slowing you down, but you don’t care. Each step feels like a knife rubbing against your bone, but even that’s not enough to distract you from the pain in your chest. It feels like someone has torn you open, ripped your heart out of your ribcage, and thrown it into a bonfire.

But you have no one to blame than yourself.

Tears stream down your face as you stumble through the streets, eventually finding some privacy in a nearby forest. Your sobs echo through the trees as you crawl hand over hand, your uniform shredding open on bushes and branches. The trickle of a creek calls to you and you dunk your bloody hands in the freezing water, desperate to wash yourself of your failures.

You can’t believe what you’ve done.

The scene of Natasha falling to the floor plays over and over in your head and you would pay anything to unsee it. You curl into a ball, wiping your nose on your knees. You deserve all the pain and misery for your actions. You’re so caught up in your head, thinking about all the ways you can punish yourself, that you don’t notice the group of men sneaking up on you from behind.

“Over there! Over there!” 

“By the creek, see?”

“Wait—that’s an Avenger?”

“Looks like someone had a bad day.”

“Hey, Y/N.”

At the sound of your name, you finally lift your head, only for the butt of a shotgun to slam into your face. Your nose breaks and blood fills your mouth. You turn away, not even interested in protecting yourself. If they killed you, you would thank them.

“Aw, come on. At least give us a reaction,” someone says.

The shotgun butt smashes against the back of your head and you wouldn’t be surprised if it cracked your skull. Someone kicks your leg where you were shot, and you bite your lip to hold back a scream.

“Well, this is anti-climactic.”

“Hey, if it makes our job easier, I’m not gonna complain.”

“I still think Hammer’s weird for wanting Y/N over the other Avengers.”

“Given the circumstances, he couldn’t really be picky—”

“Stop standing around and get to it!” someone yells. 

The men surround you, punching and kicking every inch of you. The bulletproof vest of your uniform does little to lessen the impact of their blows. You feel bruises forming along your ribs and your rattling teeth bite your lips bloody. It doesn’t take long for you to black out and the peace is blissful.

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

Sometime later—you have no idea how long—you jolt awake, finding yourself strapped to a metal chair in the middle of a dark, concrete room. A man in glasses and a gray suit with white gloves stands in front of you. 

“Hello, I’m Justin Hammer,” he says, offering a hand, then withdrawing when he realizes your arms are tied to the chair. “Sorry, force of habit.”

You stare at him. Your tongue pokes around the inside of your mouth and you notice some teeth are missing. There is a painful crick in your neck every time you try moving your head and every breath you take feels like a razor blade scraping the inside of your lungs.

“You’ve probably never heard of me, but I’m very familiar with you and your work with the Avengers. But the reason I have you here today is to talk about this man.” Hammer pulls out a folded photograph from his pocket and shows it to you.

It’s Tony Stark, but you have no desire to even think of that man anymore.

“Your best friend, right?” Hammer teases and you curl your lip at him. “What’s wrong? He’s the one who got you a spot on the team, isn’t he?” You look away from him. “I heard what he did to your girl,” he continues. “That must’ve felt like the betrayal of the century.”

“What?” you ask, confused as to what he’s referring to.

“I heard about what happened at the Avengers Tower. So tragic.” Hammer crumples Tony’s photograph and drops it on the floor. “Romanoff didn’t deserve that.”

“W-What are you talking about? Is she okay?” Your bottom lip quivers in fear.

Hammer kneels in front of you. “She’s dead, Y/N.”

“No, no…” You feel like he’s punched you right through the chest. “T-That’s not possible.”

“I’m sorry. I know she meant a lot to you.” Hammer stands again.

“How do you even know what happened at the Tower?” Given its security, there was no way news like that reached the public. At least not the truth of it. Maybe Hammer was just trying to mess with you.

Hammer motions behind him and a blonde woman steps forward from the shadows. Her face jolts your memory, but you don’t remember exactly where from.

“Recognize her?” Hammer asks. “She actually works for me, but she’s been pretending to be a SHIELD agent for some time now. She was right outside the door when your little spat with Stark went down.” Your mind flashes back to when you returned from the mission with Natasha. On your way to the private Avengers’ quarters, you remember passing the same blonde woman right outside the door.

“She heard everything that happened inside,” Hammer says as the blonde woman retreats into the darkness again.

“N-Natasha’s…She’s…She’s not dead,” you stammer.

Hammer shakes his head. “She went into surgery after Stark shot her, but due to the placement of the bullet, there were some complications and she coded on the table. They couldn’t revive her. That part was all over the news.”

You feel so sick you want to vomit. “I…I killed her?”

“No. You didn’t kill her. Tony Stark killed her.”

You start gasping for air, only worsening the pain in your chest. “No—But—He—I’m the one who pulled the trigger—”

“But you weren’t aiming for her. You were aiming for Stark, and he’s the one who deflected the bullet into her,” Hammer says. “He’s also the one who sent you two on that mission to begin with, wasn’t he? The reason you lost your cool and pulled your gun out? Think, Y/N. All of this is Stark’s fault.”

But the sadness of thinking you’ve killed Natasha is too overwhelming. You can’t focus on anything but your own guilt. You will burn in hell for this and you won’t even mind.

“Listen to me, Y/N!” Hammer snaps, striking you across the face. His rings cut into your cheek and blood fills your mouth. “I hate Stark just as much as you do. He’s been my business rival for years and I need someone to help me take him down. Who better than you, a former friend of his, who knows how to hit him where it hurts?”

You start crying at the thought of having to exist in a world without Natasha Romanoff.

Hammer tries getting your attention by slapping you again, but you’re unresponsive. You’re too lost in your grief to process anything he’s saying, and eventually he gives up, promising to come back another time to reveal his master plan to you.

It takes an entire month before he can even communicate with you. Your depression is all-consuming and their threats on your life have no effect. They’re startled to learn you actually enjoy the torture because you believe you deserve it after what you did to Natasha. But Hammer is relentless and finally figures out how to manipulate you into his bidding.

Six months after your capture and the accident, you finally crack. Your agony and pain turns into pure rage and hatred for Tony Stark. You can’t bring Natasha back, but you can get revenge on the man who took her life. After training with Hammer’s technology, which is almost as advanced as Tony’s, you’re deemed ready to be let out in the real world. Hammer personally asks for your help to kill Tony Stark, and it’s an offer you accept gladly.

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

Three months after the accident…

Natasha wakes up and looks to her right, disappointed to see the bed still empty. She’s tricked herself into believing that one day you’ll show up, ready to pick up the pieces and continue where you left off. But nothing has been the same since you left.

She sits up and turns the lights on. She scoots to the edge of the bed and carefully lifts her body into the wheelchair parked there.

The bullet had struck her lumbar spine, shattering her L1 vertebrae and paralyzing her from the waist down. Tony requested help from the best doctors he knew, but even the greatest modern advancements couldn’t repair her spine. He had personally designed her wheelchair, and she knows she should be grateful to still be alive, but she’s never felt so helpless and alone. 

After the accident, you ran off and no one could locate you. Secretly, she held onto the hope you would return one day, but she knows your guilt and shame are keeping you away. She wants to tell you that it wasn’t your fault and that she doesn’t hate you, but you’re not even giving her that chance.

Tony made the public announcement that Black Widow had retired from the Avengers. No one knew she had been paralyzed, nor that you had unofficially resigned from the team. Without you, without Black Widow, Natasha didn’t know who she was anymore.

She leaves her bedroom and goes into the kitchen. Tony arranged most of the food and dishes down to her new height but she feels like she’ll never adjust to not being able to stand anymore. She locates a bowl and a box of cereal and rolls over to the table. She chokes down dry Cheerios and pours her second bowlful when Tony walks in.

“Thank God you’re finally up,” he says. “When you’re done, I have something to show you.”

“Y/N?” She perks up.

“Uh…no…”

Natasha knows Tony blames himself just as much as she does for her accident, but it wasn’t his fault either. She wrestled between anger and guilt, sometimes blaming you, sometimes blaming him. But in the end, it’s easier to blame herself. She should have stopped you the moment you took out your gun, regardless of whether or not you pushed her. But she got so caught up in the moment she froze, and now she was paralyzed and you were gone.

“Just come down to my workshop, okay?” Tony disappears again.

With nothing better to do, Natasha takes the elevator down to Tony’s workshop. She doesn’t visit often, but when she does, she’s always impressed by his latest inventions and gadgets. She rolls down the aisle of old Iron Man suits displayed in glass cases, admiring the subtle differences in each one.

“Where are you, Tony?” she calls.

“Over here!” He waves her down from the other end. “I’ve been working on this for a while, and I know it’s a little premature, but I couldn’t help myself.” Tony stands next to another Iron Man suit, but it doesn’t quite look like it will fit him.

The suit is curved to fit a woman, black and red instead of Tony’s iconic red and gold. Natasha sees a red hourglass emblazoned on the belt buckle.

“What…What is this, Tony?” she asks, tears in her eyes.

“It’s an Iron Widow suit,” he says. “Or, whatever you want to call it. You’ll have to get in and test it out for yourself, but it’ll allow you to walk again and…be an Avenger again.”

Natasha wishes she could throw herself into his arms, but pulls him down to her level instead. “Thank you,” she whispers, wiping her face. She never thought she would be able to serve as an Avenger again, but she’ll take the opportunity if it means taking her mind off recent events.

“Ready to try it out?” Tony presses a button on the side of the suit and the suit opens up, bending into a crouched position so Natasha can get in it like a chair.

 She smiles for the first time since the accident.

 “I am.”

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

Six months after the accident…

Natasha is in the gym, lifting dumbbells on a bench when Tony walks in. Although she now has a legitimate excuse for skipping leg day for the rest of her life, she now has to make sure her upper body is twice as strong to make up for it.

“Look who decided to slide through my DMs this morning,” Tony says, shoving his phone in her face.

Midnight. Central Park Carousel. Come alone.

The text was from you.

“Oh, my God,” Natasha says, setting the weights down. You haven’t even texted her since the accident, and she’s a little hurt you didn’t reach out to her first. “What’s this about?”

“I have no idea.” Tony shrugs. “I know it says for me to go alone, but since it’s from Y/N, I wanted to ask if you wanted to tag along.”

“Of course.” In a way, Natasha feels like the text is really meant for her. Central Park was where you had asked her to be your girlfriend. That couldn’t be a coincidence.

“I’ll need you to be on your A-game. We have no idea what Y/N’s been up to these past six months. I don’t know if you’re gonna like what we find,” Tony says.

Natasha has spent countless nights wondering where you’ve been and what you’re doing. Now she has the chance to find out. “It’s going to be okay, Tony,” she says.

He shakes his head. “Just so you know, I’m praying more for you than me right now.”

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

Click here for Part 3!

AN: I never went to medical school, so forgive my medical inaccuracies.

[yanderenightmare]

You made me fall in love with fear, it's all just fascinating. The way you write is an aesthetic in itself! It's so beautiful and thought-provoking. If your requests are open, I would love to see your volume one Yanderes with a clumsy s/o. Like, she is accident prone, always injuring herself, etc. I wonder how they would react with such fragility? Thanks! Have a wonderful day! :D

yandere ! BNHA headcannons

TIP-JAR

goodiebag WARNINGS: yandere, dumbification, abuse, manipulation, ableism, anxiety, death, murder, drugs, drugging, kidnapping

BAKUGO KATSUKI - KACHAN

He knew fragile things existed in the world.

And he knows that the world was designed to chew such powerless things up then spit them out again.

And he knows he isn’t one of those frail things.

As a child he thought it was fair for the strong to conquer the weak.

And hell… he still thinks it’s fair.

Her brittle nature provides him with such a great excuse too, such a perfect explanation for him to justify taking her.

To justify keeping her in soft frilly clothes, locked inside a room devoid of walls where they have been replaced by cushions and pillows and blankets and furs and stuffed-animals and all things soft, soft, soft against the bruises and scrapes on her knees and ankles and elbows and chin. Keeping her all cozy and clumsy where she’s unable to keep her footing on the plushie asylum floor, reduced to vertigo, especially with that fluffy pink ankle-cuff chaining her down.

Sometimes she’ll hide when hearing Bakugo’s footsteps coming thundering from behind her door. She’ll wrap herself up in all those soft things she’s grown to hate, pray under the covers only to hear the cracking predatory humor of Bakugo’s laugh once he spots where the chain trails to.

He'll drag her out of hiding like a puppy on a leash, all for him to punish, all with that splitting frenzied grin on his face, the one that makes her head dizzy on the sight of seeing how sharp those canines of his are, knowing how they’re going to find her neck as though she’s some chew-toy.

He’ll always make it sound as though that’s what she wanted, that punishment is what her weakness begged him for, as though weakness is synonymous with wanting pain or needing pain.

He’ll sleep there with her most of the time, in the room he’s made so painstakingly clear was her home. She’s coming more and more gradually to the understanding that nothing in reality is hers anymore. Not the room, not the clothes, not her body.

She’s too weak to be allowed to be in charge of anything, better for her to just find comfort in knowing how she has no responsibilities, better for her to just be grateful Bakugo wanted her as his pet rather than his prey. Better for her to listen and believe him when he tells her that she’s safe, instead of thinking of all those crippling reasons as to why she is far from being safe.

TODOROKI SHOTO

Clumsy prey is a sport Shoto always believed to be too mediocre and boring, given how easily the dexterity of the predator can win the chase.

He didn't think he could achieve stimulation without a challenge.

But, he’s now finding that chasing someone who’s barely able to keep her own footing is a game he rather enjoys quite salaciously. Understanding now that it’s less about the quest, less about actually catching his prize, and more about the experience, those funny little moments leading up to it.

The amount of hungry pleasure he derives from seeing her stagger away from him is bottomless.

He doesn’t know why, but it’s the outmost endearing and lovable and precious and cute thing he can think of.

Seeing her stumble and fall, all in the product of mixing her clumsiness with her wild manic fear. Watching those beautiful swivel-eyes spiral as she looks up at him through the thick darkness of the poorly lit hallways, hearing nothing but Shoto’s inhumanly sadistic snickering and her own heavy panting as she tries desperately to drag herself further away. Yet, knowing and awaiting his massive biting cold hand to grip around her ankle to drag her across the marble-floor back into her dungeon, back into the soft bed, so that they can do everything again.

Most chases end up with her hurting herself and eventually aiding her own capture.

She’ll always wake up with bruises she has no recollection of when or how she got, yet looking at them she can tell that they’re way too mellow to be something given to her by Shoto.

It's funny, where he hurts her, he actually ends up saving her more times than most. Where her sporadic escape has almost led her to go tumbling down the stairwell, where were it not for Shoto catching her in her fall, things could have gotten really ugly.

He wouldn’t want her to actually break her legs after all, no matter how many times he might tease and threaten her with the thought. Broken legs would mean no more games, and Shoto doesn’t want that to end any time soon.

But, there are softer aspects to her silliness too.

She can be just as dopey and awkward with her rambling thoughts as him, where her inelegance with her mobility seeps into her skillfulness with words too.

If she’s proper blissed-out she can talk up storms of complete and utter nonsense, rambling on about her dreams and what animal the shape of Shoto’s scars resemble and how pretty his eyes are and how much her body is tingling in the aftershocks of what fun Shoto exercised on her skin.

MIDORIYA IZUKU - DEKU

Naivety really is bliss, isn’t it?

Not just for herself, but for him too.

To watch her, in all her clumsy glory, fall on her face, time and time again, never learning her lesson.

That’s the definition of insanity, you know?

Doing the same thing over and over again expecting things to go differently.

But, no matter how many times she tries to escape, no matter how many times she runs, or screams or cries or swears she hates him until her lungs burn, she’ll always end up right where she started off, right where she belongs, right in his arms, under his thumb, under him.

He doesn’t even have to put any effort in to prevent it.

He just needs to sit back and enjoy the show as she fails so spectacularly all by her very own, then pick her up off the floor and coo and hush and shush and tsk at her to calm down or else she might end up hurting herself all over again.

How has such fickle featherbrained maladroit messes managed to survive? How hasn’t evolution wiped them from existence yet?

Perhaps because other more evolved creatures found them to be such a perfect source for blowing off steam. Entertainment is important after all. Small little escapes through the day where you can forget what nasty troubles you’ll eventually have to deal with and simply just play with your silly little pet.

He saves the world every now and again, the world can allow him this much, to have his very own swivel-eyed toy. He deserves it. 

Besides, she needs him. If he hadn’t stepped in and helped her, saved her from her own mistakes, evolution would have done its job and she’d be dead already.

But, he doesn’t expect her bumbling brainless little head to understand that, she’d just get a headache from thinking about it too hard.

No, better for her to focus on other things… like how to entertain him before he decides to show her just how small a foolish little thing she is.

He’ll often play with her, make her turn all shades of hopeless because she’s too forgetful and too soft-natured to comprehend what’s happened.

He’ll give her things, small little trinkets as presents for her good behavior, mostly accessories such as hair-bows, necklaces, anything he can easily slip off her without her noticing, then pretend to be disappointed, scolding her as though she’s some child who’s unable to take care of her things, punish her and kiss her on that scared foolish little face as she splutters out her apologies, having not a single clue she’s right where he wants her, completely clueless to the fact that she’s perfect in every which way imaginable.

DABI - TODOROKI TOUYA

It feels so unexplainably good to hold something infinitely helpless and vulnerable and dainty in his destructive hands without it shattering like glass.

It feels so insurmountably meaningful and purposeful and godsend to save someone for once, even if it’s from themselves.

It’s nice being in the presence of true chaos, the true absence of order, a great real heap of a total clusterfuck. It makes him believe that even life requires a little death to scare them into safety, that even light requires darkness, that even love needs darkness, that even love desires darkness.

He used to think small things such as her were made up of cotton and all things soft like dandelion-fluff, but now he knows they’re made of breakable brittle things such as autumn-leaves, in desperate need of being wrapped up, suffocated, drowned in safety. He’s the one who needs to be soft like cotton, he’s the one who needs to be gentle and soft so she not crumble like the sweet pastry she is.

It’s cute. She’s cute. Unbelievably so too sometimes.

He feels like half the time he spends with her he’s teaching her how to walk properly, catching her when she falls or helping her up from the ground, dusting her off, wiping tears away from her face, patching up small scrapes and gashes, kissing her forehead, letting her know how it’s all okay, making sure she knows she’s no such thing as a burden, though not letting her in on the fact that he loves seeing her fail only for him to save the day.

He’ll take her outside more because of her ditzy nature, knowing how she’s far too dopey to ever manage an escape without pulling out a near miss unintentional suicide attempt, where which after a number of rescues from him she forgets why she was even running in the first place, now too caught up with being close to him instead, with feeling safe, feeling protected.

He’ll save her from wandering off into traffic, protect her when she says the wrong idiotic thing to the wrong batch of people, fight for her when her cuteness lures and pulls and ensnares other predators.

It’s symbiosis, if he thinks about it, if he tries justifying it.

She needs him and he needs to feel needed. She needs to be taken care of, he wants to take care of her, she needs protection from herself, he wants her dependence, he wants the safety of knowing how she cannot survive without him.

SHIGARAKI TOMURA

It’s hilarious.

She’ll break her own legs for him at this rate.

He wonders how many braincells could possibly be left in that thick skull of hers, with how much she trips and walks into walls and rolls out of bed, bumping her head on every possible thing, he can’t count how many times she’s head-butted him, whether it’s been on purpose or not. 

He wonders if she might just be blind.

If maybe she needs glasses…

Well… that’s too bad if that’s the case, no chance he’s giving up watching her agonize over every misstep that leads to her falling on the floor by his feet, her head tipping to look up at him with that ridiculous expression, that dumbfounded adorable confusion.

It probably doesn’t help that he keeps the room so dark.

It probably doesn’t help that he leaves things on the floor in hopes of her foot catching on them.

But, can you blame him for wanting to see her all cute and flushed? Watching her frustrate over herself, too caught up in being mad with her own inadequacy to bother being mad at him. So preciously hopeless as she tries to pick herself up off the floor, her hair always in a mess and bruises and scrapes littering her otherwise soft skin.

Pretty and stupid isn’t usually the type he fawns over, in fact: pretty and stupid is usually the type that disgust him, pretty stupid bitches that never spare him a second glance, pretty stupid bitches that are only worth one fuck before he dusts them.

But pretty stupid and sweet? 

That’s the perfect cocktail.

So stupid and sweet she doesn’t even know how pretty she is. So stupid and sweet that she’s surprised he gave her a second glance.

He wonders if he as well would be this careless and reckless if he hadn’t been gifted with that destructive quirk of his.

He wonders if she had been born with a heart made less up of honeycombs and more daggers like his, if she would also second-guess touching things as opposed to making it her mission to bump into every single thing in her path.

If she would be less trusting and more cynical like him.

He’s grateful she wasn’t.

He’s grateful that the only type of death she’ll ever get the chance to taste is him, that as far as she’s concerned… he is death.

TAKAMI KEIGO - HAWKS

Most of the time it’s cute.

Most of the time he loves watching her fall prey to her own absentmindedness. Watch her trip on nothing but her own poor footing.

After all, he does love catching her before she hits the ground. He loves being her hero, seeing that shocked expression on her face, that cute blush of embarrassment as he smirks down upon her jumpy skittish person.

Then of course there’s the less salvageable moments, yet still no less cute, where she’ll drop dinner plates or her glass or the wine bottle or the remote-controller, where she’ll get so frustrated with herself and her stubby fingers, her feet always needing bandaging where she always manages to step in her own mess of glass-shards.

Those times where she fucks up and fears Keigo’s temperance so much she’ll turn into a timid little ball of apologies and gratitude, where she’ll fear that any more screw ups will cost her his understanding attitude and awake something livid inside him.

She’ll be so sweet with fear as opposed to when she’ll jerk away from his touch.

So yeah, most of the time it’s cute, most of the time it’s beneficial.

But that habit she has of not thinking before speaking or acting gets her into a whole lot of trouble too.

Especially when she pushes him away or calls him something unsavory. When she acts like a brat, forgetting who’s in charge.

Keigo feels the need to teach her a thing or two about being a bit more careful and a little less brainless. 

He’ll pose her in the middle of the living room, with only red lace adorning her tiny frame, looking cold but not so much to be the reason to her shivers, he knows better as he can smell the fear laced in the air.

On top of her head he’ll put a perfect plump red apple and tell her to stand as still and picture-perfect as possible.

She’s pretty good at it too, at being still and quiet and pretty, speaking only when spoken to, at least until he starts sending knife-sharp feathers in her directions, creating her silhouette in the wall as the feathers fly just short of nicking her skin, where if she moves only a slight mere inch, the crimson edges will slice open her skin.

And if the apple should fall, well… if she can be sweet and apologize and show him just how sorry she is, he’ll think about making the punishment enjoyable.

SHINSO HITOSHI

Hitoshi can’t manifest how much awe he has for that ditzy nature of hers.

So forgetful, so clueless, so cute.

She’s like a little girl, a child, a baby in a cradle, yet with the ability to get lost, wandering off at every slight distraction.

He’s tempted to put a bell around her neck if only to be alerted off when her curiosity has taken her out of his eyesight. She would look adorable with a little golden jingle bell around her throat, hanging on a velvet choker.

But then again… he wouldn’t have the joy of finding her all tousled and knotted up in her newest little fuck up.

Little Miss Forgetful forgetting all her lessons, all those rules Hitoshi’s taught her, forgetting her manners, forgetting her chores, forgetting how to be his good little girl or else suffer the consequences of being punished and becoming Master’s little puppet on strings.

Little Miss Messy making a total clutter in the kitchen when trying her best to get her hand on a knife, but only managing to bump into everything, shards of glass painting the crime scene with the culprit displayed and trapped all perfectly in the middle of her own mess, all for Hitoshi to come and catch red-handed.

Little Miss Bump with new bruises and scratches as she’s fallen yet again on the floor in the midst of her newest escape attempt.

He could go on all day about his sweet little Miss Silly, his little Miss Scatterbrain, his little Miss Stupid, who’s always getting into trouble, constantly needing Hitoshi to come to her rescue.

But, when he’s not home, he can get anxious.

Scared that she might actually hurt herself just a bit too much and he’ll arrive just a bit too late.

It should take a lifetime to die, yet she’s on the verge of death nearly every day, it only takes an instant and it’s over.

He’ll check in on her at home more times than he probably should throughout the day, praying before he unlocks the door and steps inside the quiet stillness of their house, picturing her having cracked her skull open when slipping or accidently managing to hang herself off of something or drowning in the tub after having fallen asleep, there’s no end to what horrors he can picture.

His anxiety only satiated when finding her still asleep on the bed, soft untroubled snores hanging off the walls. 

It makes sense with how much melatonin he slipped in her drink before she dozed off…

Just a little safety measure.

CHISAKI KAI - OVERHAUL

It manages to surprise him each and every time… just how much danger such a little thing is able to wrap herself up in.

It’s as though she chases the trouble, as though she wants the punishment that follows.

He doubts she ever really thinks anything thoroughly through.

She’s reckless, ruthless in her disregard for safety. Hare-brained and untrustworthy and in desperate need of his protection and his correction, or else she might just accidentally kill herself one day or worse… end up in the wrong set of hands.

It’s come to the point where he’s stopped gifting her with jewelry, because he gets so hysterically uneasy whenever she’s gotten her hands on anything sharp.

Before he’d get angry when she threatened him, wrathful, raging because she doesn’t listen, her foolish little brain unable to follow the simplest of directions. 

Now though, he gets scared because she’s unable to understand what’s best for her, because the only thing she'll ever manage to hurt with those sharp trinkets is herself.

And if she hurts herself, if she risks getting bacteria in her bloodstream, infections in her wounds, scarring and marring that beautiful body, he’ll have no choice, he’ll see no other option but to make sure she can never manage such a thing ever again.

He often humors the idea of simply tying her to the bed and feeding her with a silver spoon, only liquids so she not choke when she forgets how to chew properly.

He’ll act as though she’s a nuisance, but it will be a lie most of the time, while actually finding an inane amount of reassurance and relief in her whimsy, in her gracelessness. Where yes, she is a danger, but she’s far from deadly.

And besides, it’s nice getting a little break from all formalities, someone he can finally be a little rough around the edges with, someone he can let himself enjoy soft pleasures with, someone he can smile or even laugh with when the occasion calls for it. 

Sometimes he’ll place her in high-heels, only to watch her stumble around awkwardly like a little deer skating on ice.

She’s so determined too, determined to prove she isn’t a klutz, how she too can be elegant enough for a dance fit for the ballroom.

He’ll humor that fantasy, but she’ll always throw her heels off in favor of standing on top of his surgically white sneakers and letting herself get floated and swayed with how swiftly and precisely Kai has the established proper poise to enact.

He’ll smile then, when those flirty bubbling giggles erupt from her as she holds onto him, telling how him wonderful flying feels like.

TIP-JAR