#recovery. i mean i hope that anyway. i like him. but like…

[mediocre-daydreams]

If you’re comfortable with it, could you do prompt “i knew this would happen” with Peter where the reader is in recovery for anorexia and Peter makes a comment about her looking healthier or something, trying to be supportive but it actually sets her back?

hi nonnie! i hope you're doing well :) i've kept the story a bit vaguer so it could be encompassing of multiple types of EDs and i tried to write out things that could be potentially triggering, so i hope you'll find more comfort than hurt with this fic <3

burnt cookies

peter parker x ed! reader

summary: peter makes a well-intentioned comment about your recovery that ends up making you feel worse. (hurt/comfort fic)

w/c: 2.1k

notes: big tw for ed (eating disorder) content, descriptions of unhealthy relationships with food but no explicit diagnosis mentioned, no specific "methods" mentioned other than throwing something out, no descriptions of bodies

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

it’s been a while since you’d seen peter and may. you’d made the difficult decision to take a month-long health leave from midtown so you could focus on your recovery, and though it was painful and lonely and frustrating, getting to kiss peter for the first time in weeks made everything feel better.

“i missed you,” peter mumbled into your hair, squeezing you closer. he pressed a couple more kisses to your forehead in a steady pattern, making you laugh breathlessly. you’d been with peter for over a year now, but he still managed to give you butterflies.

“i missed you too. and i missed may’s burnt cookies,” you grinned, peeking behind peter’s body, still holding on to you as if you’d disappear, and gave may an awkward wave from beneath peter’s arm that’d trapped your own.

“aw, me and my burnt cookies missed you too,” may smiled, pulling peter off of you so she could envelop you into a hug of her own. the wonderful thing about aunt may was how normally she still treated you, even after you’d told her about your situation. it was nice to feel like you were still a person, not just a medical diagnosis or an anomalistic body to be poked and prodded.

“anyways, what am i doing? come inside, peter’s so boring. i need your presence to brighten up the apartment.”

“hey!” peter gasped jokingly. “i’d say the friendly neighborhood spiderman is pretty interesting.”

you tapped your chin as you wiped your shoes on the doormat and slid them off. “who, the red and blue cosplayer? never heard of him.”

may laughed and shouted a message of agreement behind her shoulder as she made her way into the kitchen to take out her cookies from the oven.

you liked those cookies. not because they tasted good, but because they’d come to mean something to you. maybe you were being sappy, but every time may would bake for you knowing that the end result would probably not be very appealing, it allowed you to associate happiness with food. the cookies were lighthearted, imperfect, and full of love. you always made sure to take a few bites, and her cookies never tasted like numbers or anxiety or regret. they tasted like may’s love for you.

peter took your hand, giving you one of those smiles that made his eyes crinkle. “it’s quiet without you here. well, ned is pretty loud, but it’s not the same. nothing really compares to you.”

peter looked at you fondly. “i’m so proud of you, though. for finding the strength to take care of yourself.” he cupped your cheeks with his hands, watching as you beamed up at him. “you’re so strong. my strong girl. my brave girl.”

“my stupid, horrendous, semi-okay boy,” you sniffed haughtily. “i guess i missed you too, or whatever.”

you remembered the last time you were here. it was a few days before you left school, and you’d felt awful all afternoon. you chalked it up to dehydration, though you were fully aware that it wasn’t. mj had been asking you months ago if you were alright, and you’d reassured her that she had nothing to worry about. when peter and ned caught on shortly afterward, you started upping the lies. the two of them were nowhere near as perceptive as mj (well, nobody can match mj), so the lies only grew larger and grander.

may had brought home a small cake that was on clearance sale, excitedly cutting thick slices for the three of you. it made you nauseous, but you thanked her politely. you had hoped you could sneak away and throw it out, but peter suggested that the three of you eat while watching a movie, so you couldn’t. it sat in front of you tauntingly, and soon your mind couldn’t focus on anything but the cake.

counting was ridiculous, you know, but it made you feel safe. safety from what, you weren’t quite sure. but it had become a routine that you became addicted to, and trying to stop yourself felt like you were going through withdrawal.

“you look good, though. you look healthy.” peter commented, taking your shoulders and holding you at arm’s length so he could examine your body.

you smiled painfully. “yeah, well. i tried,” you grimaced, not wanting to be reminded of your physical appearance. “i feel… better, i guess. i’m just trying to go day-by-day and not overthink it.” you hoped peter would get the message.

“that makes sense. and for what it’s worth, i think all that trying has paid off. you look like yourself again,” he smiled. “you look like when i first met you.”

oh, right. you’d met him your freshman year, when you were nervous and insecure and hadn’t quite fallen into this unhealthy pattern but were already harboring those nasty thoughts. you wondered if you’d been like this for the entirety of your relationship. did peter even know you, or did he just know the fucked up, sick version of you? on that note, did you even know you? or had it been so long living like this that you couldn’t remember a relationship with food outside of what you currently knew?

“thanks,” you lied through your teeth. “that means a lot.”

peter sighed contentedly, swinging a reassuring arm over your shoulder and ushering you into a couch. “sit with me?”

you smiled, a genuine one this time, and crawled into his lap like the two of you had always done. you fit together perfectly. well, you’d fit together before, but you’d changed now, hadn’t you? did you still fit the same?

“i like having you here,” peter whispered, brushing the hair from your face tenderly. “i had nothing to do. well, literally and figuratively.” the two of you laughed. “but i am- i really am proud of you. i knew you could do it, y’know? never doubted you for a second. ‘cause you’re the strongest girl i know.”

“i have to go to the bathroom,” you blurted. “i have… diarrhea and, uh, cramps. also i’m nauseous, so… bye!” you scrambled off peter’s lap, who looked more concerned for your wellbeing than put off by your blunt confessions.

“wait, are you-”

the bathroom door slammed shut before peter could finish. may turned from where she stood in the kitchen, an oven mitt on one hand as she tried to fan her smoking tray of “cookies.”

“what’s up?” she frowned, coming behind peter to place two comforting hands on his shoulders. she kneaded the muscles, noticing how tense peter was.

“i dunno, she just ran off. i think she has food poisoning. which is… ironic. also unfortunate.” may and peter looked at each other knowingly.

“she doesn’t really have food poisoning, does she?”

“…no. but i don’t know why she ran off like that! i mean, she was totally fine when she got here and it’s been like ten minutes and i feel like she would’ve told me if something bad happened and she needed to go home or something; did i do something wrong? like, should i-”

“woah, pete. calm down, okay? you have to remember, recovery isn’t something that can be totally checked off in one month. she’s still recovering; probably gonna be for a long time. and she just got back after a month of being surrounded by food and doctors and measurements; i think she’d appreciate just having someone giving her a sense of normalcy.”

may sighed. “i knew a lot of girls my age who struggled with stuff like this. a few guys too. it’s all very different for everyone because it’s so personal, but i can tell how happy you make her. i think she’d rather be here with her boyfriend than be here with a hallmark sympathy card, y’know?”

peter’s face scrunched in thought, but he nodded. “thanks, may. i think i’ll go check on her.”

peter knocked on the bathroom door hesitantly. he heard a quiet scuffle and what sounded like a sniff before a brief pause. then, your voice, saying “come in.”

he jiggled the doorknob. “it’s locked.”

“oh,” you muttered, the sound muffled from the barrier between the two of you. you opened the door with your eyes fixed at your feet, but peter opened his arms and you ran into them without hesitation. he could feel wetness soaking through his shirt.

“sorry, i didn’t mean to cry,” you chuckled bitterly. “i’ve been all emotional recently. maybe i’m like, pms-ing, or something. i don’t know.” you pulled away from peter and wiped your eyes. “sorry, the stupidest things overwhelm me sometimes.”

“it’s not stupid. if it overwhelms you, it’s not stupid. the way you feel is important.” peter took both your hands and gave you a reassuring squeeze with one. “i’m sorry for making you feel like you’re not allowed to- to struggle. it’s okay to have ups and downs, baby, i promise. i don’t wanna make you feel like you have to be perfect all the time, or put pressure on you to pretend, for my sake.”

you smiled, bottom lip wobbly. “thanks, pete. sometimes i don’t even feel like a person. i can’t even remember what it was like… before this. i can’t remember what it was like to really live, y’know, freely, without having to think about all this-” you shook your head around for emphasis, “-bullshit. and when you go to treatment, the doctors ask you all these questions about your body and your food and your problems and you just feel like one big problem that needs to be solved. and all that anyone’s been saying to me recently is how much ‘healthier’ i look and how they like me better this way, and it just frustrates me because, like-” you huffed.

“‘cause, fuck you, y’know? i don’t give a fuck about what you like. it’s really, really hard, still, to convince myself that what i’m doing is good for me. it still feels shitty—trying to ‘recover’ or whatever, i mean. so it’s just frustrating that people think i’m automatically better. it makes them think they have the right to berate my older self and praise this ‘new’ version of me, when i feel like i haven’t changed at all.”

peter’s heart sunk at your words and the only thing he could think to do was pull you closer. maybe it was more for his comfort than yours, but he buried his head into the crook of your neck and tried to ignore the watering in his eyes. he’d never thought about it that way. he had barely known what an eating disorder was before you’d told him about your medical diagnosis and that you’d be leaving; of course, he did his research, but he’d never considered the actual psychological effects that the disorder, treatment, and the words of others would have on the person.

it reminded him of when he first started being spiderman. he’d kept it a secret, knowing that the people he loved could be endangered if they knew his identity, but it felt like nobody respected that. ned and mj thought it was cool, whereas peter worried every day that they’d be hurt and it’d be his fault. he’d been spiderman for so long that he couldn’t remember what it was like to be a normal teenager; when his biggest problem was a calculus pop quiz and not an interdimensional alien war.

“that’s a lot,” peter started, unsure of what to say. he settled for not saying anything at all. “and i’m honored that you trust me enough to tell me.” he pulled back to look into your eyes, which were still a little puffy and red. “we don’t have to talk about this now, or ever, if you want. i know you have more than enough people worrying about you. if you just wanna come here and- and forget about all that, i’d be more than happy to bore you to death with star wars trivia and cuddle you until we decompose.”

you wiped your nose ungracefully, too thankful for peter to care about how you looked. “god, i don’t know what i ever did to deserve someone like you. i don’t know how someone like you could even exist,” you giggled. “i love you so much, peter.”

“i love you too. i love everything about you. everything. and even if you don’t love certain parts of you, i’ve got enough love for the both of us.”

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

peter parker masterlist | main masterlist

taglist:

@bambamwolf87 @im-a-slut-for-fluff @yourallihave @cowboibeepbeep @monty2000

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

if you or someone you know is struggling with disordered eating: you are not alone.

please check out these resources if you need support or help:

crisis text and call lines:

NEDA crisis textline: text “NEDA” to 741741 for free support available 24/7 national suicide prevention lifeline: call 988 for free and confidential support

how to support someone with an ed:

harmful things to say to someone with an ed family involvement in recovery how to properly approach + support someone you suspect has an ed / general information and misconceptions 10 affirming statements (use critical judgment per individual!)

other helplines, treatment options, and organizations

SAMHSA's national helpline: call 1-800-662-HELP (4357) for 24/7 free, confidential service + treatment referral in spanish and english ANAD: call 1 (888)-375-7767 for support, treatment referral, and answers to general questions (only available at certain times)

(abbreviated organizations)

ANAD: national association of anorexia nervosa and associated disorders (it's quite long, isn't it?) NEDA: national eating disorder association SAMHSA: substance abuse and mental health services association

[sgt-seabass]

sgt-seabass' treasured tales

I wanted a place to catalogue some of my favourite fanfiction. Please check out the below fics and show the creators some love. Remember to heed the warnings on each individual fic. All fics are x reader unless otherwise specified. 

This will be updated as I read more.

My works can be found here if you're interested.

🌑 dark fic | ✨ stucky | 🐟 especially good soup

Last updated: 27/06/2022

Dead in the Water 🌑🐟 by @gogolucky13

When the siren calls, you answer. Whether you want to or not.

Pouty Princess 🐟 by @evansbby��

You want to show your daddy that you can be in charge sometimes too, but it doesn’t work out as well as you’d hoped.

i’m in the water 🌑🐟 by @hansensgirl​

He’s in the wind, and you’re in the water. Nobody’s son, nobody’s daughter.

you better not shout, better not cry 🌑🐟 by @hansensgirl​

they know if you’ve been bad or good, so be good for goodness sake.

Can’t Get You Out Of My Head by @spicynudlesoup

Bucky finally arrives home after a tough mission.

The Woman in the Photographs 🌑 by @mhysa-leesi

Bucky finds an old journal he kept as the Winter Soldier that brings back old obsessions.

Moonage Daydream by @syntheticavenger

Unplugged from the world amid Steve’s disappearance, a promise comes to fruition.

Break Into Your Heart 🌑 by @bonky-n-steeb

Your neighbour is not who he seems to be.

Sticky Notes ✨ by @criminallyrobin

They were hot pink. Bucky picked them out himself, his only hand poking at the small pack of paper at Target. “For remembering,” he said, his voice low and tense and fragile. Steve didn’t understand. He never did, these days. He put two packs in their cart anyway.

Mean It by @gogolucky13

You and Bucky get trapped overnight in the safe house after a mission. Everything should be okay, except he’s your ex and thanks to his carelessness, the situation gets a little more complicated.

A Proper Welcome by @navybrat817

You want to be more than your secondary gender, even with your heat around the corner. Lucky for you, Bucky and Hal are understanding alphas.

Budding Romance by @navybrat817

Your first date with Bucky is just the start of your passionate love story.

If You’re Reading This, Steve Rogers ✨ by @fallendarlings

Nobody tells Steve it's okay to cry. Nobody touches him. Nobody remembers Steve Rogers is a person under the mantle. It's okay. He hasn't felt like a person since he watched Bucky fall.

Saved by @sweater-daddiesdumbdork

Hydra tramautized you and you go to Bucky for comfort.

Painted With Bruises 🌑 by @harryspet

In which Bucky kidnaps you in order to get close to his enemy, Steve, but realizes that Steve isn’t the hero he used to be.

You, Me and Him 🌑 by @mypoisonedvine

The worst thing about the man who did this to you is that he’s convinced he isn’t the one who did this to you (or, brainscrambled bucky decides to keep the gift that the winter soldier left for him).

There Is No Shortage of Blood ✨ by @alby_mangroves & @dsudis

The long slow recovery of Bucky Barnes after his escape from HYDRA. (And the longer, slower recovery of his sex life.

We Can't Go To Hell If We're Already There by @luxeavenger

Bucky and the reader offer each other comfort when PTSD and nightmares make it impossible to sleep.

Listen to My Voice 🌑 by @threeminutesoflife

Bucky’s hypnotherapy sessions to help him sleep do not go exactly as planned.

Take A Ride by @jamalflanagan

Chase wants you to ride him, so it’s time he teaches you how he likes it.

Practical Magik 🌑🐟 by @cherienymphe​​

Steve and Bucky were buried on a Saturday. They were knocking on your door a week later.

The Icarus to Your Certainty 🌑by @slothspaghettiwrites​​

honey dripping, saccharine slick, sickly sweet, nectar of the gods. you’re ready, your body is calling to him, and he will have all of you.

despite the threatening sky and shuddering earth (they remained) ✨🐟 by @praximeter

“They really didn’t want the mask to come off.” Hill thumbed through the scans, and pulled out a film that she then handed over to Sam, face mostly expressionless but for the flat line of her pursed lips. Sam accepted the film and held it up to the light, angling so both he and Steve could see it, squinting at the outline of the Winter Soldier’s skull, and the blips of unnatural white that showed up, God, in his brain, not to mention about half his teeth, plus the mask, with its thin protrusions— “Those are pins,” Steve realized. He looked over at Hill. “The mask—it’s nailed to his face.” Hill’s face was as unmoved as ever. “Like I said. They really didn’t want it coming off.”

Say It 🐟 by @sgtjbuccky

In where you loved Bucky unconditionally, enough to sacrifice your life for his happiness, now Bucky tries to save yours.

One Last Time 🌑 by @cherienymphe

Your relationship with Peter becomes more and more suffocating…until you can no longer breathe.

Dollhouse 🌑🐟 by @cherienymphe​

You and Rebecca Barnes are polar opposites, but she’s the closest thing you have to a sister. When your friendship starts to show its cracks, Bucky seizes the opportunity to corner the girl who’s always been just out of reach.

Digital Bath 🌑 by @syntheticavenger

A shy but obsessive and dangerous Omega sets her sights on the perfect Alpha - Bucky Barnes - who has a little darkness of his own.

CTRL 🌑 by @bitchassbucky

Controlling your impulses is hard, cleaning up your mess is even harder.

Burn The Witch by @dreamwritesimagines

The mission was simple; get closer to the Winter Soldier and start a relationship with him to get the necessary information for your superiors to use. Everyone told you not to get your feelings involved. You should have listened.

Ghost of You by @gogolucky13

Bucky has worked hard to come to terms with his past and enjoy the new life he’s been given. But his mind is still plagued by nightmares of what he’s done and by the face of an unknown woman. What happens when the team is tasked with recovering another Winter Solider, causing Bucky’s past and present to collide in the form of the woman from his dreams?

Indelible Suite ✨🐟 by @MMXIII

After decades of neural blockers, sedatives, steroids, cryo-suspension fluids, neuro-toxins, Bucky’s body is falling apart.

Prosperina 🌑 by @boxofbonesfic

Humans have a terrible habit of naming things. Even the old things, the hungry, wanting things that never should have had names to call upon. The things that want to ride on our souls, to see through our eyes and taste life with our mouths. Green is life—but for you, it is death.

Run To You by @specialk-18

Being a protector…Bucky knew that feeling all too well – serving in the military would do that to a man. But Bucky swore to himself he was out of that life. All until a job fell into his lap that he just couldn’t resist.

Third Eye 🐟 by @onsunnyside​​

The man out of time meets a woman out of touch.

Devil’s Mark 🌑 by @babyboibucky

You accept a temp job as a runner for a rockstar’s concert.

Thank you to all the above creators for making amazing content. 💙

[epicstuckyficrecs]

Favourite Long Fics

A friend wanted some recommendations for long fics. I figured I might as well share them here ;) sorted by word count!

Heat Wave series by cleo4u2, xantissa (A/B/O AU | 413K | Explicit | Warning: Violence): Captain America and the Winter Soldier meet for the first time in 2015. Now Bucky, after years of torture at Hydra's and more as a prisoner of S.H.I.E.L.D., is being given the chance to gain his freedom. All he has to do, is complete a mission with a team he can't stand while following the orders of yet another pompous, controlling Alpha. Steve thinks he can get his team through their most difficult mission to date, so long as he can get the smell of the Winter Soldier's heat out of his nose.

Of Broken Dreams and Mended Hearts by Kellyscams (Steampunk AU,  Arranged Marriage | 355K | Mature): When the House of Barnes is left in massive debt after the death of George Barnes, their oldest son and heir, Bucky, is forced to sacrifice his own hopes and dreams by entering an arranged married to Steve Rogers. Steve seems kind enough, has a prominent job in the government, and was even voted Society's Best Catch. But the House Rogers is significantly higher in status than Bucky's family, which means Bucky is marrying up in Society, and marrying up doesn't only come with rewards, it also comes with certain...expectations and losses--some of which Bucky might be willing to do anything to avoid. And those opportunities might come his way. Unless, of course, he actually starts falling in love with his new husband...

Something Wild Calls You Home series by superheroresin (Urban Fanatasy AU, Hybrid Bucky | 331K | Explicit): More than once Steve had to choke down a laugh, and suddenly there was a bond there that went beyond the respect of mutually surviving fifty pounds of unexploded ordinance designed to kill Americans. It was a subtle relationship—Bucky was still a humanoid feline after all—but one that helped make Sakhalin home along with the molten sunrises, the sound of the sea, and the scent of herring before the season’s first snow storm.

Ain't No Rest for the Wicked by Kellyscams (Modern AU, Sex Worker Bucky, Age Difference | 305K | Explicit): Steve's just moved back to Brooklyn after spending ten years in California trying to make a life for himself as an artist right after high school. Having escaped to the other side of the country following the sudden death of his mother, Steve feels guilty about abruptly leaving all his friends for so long, unfulfilled, scared and nervous about started college at his age, and unbelievably lonely. So when he meets Bucky Barnes, a young sex-worker, at a bar the night before his first day of classes, temptations might be too high to resist.One night paying for sex with the most sinfully gorgeous guy is nothing to brag to the papers about, huh?S'not like he'll ever see him again anyway......Right?

Dishonor On Your Cow series by mandarou (Shrunkyclunks, Post-Avengers, Multiverse Traveling | 279K | Explicit | Still a WIP): “Sergeant Barnes?”“Oh, hell no, don’t call him that, man,” Sam warned.“Captain Fuck Off!” Barnes shouted over him. “Fight me!”Steve didn’t know whether to laugh or just slink away. He managed to combine the two by pacing two steps and snorting instead. Like a bull.“I’m gonna need you to calm your ass, Barnes,” Sam said as he went limp again, obstructing Barnes’s struggling under him. “This is so undignified. That is Captain goddamn America.”“Captain goddamn America!” Barnes repeated, louder. And angrier.Steve cleared his throat again. “I’ve been looking for you,” he told Barnes.“I hope you brought lube this time!” Barnes shouted.

There Is No Shortage of Blood by alby_mangroves, Dira Sudis (dsudis) (Post-WS, Bucky Recovering | 246K | Explicit): The long slow recovery of Bucky Barnes after his escape from HYDRA. (And the longer, slower recovery of his sex life.)

If They Haven't Learned Your Name by silentwalrus (Post-WS | 237K | Mature | Warning: Violence): Steve gets out of the hospital in two days, but just barely. “I’m fine,” he tells Sam, Nurse Eunjung and the phalanx of doctors assigned to make sure Captain America didn’t bleed out and die and get bad PR all over their nice clean hospital. “I have an advanced healing factor. It’s fine. See? I’m standing.”“That is not standing,” Sam tells him.“You’re bending the IV stand,” Nurse Eunjung adds pointedly. “Let go and sit down, they don’t grow on trees.” aka Steve and Bucky's Global Honeymoon Revenge World Tour.

Honeypot series by cleo4u2, xantissa (Canon Divergent | 210K | Explicit Warning: Violence): Preconditions: One Sasha Marozow - internationally renowned assassin for hire, known as the Winter Soldier, ex-Hydra operative freelancing for the last five years; One Steve Rogers, Captain America - recently defrosted national hero and Avenger; One assassination contract; One set-up known in the intelligence community as the “honeytrap”. Expected Result: One Winter Soldier in custody, the name of his employer attained. Actual result: Definitely not as expected.

Collar Full of Chemistry by 2bestfriends (Modern AU, BDSM | 188K | Explicit): Steve is very rich and desperate to feel in control of his life again after a recent divorce has left him feeling bitter and lonely. When he keeps crossing paths with a disaster twenty-something, an unconventional solution presents itself. Steve's always been one for following his instincts.Bucky is very broke and can't seem to catch a break, especially after some asshole fires him for one fucking mistake. So of course, it follows that he should sign a contract agreeing to do everything and anything that same asshole wants for a whole year in exchange for a payout that could finally change his life for the better.

Astronomy In Reverse by pansley (Post-WS, Bycku&Peter | 184K | Teen): A year after the Winter Soldier failed his mission in DC, Bucky Barnes is doing his best to stay under the radar from both Hydra and Steve Rogers. His hope for a peaceful day-to-day life in limbo goes awry, however, when he meets Queens’ newest hero; a pure-hearted kid with a death wish and a ridiculous pair of red and blue pajamas. The last thing Steve expects when he finally tracks Bucky down is that, not only has the man been living in Queens all this time, right under his nose, but also that, in the two years since they last saw each other, Bucky somehow acquired a kid.Alternatively: How Peter Parker effectively fucks over Bucky Barnes, and also totally saves him.

Sugar Sweet by ColorCoated (Modern AU, Sugar Daddy | 173K | Explicit): College Student Bucky finds himself immediately attracted to Steve. He knows that Steve's a bit older than him, and that Steve himself is put off by the age difference. . . But that doesn't stop Bucky from wanting to climb him like a tree.

Targeting series by queenmab_scherzo (University Football AU | 172K | Explicit): Steve and Bucky end up playing for rival college football teams.

Song of the Rolling Earth series by the1918 (Shrunkyclunks, Post-Endgame, Canon Divergent, Farmer Steve, Daddy kink, Age Difference | 155K | Explicit): The AU Farmer Daddy Steve and Bucky story.

Compatible series by the1918 (A/B/O, Shrunkyclunks | 153K | Explicit): When young nanotech engineer Bucky Barnes finds himself falling head first in love with none other than Steve Rogers, he ends up getting a lot more of the Alpha than he—or science—could ever have imagined possible.

We Made Ourselves series by notoska (Post-WS | 153K | Explicit): Then Bucky licks his lips, tip of his tongue just grazing the sensitive skin of Steve’s ear and Steve moans. Nothing close to the surge of lust behind his ribs, but a tiny, breathy sound all the same. Bucky doesn’t react—he must not have heard. Though a minute later he curls his fingers and extends them again, moving just slow enough for it to be a caress.Just tip your head into his touch. He’ll take the lead and trace the folds of your ear with his tongue until you can’t keep quiet any more. Then he’ll smother your desperate little noises with his mouth, fingers twisting in your hair. Kissing deeply, tongues reaching to declare your filthy intentions. Find his knee with your hand and slide wolfishly up his thigh until you reach the bulge behind his fly. Palm him through his trousers until he’s panting in your mouth, until he’s pressing his forehead to yours, hips bucking, and you can see his dark eyes, glinting in the screen’s flickering light, pleading—Steve jolts back to the present. The credits are rolling and Bucky is reading them as well. The screen blacks and two fluorescent lights buzz to life. Bucky loosens his hand from Steve’s head, welcoming the world back in.

Space Oddity by crinklefries, cyclamental art (cyclamental), nalonzoo (Post-Endgame, Multiverse Traveling, Loki&Thor | 147K | Mature): After the world ends, things happen to Bucky in this specific order: he helps defeat Thanos, he rejects Steve’s attempt to address Feelings, he watches Steve volunteer to put the Infinity Stones back in time, he waits for Steve to come back, he is sad when Steve does not come back, he realizes that everyone thinks Steve disappeared in 2012 (???), he gets taken to space by Carol Danvers (!!!), he meets up with a depressed literal alien Norse God, he and the depressed literal alien Norse God travel through space, he and the depressed literal alien Norse God hit a wormhole and fall into the--Multiverse.What the fuck.This is the story of how Bucky and Thor pick up the pieces of their lives, find their own worth, find their own person, and find their way out of a multiverse of 100 realities stitched together with 100 tropes. There’s love, there’s friendship, there’s an extreme amount of Tesseract fuckery, but most importantly there are sexy vampires. Bon Appetit.

Parallels and Parallels 2 by spoffyumi (Multiverse Traveling |138K | Explicit): At the end of "Captain America: Winter Soldier," Steve fell from the helicarrier into the water. He wakes up, however, in an alternate universe where he and Bucky are dating. // Bucky wakes up from cryo in a parallel universe - in which he works at a coffeeshop and Steve is his favorite customer.

What I Used To Be by thepinupchemist (A/B/O AU | 117K | Explicit | Warning: Rape/Non-Con): When the police uncover a hidden sub-basement in the home of criminal Alexander Pierce and find a tortured omega and his three pups, they bring them to the Stark Omega Clinic, a non-profit dedicated to rehabilitating traumatized omegas.After dark in September 2005, fourteen year old Bucky Barnes vanished. Eleven years and three pups later, he is far from the boy that went missing from a suburban neighborhood outside of Denver.Steve Rogers is an alpha of some means. When he came into money, he decided to use what he had for good and sign up as a candidate to be a support alpha for his close friend Tony's charitable clinic. When he takes on the task of helping reintegrate Bucky and his pups into the world, he doesn't expect to fall so hard.

The Fool in the Mirror by thepinupchemist (A/B/O, Shrunkyclunks | 111K | Explicit | Warning: Violence): The Avengers, SHIELD, and the world at large have underestimated the pain that Steve Rogers is in.The night after a near brush with a suicide attempt, Steve discovers the world of support omegas, and in his desperation for relief from the battlefield of his brain, demands to have one.Enter Bucky Barnes: retired marine, millennial, amputee, brother, son, and support omega. He maybe, just maybe, can help a broken alpha heal in the twenty-first century.

The Night War: 60th Anniversary Edition by praximeter (Zimario) (TFA/WW2, Diary | 109K | Teen): In 1947, Master Sergeant James B. Barnes's surviving field journals were posthumously published as the classic war memoir The Night War. Now a high school history classroom mainstay and required reading at West Point, this highly anticipated 60th Anniversary Edition presents the original, unedited text alongside detailed historical notes that provide important context to the extraordinary wartime heroics of Captain America and the Howling Commandos.

The Ghosts Of Who I Used To Be by Brenda (Post-WS | 107K | Mature): Steve thought once he found Bucky again, the hard part would be over. But the real journey back to each other was only just beginning. They each had a path to take - a path of redemption and self-discovery, a path of self-destruction and revenge. Along the way, they would need to rediscover each other: as family, as friends, and something new. They would also have to learn that this new chance at life wasn't really about starting over; it was about moving on. (Part 2 of Came Back Haunted)

Political Animals by crinklefries, Deisderium (Modern AU, US Politics | 107K | Explicit): Okay, so the real problem is that you shouldn’t fuck your arch-rival, political enemy, and the person you loathe the most in the world where you work. Or like, at least, you shouldn’t keep doing that.But okay, the thing that Descartes or whoever didn’t know was that Steve really tries, but Bucky Barnes has a mouth that should probably constitute an eighth sin or something.Jesus fucking Christ, Sam’s going to kill him.(or—Steve’s best friend is the U.S. Constitution and he can’t seem to stop fucking a hot Republican. They shouldn’t fall in love, but somehow they do. That’s it, that’s the fic.)

Ain't No Grave (Can Keep My Body Down) by spitandvinegar (Post-WS | 107K | Mature): It's six in the morning, and Steve is heading out on a run when he nearly trips over a bouquet of sunflowers on the front steps of his brownstone.For a second paranoia takes over, and he kicks the flowers a little, waiting for them to explode. They don't. They also came with a card, which he picks up. The front of the card has a tasteful picture of the Brooklyn bridge at sunset. It's very nice and sedate, like the kind of card you would buy to give to your boss. On the inside someone has written a short message in big, shaky block letters.I AM SORRY FOR SHOOTING YOU.Steve sits down hard on the steps.

War, Children by Nonymos (Modern AU, Veteran Bucky, Homeless Steve | 106K | Explicit): After Bucky was released from the hospital, it only took him a couple of weeks to give up on himself. Difficult to believe in any kind of future when the simple act of staying alive was almost too big an effort. Out the frosted window, across the street, there was a tiny homeless guy burrowing under an awning.

to memory now I can’t recall by Etharei (Canon divergent, Time Travel | 102K | Explicit | Warning: Violence): While on a mission storming a HYDRA facility, James Buchanan Barnes touches one of the many strange alien devices collected by the Red Skull. He does this, in fact, twice— in the past, and in the future.Next thing he knows, Bucky Barnes is opening his eyes in the 21st century, which is full of great gadgets and coffee, and at least includes his old pal Steve. (And, inexplicably, a different Stark.) Meanwhile, the Winter Soldier finds himself in the middle of World War Two, helping Captain America hunt down HYDRA (which is at least familiar), pretending to be Bucky Barnes (which is not), and figuring out the very noisy group of soldiers who call themselves the Howling Commandos.

G.I. Joes and 2AM Diners by OhCaptainMyCaptain (Modern AU, Estranged Childhood Friends | 100K | Explicit | Warning: Violence): They look nothing like what they used to. Time and life have completely changed them. But as they sit there in silence, eating two halves of one cupcake, letting Brooklyn remind there where they came from, and enjoying a sky full of stars… They are those same little boys, somewhere deep down. For just a second, you’d be able to see them again.And Bucky thinks to himself that maybe it’s little moments like these – fleeting as they may be – that remind him why life is still worth living.

Shameless self-rec: like a memory from a dream by Bookbee, Ginny_Potter (Anastasia AU | 93K | Explicit | Warning: Violence): Best friends since childhood, Steve and Bucky couldn’t be more different. Bucky is the sickly heir to the Sokovian throne, while Steve is a mere kitchen boy. Their lives will be forever changed on a cold October night, when HYDRA seizes the power and the Imperial Family disappears from history. After a long and bloody civil war, HYDRA established its power in the country and Steve, former Captain for the losing side, is forced into hiding with a former ally, the Black Widow.But on the thirteenth anniversary of the fall of the Tsar, a rumor spreads in Novi Grad: the Dowager Empress, in her French exile, offers a reward to whoever will find out if one of the Imperial children is still alive. When a mysterious man without a past and bearing an incredible resemblance with Steve’ lost best friend appears out of thin air, looking for a way out of Sokovia, the opportunity is too good to pass…

Scents and Sensibility: The Working Assassin's Guide to Supersoldier Seduction by galwednesday, silentwalrus, skellerbvvt  (A/B/O Canon Divergence | 93K | Explicit): Captain America wakes up from the ice in 2013. The Winter Soldier wakes up in 2009, or rather defects from HYDRA, for a value of defect that’s closer to decimate. He ends up working for SHIELD. In April 2014, he’s assigned to Captain America’s mission as a sniper. Steve’s just trying to get some kind of life together. Bucky is too, or at least he was until tall, blond and Captain shows up and starts just - being there, all the time. It’s terrible. It’s the worst. He has to do something about it.

Latte Art and Slow Dancing in the Dark by deadonarrival (Shrunkyclunks, Sugar Daddy Steve, Veteran Bucky | 89K | Explicit): Bucky is a somewhat well-adjusted former army sniper that got his shoulder blown out. He took his discharge and went home to finish school and is working on his international relations masters. His best friends and roommates (Nat & Clint) are CIA agents and tip him off that their local Sbux is hiring. He gets a job there and meets none other than the hottest guy on earth.So how does one get a date in the most top secret government location in the US? What happens when that guy is more than just a hot dorito and wants to give Bucky everything he wants? Bucky is going to have to figure out his shit and fast. That's what's up.

Like Real People Do series by 2bestfriends (Shrunkyclunks, Cabin Fic | 87K | Explicit): Seven years into an isolated retirement after the Battle of New York, Steve has carved out a place for himself in the foothills of the Catskill Mountains. He has a best friend (his dog, Lady), a frenemy (a local black bear named Rufus), and a cabin in the middle of the woods, an hour's drive from the nearest town. As November comes to a close, he heads into town to pick up supplies and ends up with a stowaway.Bucky hasn't had much luck over the past seven years. Disaster caused his family to move from New York to Indiana, and his life has steadily fallen apart ever since. After one too many heartbreaks, he decides to hitch his way back to the last place he remembers being happy: Brooklyn. He's in the homestretch when he finds himself stranded in a half-empty tourist town in the Catskills and decides to take a chance crawling into the back of someone's truck.

Is It Pretending If I Already Want You? by OhCaptainMyCaptain (Modern AU, Fake relationship | 85K | Explicit): Basic Steps to Getting Yourself In a Pickle With Both Your Family and The Guy You've Secretly Crushed On For Five Years (A Guide): STEP 1: After being perpetually single and constantly making up excuses to your family, give in and lie about having a boyfriend. STEP 2: Agree to bring said boyfriend to the family cottage for a week so he can be your date to your parents' wedding anniversary party. STEP 3: Panic. STEP 4: Say 'yes' when your best friend and closet crush - who you're convinced isn't interested in you that way in the least - offers to be your pretend boyfriend. STEP 5: Try your best not to fall in love with them during the trip. STEP 6: Fail miserably.

The Odyssey by buckyjerkbarnes (Wonder Woman Fusion | 78K | Teen): "No," Diana murmured, "we fight to protect the men, women and children who are suffering uselessly under the thumbs of infantile dictators. Those men are not leaders—they are whining children, bullies to those who hold less power than them."If Steve were awake, Bucky knew damn well he'd have hearts in his eyes.He wasn't the only one who seemed to be having the same series of thoughts as Monty breathed: "My god, there are two of them."[Alternatively known as "The Frisbee Friends" for Diana and Steve set to be future shield-bros. Ranges from 1944 to 2011.]

four dreams in a row where you were burned by voxofthevoid (Time Travel, Canon Divergent | 75K | Explicit): When Steve uses the last of his Pym Particles to travel to 1944 and save his best friend, he doesn’t have a plan beyond leaving behind the battlefield and living his life alongside the people he loves.But time has a will of its own.

couldn't get the boy to kill me series by voxofthevoid (Shrunkyclunks, BDSM | 74K | Explicit): Captain America and the Winter Soldier are a terrifying duo on the field, working together with a well-oiled precision that tears through their enemies. Captain Rogers and Agent Barnes are distant coworkers, all polite nods and mission briefings.Steve Rogers and Bucky Barnes are fire and gasoline; it never ends well.

Into That Good Night by Nonymos (Interstellar AU | 73K | Explicit | Warning: Violence): Steve Rogers has lived for entirely too long—long enough to see the world's end. The heroes are gone, and the Earth is pushing what's left of mankind towards the exit.But when a makeshift team rises from the ashes, when a mysterious presence all but drags Steve there, he begins to think there may be hope yet. As they shoot for the stars one last time, Steve will get proof yet again that the future is nothing if not an echo of the past.

Wanna Feel the Heat With Somebody by 2bestfriends (A/B/O AU, Coworkers | 72K | Explicit): Bucky hasn't exactly been a risk-taker in his life, but when you're not only the baby of the family but also the only Omega, risks aren't encouraged, either. So it comes as a shock to himself and his three older, overbearing sisters when he suddenly quits his shitty but reliable job of five years to accept the unsolicited offer from Stark & Rogers. He can't help hoping this will be his chance to find his own way, for once.Too bad a certain cofounder's scent has him trailing behind the tall, gorgeous Alpha like a lovesick idiot.

One Cloud Feels Lonely by thecommodore_squid (orphan_account) (Post-CW | 72K | Mature | Warning: Violence): “I’m going to take a break for a while,” Steve said quietly, not looking at T’Challa, not knowing that this was what he was gonna do until the words were out of his mouth. “I can’t be on a team right now.” T’Challa nodded as if he understood. “Alright.” AKA In which Steve and Bucky both figure out how to be a person again, and it still takes them over 130 years.

Civilian by alby_mangroves, CoraRochester (No Powers AU, WW2 | 71K | Explicit | Warning: Underage): In 1937, Steve Rogers joins the army, and by 1945, he’s back in Brooklyn, dishonorable discharge in hand and nothing to show for years in the Pacific. In 1947, a seventeen year old Bucky Barnes meets Steve Rogers in a Brooklyn gay bar, and Steve Rogers finally comes home.

despite the threatening sky and shuddering earth (they remained) by praximeter (Zimario) (Post-WS | 71K | Explicit): “They really didn’t want the mask to come off.” Hill thumbed through the scans, and pulled out a film that she then handed over to Sam, face mostly expressionless but for the flat line of her pursed lips.Sam accepted the film and held it up to the light, angling so both he and Steve could see it, squinting at the outline of the Winter Soldier’s skull, and the blips of unnatural white that showed up, God, in his brain, not to mention about half his teeth, plus the mask, with its thin protrusions—“Those are pins,” Steve realized. He looked over at Hill. “The mask—it’s nailed to his face.”Hill’s face was as unmoved as ever. “Like I said. They really didn’t want it coming off.”

in this story, you have claws by voxofthevoid (Canon Divergent, Werewolf Steve | 62K | Explicit): Canon Divergence AU where Steve was turned into a werewolf before Erskine ever met him, Peggy Carter became Captain America, and Bucky Barnes comes in from the cold because of a significantly more furry version of his best friend.

i'm guilty of treason (i've abandoned control) by voxofthevoid (Shrunkyclunks, Nomad Steve, SHIELD Agent Bucky | 57K | Explicit): S.H.I.E.L.D Agent Bucky Barnes is captured on a mission and meets Commander Steve Rogers, the erstwhile Captain America.It escalates quickly.

[kirozai]

First of all I'm really sorry to ask you to write about this but can of please write : the Archons and the reader are like having a small banquet and Baal's servant actually took or mix the wrong ingredients so the God! Reader got poison and wake up not so long after

The reason why i said im sorry earlier bcs i just randomly found this when I was searching for genshin x reader and I found this Sagau but it didn't got saved sadly so until now I'm still searching for it sad yes that's the reason why now I'm obsessed with SAGAU genshin

aaaaa im kinda iffy on this stuff as you may or may not know but since your intentions are pure ill do it

banquet of mistakes

synopsis: the results of the deadly mistake venti, zhongli, and baal make. (the aftermath of the archons fucking up)

CW: hurt/comfort, religious themes, cult au, sagau, self awareness, yandere themes, profanity

type of reader: gn!reader, kindbutkindasalty!reader, darling!reader

“do you believe in the unknown? or does it have to be seen to believe?”

gosh how to even begin this?

baal

how did this happen? everything was so perfect but it just had to be one of hers that messed up. the shame from the others were unbearable and not to mention… you. you were still in a sleep

it’s unbearable for her, but the constant stares and guilt keep her up at night. why did it have to be you who got poisoned? and why did it have to be one of HER servants who messed up

the servant was captured and their punishment will be chosen by you, not only that her punishment, she hopes that you can still love her, still love her like you used to.

after you woke up, she pushed you to drink water, partially because she didn’t want you to be dehydrated, and another part is that she doesn’t want to hear what come out of your mouth.

you are a kind god. yet she can’t help but worry.

“it’s okay baal. thanking you for the apologies but it was a mistake, also please let the servant go zhongli.”

it’s.. okay? it’s. okay.. it’s okay!

god she didn’t expect to hear that!

trust that now, you precautions will be much higher. there will be no chance at all for you getting sick. and also, during the recovery process, expect her to be at your care no matter what.

zhongli

something was.. off. but he couldn’t sense it. nothing seemed wrong. so why was he feeling this way?

he should’ve listened to his gut. and maybe, just maybe. you wouldn’t be completely passed out from that mortal sin the servant committed.

how could baal let this happen? does she not train her servants. no zhongli knew in the beginning there should be no one but him to care for your goods.

every second that went by he wanted to rip the servant to shreds. but he knew how you would think about it. you never really enjoyed them doing anything without your permission.

he blames baal for most of it, yet he himself should’ve known and listened to himself. and he should’ve listend to himself to rip the servant to shreds anyways because he would be going punishment-free!

your kindness, he always said, was given to the wrong people.

he was one who was there when you were waking up.

he has this habit where he sorts of, bombards you with questions.

“are you alright?”

“how are you feeling?”

“do you need anything”

it takes a bit for things to go back to normal, everyone is on alert ready for it if it comes. yet through your words, things come back in to place.

venti

i’d like to say venti is probably the most clear-headed out of the three in my opinion.

with the only one with some type of common sense in the situation, he finds himself trying to calm the archons and himself, without getting sliced by lightning or thrown a meteor at.

the “poison” was just an ingredient that you reacted negatively to.

you’d be okay. he knew that, you were strong.

he plays soft harp music while watching over you.

he’s right you know?? it really wasn’t that bad i mean to be honest, you were only out for a couple hours.

he still is quite mad at baal and the servant though.

he agrees with zhongli that they both should get harsher punishments.

but, who is he to question your word?

he tastes your food a bit first, and although getting scolded is a pain, at least he knows the foods you eat are safe.

just this once though. he will only be normal once, and if it happens again? the winds of teyvat won’t be the ones you and venti enjoy walking in.

holy cheese this was really long and i just noticed my last post was eleven days ago…

kirozai out!

tips! (very appreciated!)

[softrozene]

Not Going Anywhere

@valzella​ requested: If you don’t have too many requests at the moment, may I request a FO4 Maccready x amnestic reader? Or if you don’t like writing maccready then you can choose whomever of your liking!

m.m

GOOOOSHHHH I couldn’t decide how much angst I wanted so I just went for it, but don’t worry, it is definitely a happy ending! Thank you so much for requesting (especially for F04, makes me wanna play again for the 500th something time alfjdlksa) Anyway, I hope you enjoy Lovely!

Joseph MacCready x Amnestic Reader (Gender-Neutral/Nonbinary)

*For those who don’t know, Amnesia refers to the inability to remember events, memories, information, and sometimes the person’s identity for a period of time often due to brain injury, illness, or the effects of drugs or alcohol.

Warnings: Amnesia due to a mild brain injury (aka concussion), mentions of a battle with ghouls (So very angsty with Mac being in his feels :’) ) mention of blood loss for reader, recovery, angst, and of course fluff/happy ending

Words: ~2,6k

-

“What’s wrong, Baby? That has to be your tenth drink by now and I don’t see your lover by your side,” Magnolia’s lovely voice breaks MacCready’s brooding thoughts.

MacCready huffs at her. “Not in the mood tonight, Magnolia.”

“Not even for my music? You always love a good song,” Magnolia states as Whitechapel Charlie pours MacCready another drink.

It is silent, aside from the low jazz playing in the background. Magnolia is due to go back on stage in a few minutes as the drifters wait for her beautiful voice to continue with her sweet songs. MacCready has half the mind to leave. Hell, he really wants to, but he can’t, and that thought is slowly killing him. He can’t leave and go to where his partner is.

That is until he hears a gruff voice. “Leave the gloomy man alone, Magnolia. Trust me, Sunshine. You don’t want to mess with him right now,” Hancock’s gravelly voice calls out from the stairs.

Hearing his voice, MacCready is up on his feet and making his way to the ghoul mayor. Seeing him, MacCready already knows that there is good news. Being stuck back in Goodneighbor was driving him up the wall, but now at the possibility of good news, he was ready to leave. He is ready to return to you.

Hancock starts to go up the stairs with MacCready close behind. Slowly he begins to talk, “Deacon is here. Waiting at the gate. Seems like (Name) really is a tough survivor. They made it through their surgery, but you should know… Something isn’t right with their head.”

Hearing that sends alarms through MacCready’s body. “What do you mean?”

“You know when you said (Name) was sick and acting a bit funny before they passed out with you and Deacon? Well, those were symptoms of a concussion. I don’t know the details, and honestly don’t wanna hear ‘bout them. Too gruesome to hear about when I care about them. All I care about is that they are alive. So, ask whoever fixed them up, but just be cautious. Deacon may have more,” Hancock explains as he walks MacCready to the gate.

There Deacon was, dressed as a drifter and ready to go. He seemed anxious as he saw MacCready and it makes MacCready feel kind of bad since their departure… Things got rather heated, and his bruised hand was definitely not better now.

Hancock says goodbye and once it is just the two, Deacon smiles a bit awkwardly. “Hey, Mac… No hard feelings between us, right Bud?” Deacon asks and MacCready swears he can hear a smidge of guilt in his voice.

MacCready sighs. “No. We’re good. How’s your eye?”

“Like hell. You threw a pretty good hit, Mac. But it’s all good. I understand why you did it. Hell, if I wasn’t allowed to go to a creepy secret underground place with my partner, I would have done the exact thing. Maybe worse, but who knows,” Deacon says slightly joking.

MacCready has a feeling he isn’t though. He sighs. “Give it to me straight. How are they? Can I see them now?”

“Yeah, man. No problemo. Had to clear it with my Boss, so you are good to enter our secret cave. Again, they just took security precautions since they didn’t know you, but now that I vouched for you and they were able to get clear confirmation from (Name) that they trust you, you are all good to go. As for (Name) themselves… Uh… It’s kind of awkward, not gonna lie.” Deacon suddenly seems grim.

MacCready glares at him. “What the fuc- what the hell, do you mean by awkward? Are they good or not?”

“Uh, yes. Yes. They are fine physically. They are going to recover just fine. But uh, you’ll see. You are going to talk with our doctor. Doctor Carrington. He’s kind of a stiff man, but he will be completely honest since I don’t know how to exactly break it to you. Just… We will be there soon,” Deacon says going silent, prepared to lead MacCready to the Railroad’s HQ.

As they walk in silence, MacCready can’t help but think back on all that has happened. Just a few days ago, both of you were traveling along the Mass Pike Tunnel, not in it, just around it when you came closer to the East point of it. MacCready noticed the dead raiders first. He noticed that something felt off and so did you, but before either of you could say anything, did a horde of ghouls come from out of the tunnel after hearing you talk.

Under normal circumstances, it would have been easy to pick them off, but you and Mac have been traveling for days, trying to make it back to Goodneighbor to rest up at the hotel. You both were running on low fuel, and it was obvious when you even wanted to just run. They were fast and there were too many. They caught up too quickly and you had no choice but to fight while being on top of an old vehicle in an attempt for safety.

While both of you were picking off the ghouls one by one, it was a simple, but a fatal mistake on your part that neither of you noticed until much later. You slipped off the vehicle and hit your head pretty hard, the ghouls getting on top of you and MacCready remembers the pure adrenaline, the pure fear he felt when he saw that scene. He remembers what happened to Lucy and how she died. He was not going to let that happen to you. He would rather die than let you meet the same fate. He jumped off the vehicle and it was a blur for him as he took on the ghouls mainly by himself, getting their attention off you as he fought them off.

It felt like hours for him but was likely minutes before he got the last ghoul, and only then did he realize your injuries were worse. When you fell, you landed on your sharp melee weapon, the nasty injury bleeding badly, but you both have been through worse. Once he was sure the area was clear, he was quick to attend to your injuries, using whatever bandages you had, whatever stimpaks you had to bring your health up and to get the bleeding to slow down. Your stomach was bandaged, and those bandages had been tightly tied around your midsection.

The goal then was to still make it to Goodneighbor. MacCready was desperate to get you help there, to make sure that your injury was not that severe, but he didn’t know any good doctors there and he sure as hell didn’t want to go to Diamon City with how snobby the residents were there. Even you didn’t want to go back and in hindsight, it would have been a better idea since it was closer. Yet you both continued on. The closer you got to Goodneighbor, the more tired you got. You were beginning to bleed through the bandages and the sight made MacCready sick to his stomach. It was okay though; he knew you would make it. You had to make it. You didn’t fall to the ghouls as his Lucy did, so you had to continue to make it, or he would lose his goddamn mind.

Then another problem arises. Goodneighbor was just around the corner, but you would have to go through the super mutants to get there. MacCready was ready to go all out, but looking at the slowly declining shape you were in… It wasn’t a good idea in the slightest. He thanks whatever fate is truly out there when he heard a low whistle that grabbed his attention. You didn’t seem to hear it. In fact, you seem as if you were slowly losing focus on your surroundings as you did your best to keep standing. Though, he noticed you looked incredibly twitchy as you did so.

“Mac, (Name),” MacCready heard the whispered shout of a familiar voice.

He turned to see Deacon hiding in an abandoned building. MacCready made his way over there, holding your hand tightly to lead you that way.

“Holy shit, I thought it was you guys but, (Name) isn’t looking so hot,” Deacon states as soon as you both made it into the building.

You look up and ask with confusion, “Deacon, what are you doing here? Where… Is here?”

That question had the two freeze up, especially with the confusion and slight fear suddenly clouding your eyes as you glanced around the place.

“We had a run-in with a horde of ghouls. (Name) got hurt falling off a car. We’re headed to Goodneighbor but…” MacCready starts.

Deacon nods in realization. “The doctors there have their hands full… With some packages. We can take (Name) to the Railroad HQ, it’s a bit further away, north of Goodneighbor, but damn do we have a good doctor.”

“You think you can make it (Name)?” MacCready asks.

Your voice suddenly turns irritated as you ask, “Make it where?”

Once again, the two males freeze up at the question, and they didn’t have much time to dwell on why you were afflicted with confusion when you suddenly bent over and threw up. You looked so unwell, and Deacon was quick to put a hand on your forehead while MacCready held you up.

“They’re pretty clammy. That sure is a lot of blood loss. Let’s get going.”

That was the goal until you passed out, out of nowhere. Only then did the two realize what a fatal position you were in. It was hard to get you to Goodneighbor when you lost unconsciousness but when you woke up it was even harder as you were so confused and agitated, not wanting to be touched but wanting to lay down.

Thankfully, they got you there, but that was when MacCready found out he wasn’t allowed to go in since Deacon couldn’t clear it with Desdemona. When Deacon told him that after you were safely inside, he may have lost it in a moment of anger and took it out on Deacon’s face, being told by Deacon and a few others to leave and that Deacon will be in touch.

That leaves him here and anxious as he and Deacon made it back to the Old North Church where the Railroad HQ lies underneath. He is nervous now, so nervous to see the state you are in. He is happy to hear that you are recovering, but something is leaving a bad taste in his mouth. Deacon leads him inside and through some old tunnels in silence until they are in the main room where a bunch of Railroad agents speaks among themselves.

A woman comes to greet them along with what MacCready assumes is their doctor. “Hello there, I’m Des and I do want to apologize for not allowing you to enter. With our lack of information on you, we have to be cautious, but that is in the past now. (Name) is resting on that mattress over there.”

MacCready’s eyes go to where you are and indeed, he sees you sleeping. The doctor speaks. “I’m Doctor Carrington and I was made aware that you are (Name)’s partner. I have some unfortunate news for you. They are fine. I managed to clean their wound and stitch it up, but it is their head injury I am more nervous about for now. They have a concussion. Deacon told me that you said they fell off a car. Did they hit their head in the fall?”

“Yeah… Yeah they did,” MacCready states his mouth feeling dry.

Doctor Carrington frowns. “That is what I am afraid of. They seem to have a mild concussion. Deacon told me of their symptoms before they were brought here. Shakiness, confusion, nausea, and unconsciousness, all of those are symptoms. Thankfully, it has been a few days since then and with the rest they are having they seem to be a lot better. Unfortunately… They do not remember quite a lot of things.”

“What are you talking about? They don’t remember what?” MacCready asks suddenly irritated at the thought that you have amnesia.

He is happy you are fine, but if he loses you in this way too… He feels defeated. He will take his time to get to know you all over again, but he feels so hurt. But you are safe now, that he can definitely live with.

“(Name) remembers who they are. They remember quite a lot, but… They do not remember Deacon at all. I believe because this traumatic injury happened when they saw Deacon, so we are under the assumption that…” Doctor Carrington pauses.

MacCready scowls. “They won’t remember me.”

The three with him nod their heads and Des excuses herself to go stand where her plans are. Doctor Carrington continues in a solemn tone, “It has only been four days since the concussion occurred. They can only heal with rest and being watched carefully. I believe when they are fully healed from the concussion their memory will start to come back. It is all temporary, that much I can assure you since their head was only banged up a smidge. Even so, when you speak to them, try not to cause them stress as it could worsen their symptoms.”

He takes his leave and Deacon sighs. “So… Uh, I will be in that corner if you need me. And try not to worry MacCready. I can’t stand a good friend not remembering me, so I promise you that they will remember us in time.”

MacCready says nothing but begins to slowly walk to your mattress. His heart falls at seeing the slightly ripped shirt you are wearing, revealing fresh tightly bound bandages, to ensure that you don’t rip open your stitches. You appear to be sleeping so soundly so he takes a seat by you, his hand reaching for your own and the warmth reassures him. He really can live without you remembering him. He can because you are alive and that is all that matters to him.

Slowly you begin to stir, your hand clenching his tightly from being aware of the warmth as your eyes begin to open. They find him and slowly a smile forms on their lips before confusion crosses their face.

“You… Must be MacCready?” You ask slowly.

He nods his head, forcing a smile on his lips. “Yeah, I am. How are you feeling?”

“So tired. Weak. But better. I… This is weird, but I suddenly feel a lot safer now that you are here. I don’t know you, but the other guy, Deacon I think, was telling me about you. I’m sorry I can’t remember you, but… I felt like something was missing when I woke up. And just now, I felt so full and just safe,” you say a bit breathless.

It makes MacCready’s heart swell with joy.

“I understand if you want to leave. It might be weird waiting until my memories come back but I would under-“

“No. I’m not going anywhere. Ever again. I was losing my damn mind wondering how you were. I don’t care if you don’t have your memories. My place is meant to be by your side. Even at the slim chance of your memories not coming back… I would stay,” MacCready states completely serious.

He is never leaving your side again. The heartache and worry he has felt these past few days with just drinking at the Third Rail have been hell for him. Seeing your eyes soften at the sight of him and the fact you feel safe with him even if you don’t remember who he is… Yeah, he is staying. No matter what.

Your small laugh you let escape fills his heart with love. It grows as you say, “Thank you then… Mac. I look forward to remembering you.”

And he looks forward to it too.

[arttuff]

Okay, so I've wanted to get top surgery for years, but I have no idea how to get it started? Do you just like, call up your doctor and be like "hey can you cut off my tits thx?" How did you get started? (And how much did it cost...) Hope this isn't too personal, thanks.

this is gonna be real informal cuz im just some dude im not a professional

here’s a super basic overview of how I went about it :) let me know if you have any questions anon! I’ll be happy to take a stab at answering

disclaimer is i live in australia so this is probably very specific to australia but if it helps, medicare (our public healthcare) didnt cover much except a couple hundred off the anaesthetist’s fee (but i wont include that in my estimate ily americans)

also this is just how i did it im sure everyone goes about it differently

but my first step was hrt (you dont need to go on hrt for top surgery but if you do it's recommended 6 months on testosterone before you get the surgery so you can get pecs goin beforehand and have more natural looking results. my pecs were juicy as hell by the time i got top surgery, so much so that my mum was surprised lol truly living up to my artstyle)

to do that i had to get a letter from my psychiatrist (this was covered by medicare) saying that i have a documented history of gender dysphoria and am mentally sane enough to seek treatment for it (this is just because of my medical history im pretty sure that not everyone has to do that plus you can look into informed consent)

with that letter of gender confirmation in your hot little hand you can then google around to find who it is you want to be doing your top surgery! i am so insanely lucky that i live in the biggest city in my country, meaning i had some good options. i settled on an award winning plastic/cosmetic surgeon that specialises in gender reassignment-- i love his results, and im so glad i went with him everything looks better than i expected it's so worth it!!!!

anyway once you choose a doctor you ring up and ask for a consultation-- this is not bulk billed but medicare can rebate a bit i think

thanks to covid all of the openings for consultations were full so i rang back once a week for 6 months (oh my god that's obsessive as fuck now that i put it together) until they had an opening

at the consultation you pretty much talk to your doc to let them know what you want, your identity, etc. im a nonbinary butch lesbian and i wanted some pecs but no nipple reconstruction (no nips no worries mate xx) and he made sure i was certain that's what i wanted and that i know the risks associated

the doc gives you an estimation and you decide whether you want to go through the public system (i think this is australia specific) and get put on a waiting list for 3+ years depending on demand, or do it privately (medicare, which everyone has, plust any private healthcare-- i have none)

i decided to go private because i do not think i could handle that wait, and ended up just being able to make it through with overtime at work heehee :) but good lord my wallet is starving

the cost is split up 3 ways between the doctor’s fees, the anaesthetist’s fees, and the hospital fees. there’s more expenses if you stay overnight at the hospital, so it’s better if you have someone to take you home and look after you

so all up i saved money in 2 places: the surgery itself was shorter because there was no nipple reconstruction, and i didn’t stay overnight so i didn’t have to pay that massive amount

all up my cost of surgery was around $11 000 aud (which is around usd $7 600) and the estimate he gave me was $14 000 aud ($9 600 usd) 

that’s a vague and rambly overview! let me know if there’s anything you’re confused about anon! or if there’s any questions you have about top surgery recovery etc :) remember i can only give my perspective from how it’s done in australia I’m sure it’s way different elsewhere in the world

[musings-of-a-rose]

Meet the Millers - Chapter 8

Pairing: Joel Miller x Benny Miller x Will Miller x f!reader

Word Count: 4100+

Rating: Mature - 18+ ONLY!

Warnings: Bear in mind the pairing of this fic along with the fact it’s set in a post-apocalyptic setting, so there will be themes and elements fitting the setting. Just like ao3, “creator chooses not to use warnings.” If you click Keep Reading, that means you agree that you’re the age to handle mature themes. Also by clicking Keep Reading, you understand warnings may not be complete in order to avoid spoilers for the story.

Notes: I hit 200 followers and wanted to give y’all a little something so I did a poll and let you pick what one shot I write next. This is what y’all picked! I hope I can deliver. I started this out as a one shot and it MAJORLY got away from me, so now it’s a mini series. Thank you so much for following me and reading my ramblings! Also a shoutout to @astoryisaloveaffair for helping me figure out how things work and being an amazing sounding board, @icanbeyourjedi for helping me to settle on a filter for this moodboard, and @theewokingdead for being delightfully appalled at how many words this one shot has turned into and cheering me on with memes and gifs.

This is set loosely in The Last of Us universe. I’ve only played a bit of the game and watched others play (and the show isn’t out yet), so please forgive any inaccuracies. Also it’s a post-apocalyptic world so I’m taking a bunch of liberties here. Because fan fiction.

Ages at the time of this story (so you don’t have to do math):

Reader: 28

Benny: 35

Will: 38

Joel: 50

*Reader is ethnicity inclusive despite stock photo bias

**If you want to be added to the taglist, join here or let me know!

<<Chapter 7

Santi’s daughter, Leila, makes a full recovery, her fever breaking just after the second cup of tea. His wife hadn’t left Leila’s side since she got sick, but as Leila gained her strength back, his wife pulled you into a big hug, tears running down her face as she thanked you for everything.

“Joel was right - you are an angel.”

A couple of days later, you’re lacing up your boots to head home, your heart desperately needing your boys. All…3? You’re not sure what’s happening with Joel, but you want to see them anyway. Santi walks you to the door as his wife reads Leila a book in her bedroom.

“Ghost, I- I can’t thank you enough for this. I tried everything I could and she…she could’ve…” you see tears starting to slowly fall from his eyes and you pull him in, hugging him tightly as he cries into your shoulder.

“You’re a great dad, Santi. I can see it.”

He pulls back from you, wiping his eyes on his sleeve. “Thank you, hermosa. I- thank you. You’ll be ok walking home? Weren’t you supposed to wait for Joel?”

“I’ll be fine.”

Santi opens the door and you hear a southern drawl meet you.

“I thought I told you I was goin’ to escort you.” Joel was standing with one hip cocked, both hands on his hips.

“Well I couldn’t wait around for you all day. The Garcia’s need their home back.”

“You’re welcome back any time, hermosa. We mean it. Anything you need, we’re here.”

“Thanks, Santi.” You give him one last quick hug before turning to follow Joel. He leads you to your home and you groan as you push the key in the lock to open the door.

“Everythin’ alright?” Joel follows you in as you shut the door behind you.

“Yeah I just…I’m just gonna grab some clothes real quick and shower at your place. My hot water is virtually non-existent here and will take forever to heat up.”

Joel nods and walks around your living space, looking at everything you have out. You’re not sure why you’re nervous, something about the man seeing your things feels…personal. Like you would be judged. You shrug it off and head to your room, gathering up some clothes and such that you’ll need. You’re about to tell Joel it’s time to go when you yell.

“Shit!”

Slapping your forehead, you rush to your kitchen and Joel joins you, concern deep on his face.

“What is it, angel?”

“I forgot to leave out food for Pockets!” You grab up any food you can find and stuff it in another bag, seeing the questioning look on Joel’s face.

“It’s for the raccoon in the alley. I…named him Pockets.”

He simply nods, as if he wasn’t surprised, and you walk past him, grabbing your backpack and bow as you both head out the front door. Stopping in the alley briefly to leave the food in Pocket’s normal spot, you follow Joel back to the Miller home. He explains that Will is off in another sector overseeing some backend reports and Benny has another day of training.

Entering their home, you feel all of the tension of the last week leave your body. You audibly sigh, setting down your bow and your bag, looking around for a moment as if you’d forgotten what the place looked like.

“I’m going to shower,” you tell Joel as you grab your backpack, heading down the hallway to the guest bathroom.

“When you get out, I’ll make us some lunch.”

“Sounds good!”

Closing the door behind you, you quickly shed the clothes that you’d been wearing since you left, tossing them in a pile to wash later. The shower springs to life and warms up within a minute, and you get in, audibly moaning as the hot water hits your bare skin. Taking your time to wash, you watch as the dirt from your skin and hair mixes with the water, swirling down the drain in quick circles. Once you’re clean, you stand there for a few more minutes, enjoying the way your muscles relax under the heat and water. Once you start to feel the water get slightly cooler, you know it’s time to get out. You want the hot water to heat back up in time for Will and Benny to shower later.

Stepping out, you towel yourself off, brushing your teeth just to get the stale taste out. You pull on a tank top and shorts, knowing you’ll probably get cold later tonight but not really caring at the moment. Making your hair presentable, you leave the bathroom and head into the kitchen, moving around to make some lunch.

“I thought I said I’d make lunch.” Joel is leaning against the door frame, his arms crossed as you continue to make some sandwiches.

“I don’t mind. Really. Gives me something to do.”

He doesn’t move but instead gives in to your idle chatter, telling him all about Pockets and when you first got to Boston. Both of you stand in the kitchen, eating your lunch and chatting, making the whole thing seem very domestic. Joel cracks a joke at something just as you were taking a drink and you sputter, coughing as you half choke half laugh at what he said. You grab a rag and dry yourself off as best you can, turning to look at Joel.

“You missed a spot, angel.”

You swipe the rag across your chest and raise your eyebrows at him.

“No, it's higher.”

You swipe the rag higher up, but Joel shakes his head chuckling.

“Nope.”

“Come on, Joel! Is there something even there?” You furiously try to dab at your skin.

In 2 steps Joel is in front of you, lightly grabbing your chin and tilting your head up to expose your neck. He swipes his thumb across the underside of your chin, down the side of your neck, gathering up the water you missed. His thumb crosses over the mostly faded bruise marks around your neck from where the man had tried to choke the life out of you. He gently grazes the skin there, turning your head to the other side to check on the bruising there. Both of his hands are on your neck now, fingers wrapped around the back of your head, and his thumbs have moved to the underside of your jaw, gently tracing the line of it. Your heart races as he caresses your skin, every touch leaving a burning sensation that spreads over your body. When his eyes finally find yours, you recognize that look from before - dark and full of desire. He moves his head down and you close your eyes, but his lips don’t find yours. Instead, he rests his forehead on yours.

“I’m so much older than you, angel.” You can feel his warm breath on your face, feeling how they have become deeper, as if trying to contain himself.

“I don’t care.”

“22 years.”

“That just means you have more…experience..s…”

“Don’t tempt me.”

“Don’t tempt you? When you t-touch me l-like this? I feel like-” you let out a breath as Joel moves to the side of your neck, his Romanesque nose gently tracing a path down and you hear him inhaling your scent. Your hands come up and slowly cup his face, pulling him up to meet your gaze, pouring all of your desire for him into your eyes. He moves his head down slowly, his lips just barely touching yours in the softest kiss you’ve ever received. He pulls back and takes a few breaths, staring into your eyes.

And then the restraint snaps.

He surges forward, pulling you to him and licking at your lips, begging for entry. You part your lips and he pushes in, your tongues dancing around each other as he glides his across your bottom teeth. Your hands slide around to the back of his head, winding into the curls that you’ve been dying to touch since you met him, and you give a small tug. Joel moans into your mouth and grabs your hips, pushing you into the counter as he squeezes your skin. His hands start to travel up and down your body, tracing your curves and lines before he finds the bottom of your shirt and tugs it up. You break the kiss to toss it off and Joel moves to undo your bra in one swift motion and you toss it in the same general direction as your shirt. He looks down at your chest and his tongue darts across his bottom lip as he bends down, lifting a boob and running his nose along it. He finally takes one into his mouth and sucks gently, swiping his tongue over your nipple as he takes the other boob in his hand, slowly and gently rolling that nipple between his fingers.

“Oh fuck,” you whine out at his touch.

Your hands grip his biceps, trying to find purchase as he continues to suck and bite at your boobs, switching from one to the other. He slowly kisses up your chest and neck, his lips finding yours again and you throw your arms around his neck, pulling him to you as you toss your leg over his hip as you deepen the kiss. After a few moments, your arms trace down his body, feeling just how broad his shoulders are as you finally find the bottom of his shirt. You grip it and start to inch it up but a firm grasp on your wrist stops you as Joel pulls back from the kiss.

“I’m not as..fit as my brothers, angel.”

“I couldn’t give any less fucks, Joel. I want to feel your skin on mine.” You try and lift it again but he squeezes your wrist.

“Angel, I-” and you see the embarrassment in his features. “-I’m just so much older.”

You push him back slightly and for a moment, he looks hurt. Until you drop to your knees, gently pulling the bottom of his shirt out. You look up at him with big doe eyes as you move closer, making sure to use his shirt to cover your eyes as your lips find the bare skin of his stomach. You place a few kisses and hear his breathing hitch as you swirl your tongue around his happy trail. You slide your hands inside his shirt, gently caressing his sides as you continue to kiss and lick his lower stomach.

“I feel nothing that I don’t want to see Joel.” You drop his shirt and stand back up, his eyes nearly black with lust.

“I like you, Joel. I want all of you. But if you’re not ready, that’s ok too. I-” you’re cut off by the sudden motion of Joel all but ripping the shirt from his body, throwing it aside and watching your face as you scan down his exposed chest.

“You’re beautiful, Joel.”

His tanned skin stretches across broad shoulders and down to a slimmer waistline. He has some chest hair that picks back up under his bellybutton, curling down into his pants. Your eyes roam over his skin, noticing all of the scars and marks from his hard life and over the swell of a tiny tummy. You reach out and drag your nails across his chest, feeling him growl under your hands as he kisses you hard, pulling you to him so your skin makes contact. He’s warm and soft, your nipples hardening as his skin grazes them. He grips your hips and starts to walk you backwards towards his room, pausing once to scan your face for consent, which you give him by pulling on his pants towards the room.

Joel’s room is the biggest in the home - king sized bed with an en suite bathroom. It’s not heavily decorated, a picture of him with his brothers on the dresser in a basic frame and a painting of a farm hanging on the wall. Joel closes the door and walks back over to you, pulling your face to him to kiss you. His hands roam down to find your shorts and he slides them down and they drop to the floor with your panties and you kick them off across the room. Your hands find his pants and you undo the button and zipper, sliding them down his legs as he kicks them off along with his boxers. Both of you step back to take the other in.

“You really are an angel.” Joel says in awe.

You roll your eyes playfully as you hop onto the bed, scooting back and curling your finger to beckon him over. He obliges, climbing onto the bed and hovering over you as you lay down, kissing you deeply before continuing down your neck. He pays some more attention to your boobs, loving the way you shift beneath him as you whine. He continues his path down your body and just before he reaches your core, he pushes your legs open wide. His face hovers over your apex as he stares down at you hungrily. He turns his face, kissing along your inner thigh and sucking a hickey there. He moves towards your core when you find your voice.

“Wha- what are you doing?”

“I’m gonna taste you, angel.”

“What..do you mean?”

Joel’s head pops up as he stares at you, looking for any indication of a joke. Finding none, he looks shocked.

“Has no one ever tasted you before?”

“What does that mean? Tasted?”

“Oh angel. You just lay back and let me show you. I promise I’ll take care of you. Do you trust me?”

You swallow hard but nod. “Of course.”

“Lay back, angel. I’ve got you.”

You lay back on the pillows, feeling very self conscious of Joel’s face between your legs. He starts kissing your inner thighs again, moving around your pubic area. You feel heat rising in your core as he runs his nose through your curls. He continues this for a little bit and you feel the tension inside you building. You’re not sure what he means by “taste” because all he’s done so far is-

Oh.

Joel flattens his tongue and licks up you from entrance to clit, swirling his tongue around your bundle of nerves.

“Oh shit!” you cry out, your body slamming your legs together and knocking into Joel’s head. He chuckles and you feel it vibrating through you, crying out again as he grabs both of your legs and pushes you wide open. He shoves his broad shoulders a little further between your legs, using them to hold you open. Propping yourself up just enough to look between your legs, Joel looks at you, his eyes nearly black with lust as he gives you a wink and a smirk, lowering his head back down.

He starts slow, alternating using the tip of his tongue and flattening it as he licks you up and down, surprising you when he randomly circles your clit. He traces your entrance and you moan as he glides away from it, moving back up to tap at your bundle of nerves. He slides back down but this time, his tongue pushes inside you as he fucks you with it.

“Fucking hell, Joel,” you whine out, you hands moving to grip the back of his head.

You tug the hair you find and he growls, vibrating your entire center and you gasp at the sensations. He pulls his tongue out and slides his nose up your seam, following it with his tongue. He arrives at your clit and caresses it with his tongue, bringing his hand up to swirl a finger around your entrance. He gathers up enough of your arousal to gently and easily slide into you and your head flies back, mouth open in a silent O as he pulls out and adds a second finger.

He slowly slides his fingers in and out as he circles your bundle of nerves with his tongue, caressing it now and again with his nose. Sliding them in once more, he curls his fingers and taps on a soft spot inside you that has you crying out, pulling his hair tighter.

“I got you, angel. Just feel me.”

Joel starts to scissor his fingers, tapping that spot repeatedly while paying extra attention to your sensitive clit, and you get lost in the feeling of it all - simultaneously not enough and way too much stimulation, you feel the heat in your belly raging, shoving you towards the edge. A few more gentle taps from Joel has you seeing stars, screaming his name while you tense with the power of your orgasm, holding him to you as he continues, guiding you through your release. Once the waves of pleasure start to subside, you loosen your grip on Joel and he pushes up to crawl over you, watching your face as his own glistens with your arousal.

“How you feelin’, angel?” His fingers brush some hair aside from your face as he stares down at you.

You don’t answer right away, savoring the lingering effects of your orgasm. Joel chuckles knowingly and leans down to kiss you gently. You find your voice when he breaks the kiss.

“How did…what…how do you know how to do…that?”

“Well angel, like I said - I’m so much older than you. Got some experiences that others wouldn’t.”

“That’s for fuck sure. That was…I’ve never…fuck.”

You feel his erection press against your opening, but he makes no move to thrust into you, choosing to study your face instead.

“We don’t have to do anythin’ else if you don’t want to, angel.”

Your face gets serious at this. “I want to…do you?”

“No man can resist the desire of a beautiful woman, especially one he cares about. But I don’t want you to feel like you owe me anythin’.”

Thinking that he sounds exactly like his brother, but opting to keep that to yourself, you place your hands on either side of his face, making sure he’s looking at you when you speak.

“You care for me?”

Joel takes a deep breath. “I haven’t been familiar with this feeling in quite some time, but..you’ve dug your way into my head. I can see why they didn’t want to let you go.”

You rub your thumbs over his cheeks and smile. “I care for you too, Joel.”

Smiling at each other, you trace his patchy facial hair with your thumbs.

“Not to sound overly dramatic, Joel. But if you don’t fuck me I will literally die.”

A deep laugh erupts from Joel and you’re joining in, both laughing until tears come out the corners of your eyes.

“Not to sound overly dramatic, huh?” The laughter starts to fade and he leans forward to kiss you, stopping to speak against your lips.

“How can I say no?”

He pushes in as he kisses against your open mouth, now stuck in an O shape as you feel him stretch you. He’s bigger than his brothers and you feel every ridge, every vein, every inch as he makes his way inside you fully. When he finally bottoms out, he moans into your mouth, both of you breathing heavily as he gives you a moment to adjust.

“Shit, angel. You feel..ngh… fuckin’ amazin’.”

Chest heaving, you manage to choke out “You…stretch me so…good.”

Joel groans and pulls out of you to slowly inch back in, moaning the entire way, just feeling you and letting you feel him.

“Please…please..” You need him to move or not move, something, anything. All you know is you want him.

“I don’t want to…ugh…hurt you, angel. Givin’ you a..ngh..moment to….shit…adjust.”

Joel leans down to kiss your neck, lightly sucking and something in you breaks. Shifting your head so you speak into his ear, your voice quiet and filled with desire.

“Rail me, daddy.”

Joel snaps and he bites your shoulder, pulling his hips back to slam into you, the sound of skin slapping against skin filling the room. Little whines escape your throat with every thrust as Joel moves you up the bed. He lets go of your shoulder and moves to your neck, latching on, loving the way your arms wrap around him, nails scraping down his back as you pant out incoherently.

He releases your neck and slides his hand down, gripping your thigh and hooking it above his hip changing the angle, each thrust now causing stars to sprint across your vision. He grabs your wrists next and pins them above your head, moving down to take a nipple in his mouth.

“Fuking hell! Shit!” Your brain turns to mush as all you can feel is Joel, his scent mixing with the smell of sex filling your nose as you hear him whimper and grunt above you. He picks up the pace, thrusting a little harder when he’s fully inside so he hits that spot in the back of you.

“Joel, I’m gonna..” that’s all the warning you have as your orgasm comes crashing into you, wave after wave of pleasure pulsing over you as you chant his name, unable to move as your entire body was pinned by him. Feeling his hips start to sputter as you come down, you know he’s close.

“I can’t wait to feel you fill me up.” You say it with all the lustful innocence you can muster and it works.

Joel cries out, thrusting hard once into you as he comes, spilling himself inside you as he grips your wrists tighter, pushing them deeper into the bed. His hips thrust into you a few more times, each one less intense than the last as he comes down, breathing heavily and collapsing on top of you, releasing your wrists finally. You shake them a little to wake them and then bring them to his head, massaging his scalp as your other hand trails across his back. He shutters once before he fully relaxes into you, groaning at your touch. As you gently scratch his head, you push the hair back from behind his ears and see a tiny M tattoo there, matching his brothers.

You stay like that for several minutes before Joel picks his head up to look at you and you move your hand to trace the bald patches in his beard.

“I didn’t hurt you, did I?”

Smiling, you shake your head. “No way. I loved every minute.”

He nods, looking away from you for a moment. “I haven’t…not in a long time.”

“Really? That was your out of practice? Fuck,” you whisper the last word but you still see a small smile appearing on his face.

“I’m honored you’d choose me, Joel.”

“Choose you? Angel, I was yours the moment you held up that knife to my throat.”

Chuckling, you replay the memory in your mind. “That was an interesting first meet.”

Joel pulls out of you and cleans you up, moving to lay next to you so you can cuddle up against him, hand on his chest and leg tossed over his. A couple minutes pass in silence, caressing each other’s skin.

“So..does this mean I have 3 boyfriends now?”

You feel the rumble from Joel’s chest. “You think you’d be ok with an old man like me?”

“An old man who’s sexy as fuck, has those silver hairs that drive me wild, a patchy beard I adore, who has my back, cares for me, AND fucks me like that? I’d be the dumbest person in creation to turn that down. And Joel?” you turn your head up to meet his eyes. “I’ve always had a thing for older men.”

He pulls you up to give you a kiss as you both fall asleep in each other’s arms, thoroughly spent.

—----

You wake a couple hours later, watching Joel move about the room getting dressed.

“Going somewhere?”

“I was tryin’ not to wake you, angel. Yeah, I got a meetin’ with some people to help them move some stuff.”

You nod, knowing he can’t tell you everything and you weren’t going to ask. Sitting up, you find your shorts and shirt, pulling them on as Joel sits on the edge of the bed, sliding on his socks. You watch him concentrating on his socks and a wave of some emotion overtakes you. Walking to stand in front of him, he looks up at you as you push hair out of his face. Leaning down to kiss him, you bend and toss your legs over either side of him, straddling him as you throw your arms around his neck and feel his wrap around you. Making out for a few moments, Joel pulls away reluctantly.

“I…have to go, angel.”

“I know. Just…please be safe.”

He meets your eyes and kisses your nose once.

“Always am.”

—-

Chapter 9>>

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[chiefdirector]

ON A NEED TO KNOW BASIS | Alex Karev | Greys Anatomy | Whumptober 2021

Day 16: recovery, aftermath

Alex had stood still, unmoving, for nearly ten minutes when he heard the news. His wife had been in a plane crash and they hadn't found her yet. They hadn't found her, or Shepherd, Meredith, Lexie: they hadn't found any of them and he felt like he was dying.

The feeling got worse when they had found (Y/N), she was barely alive and had been placed in a medically induced coma to help her body recover. But he knew that the chances that she woke up grew slimmer each day but he couldn't bare to bring himself to take her off the machines. He couldn't do that to his wife, the mother of his child.

That was the hardest part, telling their son, Ethan, that his mother wasn't able to come home right now. His two-year-old brain didn't understand. He cried for his mother to come home most nights; Alex cried over her too, but he never let Ethan see.

Alex started to lose hope when, at 5 O'clock Seattle time, Mark Sloan was taken off life support. He kept thinking to himself that if Sloan pulled through, than his wife would too. But Mark didn't pull through, and (Y/N) was still on life support.

(Y/N) was the love of Alex's life. She was his everything and she had given everything he wanted: she gave him love, hope, a family and now she was here ready to leave him.

He knew that (Y/N) would call him a wimp for leaving her on life support for so long, especially when she had healthy organs which could save someone else from the fate she was in now, but he couldn't bring himself to it.

Meredith came by to see him one day, she was (Y/N)'s primary care doctor. Apparently her vital signs were good, and if she woke up, she would make a full recovery. But Alex had lost his hope in her waking up long ago. And now, he was beginning to make peace with it. If she wasn't awake by the her birthday, he would take the life support off.

The days rolled closer, and life went on. That's the way the world works. (Y/N) had always said that to him. And he knew he was right. All he wanted was for her to say that to him again, to say anything to him again.

The newly named Grey Sloan hospital had kept a place in the Orthopaedic fellowship program open for her for when she woke up. Alex had started his fellowship in paediatrics.

It was two days before her birthday when Meredith checked her vitals again. Everything was the same until when she went to check her circulation. She had felt something grab her hand; (Y/N) had grabbed her hand.

Meredith almost cried in joy. (Y/N) had always been a great friend to her and the thought of loosing someone else she loved was ruining her inside but she wasn't going to lose any more people, not yet anyway.

"What happened?" (Y/N) asked once the breathing tube came out and she had drank some water.

"The plane we were on, it crashed-"

"I mean after: is everyone okay? Derek? Lexie? And what about Alex? How's Ethan?"

Meredith laughed before looking sombre, "Slow down, I'll answer everything."

And she did. Meredith explained about Lexie and Mark. About what happened with the hospital and now how the survivors, which now included (Y/N), had brought the hospital and now were board members with a chair left so (Y/N) if she should so accept. Meredith also talked about Alex: about how he was struggling without her there, about how he began to lose hope, about how he was preparing to take her life support away.

"Where is he?"

"It's 3am, he's at home." Meredith said. "I was going to call him but I got a bit distracted talking to you. I can get him here now."

"Please." (Y/N) said softly, "Get him to bring Ethan. And don't tell him the news, I want to surprise him."

It didnt take long until she heard her husband's voice in the corridor, demanding to know what had happened to his wife. (Y/N) just chuckled softly to herself, Alex had always been over protective of her and she knew he wasn't going to let her out of his sight for a while now.

The door swung open and Alex stopped in his tracks. There she was, his wife, sitting up and talking to the nurse as if nothing had happened.

"(Y/N)?" He said slowly, not believing what he saw.

"Hi baby." She reached out her arms, gesturing for him to pass over their son before shuffling on the bed for him to lay next to her. He complied with her wish, knowing that she would put up a fuss if he didn't. "You okay?"

"I am now."

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[peaceoutofthepieces]

Heartstopper prompt -

Ben makes a mean comment about Charlie’s body in recovery and he struggles with relapsing

first off, happy three months of heartstopper, and thank you so much for 2k followers!? i would love to do a celebration but don’t know how, so if anyone has any thoughts let me know <3 and for now i have this.

this took me way longer than initially planned because i initially wasn’t sure whether to write it or not—it’s a tone i haven’t written in a really long time, and i didn’t want to do it wrong! i can’t speak from experience in this case, but i tried to be as thoughtful and authentic as i believe alice is, and i hope i’ve done okay. but if i haven’t, especially in these instances, please feel free to tell me!

safe to say, warnings for depictions of charlie’s eating disorder and ocd, and thoughts and mentions of self-harm. this tone is more solitaire-like and less fluffy and dialogue-heavy like my other fics (at least for the first half). i want to clarify no actual self-harm occurs, but if you do read, please do so with care.

also, it’s over 6k. fair warning.

~^~

Charlie wasn’t that upset that his plan of moving to Higgs was trashed by the school burning down. Really. He meant what he’d said, about staying with Nick, and it being fine. The upside to it was that he was now already going to school with Tori and all of his friends, anyway. It also brought people back, like Elle, and Michael Holden, who Charlie could now probably say was also his friend. 

It also meant Ben Hope.

The return of his presence shouldn’t have been a big deal. Charlie was planning to switch to Higgs knowing Ben was there, because it still felt like the lesser evil. Now with the schools merging, Truham had to step up from its hellhole slightly. Now, at Truham, the people Charlie wanted to get away from suddenly had more interesting people to bother, and the people he’d wanted to escape to were all here. 

Plus Nick, and Tao, and Aled. 

But mostly Nick. 

It should have been an improvement, really. A better outcome than he’d even initially hoped for. Easier to handle all around. 

Maybe it was still the toxicness of Truham. Charlie had never given much thought to why Ben left (though he assumed it was likely at-least-in-part due to him), but he imagined having to come back would mess with your head, if you’d been trying to escape like he’d planned to. (Michael mostly confirmed this for him. Having Tori and ‘acquaintances like Nick Nelson’ around him now apparently helped. Charlie could understand that part.) 

He realised he’d just never fully thought about having to pass Ben in the hallways again, or to catch sight of him across the courtyard.

Or to have Ben looking back. 

“He knows better than to do anything more,” Nick had said, a little darkly (venomously) with his arm wrapped around Charlie at some point in the first week, when Ben had made the mistake of catching his eye. “If he says one word or comes within ten feet, I swear to God.”

Charlie had murmured platitudes and felt silently sick, but he’d believed Nick was right, for a while. 

But Truham was only so big, and it was impossible to ignore anyone forever—especially if they wanted to be noticed. 

And Ben had never been able to accept Charlie’s attempts to ignore him. 

It didn’t even seem intentional, at first. Charlie didn’t even think any of the boys surrounding the bench knew he was there, right within hearing distance. He’d thought he’d heard his name, in those quiet, scandalised, gossipy tones that had covered it in the past few months since he came back to school. Then he caught more of the conversation, and he knew he’d heard it, amidst claims of it’s not like he can hide it, just look at him and it doesn’t even make sense though and yeah, he hardly thinks he’s fat, does he? like, what’s the point?, and then he caught the more familiar voice, and all his attempts to block it out shattered. 

“I’d be more concerned about how Nelson’s brain works. Hugging a sack of ribs would be bad enough, but he looks like he’d snap in half if you bent him over. Bit of a weird turn on, innit?”

There were quiet, half-embarrassed snickers mingled with outright laughter and a few jeers. Ben’s self-satisfied smirk was unsurprising to Charlie even before Ben’s gaze swiveled directly to him. 

Charlie sucked in a breath, and his fight-or-flight instinct finally overrode the frozen mode he was in. He chose, obviously, to flee. It didn’t matter that he’d mean planning to meet Nick so they could go home together, because Nick didn’t know that. Charlie could spin on his heel and run to his bus, and no one would think anything was amiss. So he did. 

Objectively, Charlie knew what was starting to spin in his brain was wrong. Objectively, he knew Ben was an asshole and his words were meant to hurt Charlie and that didn’t mean they meant anything. Objectively, he knew Nick loved him and that Nick would give a list of ways he found Charlie attractive if asked, and he knew that Nick enjoyed hugs generally, but especially with Charlie. Objectively—realistically—he knew he wouldn’t actually snap in half very easily. 

Objectively, Charlie knew Ben’s words never really meant anything and Ben wasn’t in control of him. 

But, maybe because Charlie’s brain didn’t care about being objective, or maybe because it was Ben, it didn’t matter what meager rationalisations he could come up with. He suddenly felt he had no control over himself, precisely because he’d made control the centre of everything. 

It hadn’t actually gotten him anything he wanted, had it? 

He could take control, and he would take up less space, and he would have less needs, and he wouldn’t feel as bad when he was being annoying and pathetic and undeserving. That was what he’d always thought. That was how it always felt. 

But he had ended up, really, with even more needs. Taking up more spaces. Beyond annoying, pityingly pathetic, so far below undeserving. He was a fool, to think he was in charge of it. He’d made himself ugly, he’d made himself sickly, he’d made himself weak. That was what he’d done, with all his control. 

It had been too much, waiting for the harm to come from somewhere else, and it was always better, once he took matters into his own hands, once he admitted it was the most he deserved, that his lack of strength in ignoring everything going in should of course result in a little pain getting it out. 

It had been too much, holding all the ugliness on the inside. He’d meant to let it out. 

He hadn’t meant for it to cover him instead. 

That hadn’t been his choice, not really. 

He’d never been in control. 

And now he had even less strength than before. 

This is what he managed to think through on the bus, which meant by the time he got home, he’d turned to thinking, I can change that. I can make a different choice. I’m in control of what I do. 

He went straight to the kitchen when he got home, coat and shoes and bag abandoned in the hallway and mind racing and channeled and determined. He went for the cupboards. 

It wasn’t time to eat, but he wasn’t looking for anything on his plan, anyway. He grabbed the bread, and set it on the counter, and stared at it. 

Bread was filling. Bread was fattening. Bread didn’t have all that much of a flavour—he had a lot of choice in what he could put with it. Charlie had seen Nick wolf down slice after slice of bread, toasted or as a sandwich or both, in a matter of minutes, and it was both soft and sturdy, and so was Nick. And it wasn’t unhealthy. He would get some nutrients out of it, and it wasn’t greasy, or slimy, or overly chewy, or even that big, really. Toast, and sandwiches, and even soup paired with one mere slice had all filtered into his meal plans before. And this was brown bread, and that was healthier. There was absolutely nothing wrong with it. 

But the thought of taking out a slice and doing anything with it, of biting into it, of it slipping down his throat and settling into his stomach, felt very, very far from right. 

That was fine. It wasn’t the only option. He could find something else, something a little healthier, something he liked a little more, that still held some weight, that he didn’t really need to take much of. He could find a few things, and then figure out which was best. 

He ended up emptying the cupboard, then moving to the next, then the next, until he had all his options lined out on the counters, vaguely organised by what seemed preferable, and what he’d get the most out of it. 

Maybe he should check the fridge. Maybe having something to pair them with would help. Maybe he could find something light, but nutritious, something that was bulky but didn’t feel like it, that he could eat on its own. Something cool, and smooth, that would slip down easy. 

Once most of the contents of the fridge were organised on the counter, he still hadn’t made up his mind. 

He tried the freezer. 

Then he realised he had everything organised by what seemed most beneficial and least undesirable, but it would be easier to decide if all those things were organised together rather than by cupboard, fridge, and freezer, and he made new stacks, and made those stacks into new bundles. 

His hands were wet and chilly from holding damp and frozen packaging, and that was transferring onto cardboard boxes and plastic-sheet coverings and making them soggy and slippy, which was making his stomach churn, which was making even the least undesirable options still seem not-at-all desirable. 

Like him, he supposed. 

He stared at what he’d done and curled his arms around his stomach, and they curled too far, so he had to drop them and cover his mouth to swallow the sob-whine-gag building in him, and the touch against his lips made his skin prickle, so he had to grip his hair and press in and pull to get himself together, and all he could think about was each tip of his finger pressing a hard point into his skull, bone against bone. 

Was that what Nick felt, every time he touched him? 

Hugging a sack of ribs would be bad enough. 

It made Charlie want to be sick. 

But quickly taking over from the self-pity was the fear. 

He’d basically emptied his kitchen. For nothing. Everything was out in the open, softening and heating and defrosting; being destroyed, for nothing. The thought of any of it in his stomach, laying and churning and rotting, was too much to even consider. 

And he couldn’t remember where everything went. 

He’d taken everything from everywhere. He’d kept moving them around. Everything that was now damp, and soggy, and softening, and defrosting, and rotting, and in the wrong place. How had it been organised? Where had the rest of his family, with their normal brains, had everything? He couldn’t remember. He wasn’t sure he paid enough attention to know in the first place. 

But Tori cooked. His parents cooked. His parents did the shopping. They would know. 

They would come back—any time now—and they would see, and they would know. Charlie had no way of preventing it. He had no way of covering it. He had absolutely no control over what they would think or say or do about it. 

He dragged his tightly clutched fists out to the ends of his hair, both so his hands were no longer in direct contact with his head and so the pull elicited a slight sting over his scalp. His hands shook. It bordered on too much. His pulse pounded. It was nowhere near enough. 

The thing was, his family wouldn’t care so much, if it meant something. If it could be taken as progress. If he took everything, something that was softening or defrosting or rotting and saved it; if he ate something. If it meant he’d at least get some bulk around his bones, like he’d been planning to. Like he’d convinced himself he was going to, that there was a chance that he could. 

It would be easier, he thought, to open up his skin and rearrange his flesh. It wasn’t the usual motivator, but it didn’t seem like too much of a stretch. It became all too tempting the more his hands shook and his scalp stung and his skin prickled, all of his body too sharp, too tight, too much. 

How could he put everything back right, in time? Where did everything go? How much could he get wrong without really making anyone notice? 

If he put everything back, it was further proof he’d failed without even trying. He’d made it this far—everything was set out, everything was organised, and in place, and ready. He’d done all the work to get this far. He couldn’t just put it back. He had to get rid of the evidence. He had to do it quickly. 

His skin was too tight and he wanted it off. 

Please, he thought. Please let me out. 

“Charlie?”

The front door shut over the tail-end of Nick’s call, and Charlie made a strangled noise, and leaped for the door. He threw his weight against it—all the little there was of it, and it was too much, the door banging and the footsteps in the hall coming to a stop. 

“Charlie?” Nick tried again. “You down here?”

The steps got closer, and Charlie swallowed another strangled sound, and snatched at the door handle as soon as it moved. “Don’t come in here,” he blurted. 

He was holding onto the handle with all his strength, but he was wasting it—it had gone utterly still. 

Nick’s voice was right there, now, but Charlie didn’t think that was what quietened it. “Charlie?”

Charlie held the handle tighter and stared at where the packet of bread was beginning to slip off the packets of ham and cheese. 

“What are you doing, Char?” Nick asked, and Charlie felt pressure on the handle again. Nick’s voice was right there, and it sounded like it was coming to Charlie through a dozen dams and an ocean of water. But that might’ve just been the wobble in it. “Charlie, let me in.”

“Don’t,” Charlie gasped, automatic again. His hands were already starting to sweat and slip, and it intensified the buzz along the rest of his skin. It wouldn’t ease, no matter how much he shifted and shuffled and shivered it out of him. “It’s—I’m fine. Just don’t. Leave me a while.”

The handle jiggled in his hand. He pressed himself against the door as he felt it starting to press back. 

Nick’s voice was even closer, and ragged. “No, Char. What are you doing? I’m not leaving. Can you let me in?”

Charlie shook his head—too sharp, too much—and it swam, and Nick couldn’t even see it. “Don’t,” he repeated, almost a sob. 

“Charlie,” Nick said—stronger now, even with the wobble. Always strong, and steady, and more than enough, and never too much. Charlie’s hands slackened. “Charlie, please let me—I’m coming in, okay? I need you to open the door, because I’m coming in. I really don’t want to hurt you, but I have to come in, so I need you to open the door. Please, Charlie.”

Charlie couldn’t. Couldn’t open the door. Couldn’t ignore the crack that snuck through the wobble in Nick’s voice. Couldn’t ignore Nick. Couldn’t let anyone see. Couldn’t tell Nick no. The bread slid from its perch. It toppled the carefully organised stack to its right. Charlie let go of the door and buried his hands back in his hair. Nick opened the door and came in. 

Charlie had already paced over to where the bread had fallen, had taken ham and biscuits and frozen pies with it and drawn something like a low, long whine from his throat. By the time Nick was in the room, he was backing against the island and beginning a slow slide to the floor. 

He could do nothing but watch Nick watch. He saw as Nick’s eyes widened and his mouth dropped open, as he looked over the mess Charlie had made, and the mess that Charlie himself was. As his face screwed back up into something frantic and fearful and his steps never faltered. “God, what have you done?” he asked, making it to Charlie as Charlie made it to the floor. 

“I’m sorry,” Charlie said, no more than a panicked breath. Then, understanding, “I didn’t.”

He wasn’t sure Nick heard him. “Jesus, Charlie, you can’t do that,” Nick said, and he wasn’t angry. Charlie knew he wasn’t angry, that the most Nick ever got towards being angry with him were the occasional tired or hurt twists of frustration. It wasn’t anger that made Nick’s voice wobble and crack as he crouched down in front of Charlie, because Nick wasn’t angry, he was terrified. And that was worse. “Charlie, God, let me see.”

Charlie rapidly shook his head and brandished his hands at Nick, empty and clean and unharmed, and repeated, “I didn’t, I didn’t. I’m sorry, I didn’t, I’m really sorry.”

Some of the terror slipped away in favour of softness, and then Nick was there. His hands touched Charlie’s cheeks, his fingertips trails of warmth at the edge of Charlie’s hair where moments before Charlie’s own touch had felt like ice, so coldly sharp that it caused physical pain. 

“Hey, no s-word,” Nick chided—somewhat automatically, Charlie thought—as he let out a slow breath. “It’s okay, we’re okay. I didn’t mean to panic you. I’m sorry, it’s okay.”

Charlie released his hair and leaned his face into Nick’s hands, letting his own grip at the air instead. His breath came quick and rattling, but as Nick shushed him, some of the din in his head quietened. “I didn’t,” Charlie repeated, unable, apparently, to say anything else. In a whisper, he added, “I want to.”

Nick’s face shuttered again, and though Charlie was expecting it, he hated himself for it. But Nick only took another slow breath, and briefly gripped Charlie’s cheeks harder. Charlie finally settled his hands on Nick’s biceps as his eyes watered, and Nick took the invitation and wrapped him up in a tight hold. 

“Did something happen?” Nick asked softly, voice muffled from where his mouth was pressed to Charlie’s hair and Charlie’s ear was pressed to Nick’s chest. Charlie clutched him more tightly, and felt him sigh after a moment’s silence. “You’re safe, Char. I’ve got you now.”

Charlie swallowed the sob building in him. Lingering panic still prickled all over. His body buzzed with the familiar sensation of wrongness. Part of him wanted to peel himself out of Nick’s arms and shove him away. To hide, to finish what he’d been doing, to continue tearing himself apart, piece by piece. He shoved that away instead. 

It was weak. But he didn’t have to be strong. He didn’t have to fight, because he was safe, and he could fall down, because Nick would hold him up. 

Because Nick was strong. Because he was healthy, and normal. 

“I can’t remember where they go,” Charlie said, his voice cracking this time. “I can’t put them back properly.” 

A brief pause, then an, “Oh.” Charlie felt a kiss pressed to the top of his head. “It’ll be okay.”

Suddenly, Charlie was glad it was Nick. It didn’t matter that an hour ago he’d turned tail to avoid seeing Nick, or that thirty minutes ago he would have done anything to prevent Nick from seeing him. It only mattered that it wasn’t worse. Charlie wasn’t sure what his mother would have said or done, if she’d been the one to find him in this state, and he honestly didn’t want to ponder on it—tried not to, lest it sent him into a new panic.

But he knew exactly what it was like to do that to Tori. 

His annoying big sister, the only other person in the world who was never truly angry with him, the only person in the world whose love Charlie didn’t doubt for a second. Tori, who Charlie could never be angry with and who he loved unconditionally, who took all of Charlie’s pain atop her own and never once blamed him for it. 

Tori, who Charlie had seen hurting just as much, and who he only ever managed to hurt more. 

God, where was Oliver? How careless could Charlie still be? 

“I need to fix it,” Charlie said, urgent now. “I don’t want them to—they can’t—“

Charlie broke off, and Nick held him tighter, and Charlie was so glad it was Nick. 

“You don’t want them to know,” Nick finished for him. He sighed again, a breath in Charlie’s ear with their temples touching. Nick pressed against him a little harder, then rolled his head gently, so they were forehead to forehead. “I think it would be better if they did, but I won’t be the one to tell them. You need to call Geoff, though.”

Charlie’s stomach churned again, both with how frustrated and nervous the mere thought made him and with how unfailingly understanding and kind Nick was. So strong and still so soft. 

What attracted him to Charlie, who was neither? 

“I will,” he managed, in response to Nick’s gentle order. He couldn’t look at him, this close, but he could feel it when Nick nodded in response, and that was almost better. 

“Alright,” Nick said, giving Charlie one more gentle squeeze before slowly shifting away and getting to his feet. “We need to get everything back in the freezer, first, then. Actually, we can do dinner as we go. What’s on your plan tonight, again?”

Now Charlie stared up at him. The buzz along his skin bordered on debilitating as it spread into his ears. Nick was understanding. Nick knew him better than anyone. He thought Nick understood. “Nick,” he choked. “It’s not—I can’t.”

Nick was already shaking his head, looking down at Charlie, still without a hint of anger or pity. “I’m not making you do anything, Char, promise. But it’s been helping, sticking to the plan. Right? So I’m just going to do that, okay?”

Nick was right. Charlie knew that. The plan had been helping. Even if he couldn’t always manage to go through with it, sticking to it held some element of comfort—some small sense of strength. It wouldn’t help to disrupt it. 

But there was a pressure that came with it that Charlie couldn’t always handle. Now felt like one of those times. 

“I can’t sit and do that,” he whispered. “That’ll upset them even more, and—”

“You don’t have to,” Nick promised. “We’re going to hang out in your room. And I’ll bring it up, and you can have some if you want to, or don’t. And you can tell me what‘s up, or not. Is that…does that sound manageable?”

Charlie caught on. He could see it, now, lingering on the outskirts of Nick’s puffed chest and soft smiles. His hands fidgeted at his sides, curling and fluttering and tapping, and his wide eyes remained worried where they gazed down at Charlie. Nick couldn’t fix this. They’d both always known that. Charlie had always known that this frustrated Nick more than him. Nick could only do—well, what he could. 

Even if that was just sticking to the plan. 

Charlie nodded, and the ringing in his ears receded as relief rounded Nick’s shoulders. 

“Okay,” Nick said, with a bit more surety. “Then this stuff really needs to go back in the freezer, and you need to get chatting to Geoff.”

It could have felt pushy, and like too much of an order, but all Charlie could notice was how Nick didn’t touch any of his carefully arranged food until he’d picked himself up and left the room. It was a more generous compromise than he deserved. 

Especially given he didn’t actually chat to Geoff. He pulled out his phone and planned to, but the more he thought about hitting the call button, the more his hands shook. He ended up tapping the message icon instead, which was a compromise he hoped Nick would be okay with. 

Hi, Geoff. I wanted to know if I could maybe make an earlier appointment than planned? 

This was better—kinder—than simply ringing his therapist out of the blue, anyway. The man had his own life, and while he told Charlie he could call him at any time if it was ever necessary, Charlie knew no one could be available twenty-four-seven. Surely, Nick would see the logic in this as well. There was a chance Geoff wouldn’t even reply to him this evening. 

His phone buzzed in less than a minute, but that slim chance had existed. 

Of course, Charlie. When were you thinking? I’m free for you to give me a call now if you feel it’s in any way urgent. 

Charlie blew out a breath, shaking his head slightly. But that alone made him feel a little better. 

No, that’s okay. Nick’s here now. It’s not that urgent. 

Tomorrow, then? I have a slot right after you’d be finished up with school. 

That works. Thank you.

Call me before then if you need to! 

A small smile tweaked at Charlie’s lips as another breath escaped him, just as Nick nudged through the door with two plates in hand. He paused at the sight of Charlie with his phone still in hand, a tentative smile taking over his own face. “Did you talk to him?”

Charlie hesitated, and eventually just turned his phone around to show Nick. “I can’t ring, but, I’m going to see him tomorrow?”

Nick quickly read over the messages—softening, likely at the sight of his own name—and nodded his acceptance, though a small furrow formed in his brow. “Will you be okay until then? Is it…I mean, you don’t have to go to school tomorrow.”

“I should.” Charlie shook his head. “I will. It’s not that bad, honestly.”

Nick tucked one of the plates on a free spot on Charlie’s desk, where it became mostly unnoticeable. He settled onto Charlie’s bed with the other on his lap and a concerned, disbelieving look. 

Charlie knew it would slip right off his face if he just sat down, picked one thing off the plate, and took a single bite. 

He couldn’t, though. 

So he sat down and curled his arms around one of Nick’s, and tucked his face against Nick’s shoulder. “I’ll have to tell my parents something, since I’ve moved my appointment.”

Nick relaxed minutely. “Yeah. Well, probably better. I wasn’t as lost as I could’ve been, but I’d say I still made a right mess of your kitchen.”

“Thank you,” Charlie whispered back. “You didn’t have to do that.”

He was jostled by Nick’s shrug. “Well, even I don’t want to eat defrosted chicken, so yes, I definitely did.”

Charlie picked his head up enough to see Nick smiling at him, and he couldn’t resist covering those lips with his own. 

Something in him unraveled when Nick kissed him back. Something about the way Nick instinctively cupped Charlie’s cheek and parted his lips, and how he managed to set his plate safely aside without disconnecting from Charlie or opening his eyes. Something in the soft, hitched noise he made when Charlie wove a hand into his hair, and how he kissed Charlie a little more thoroughly in response. 

Charlie responded in kind and then some. Even with his skin buzzing and his ears ringing and his stomach still tumbling, he kissed Nick hungrily. It was the only way he could ever describe it. This was sustenance his brain never fought against. 

Then he was thinking sack of ribs and bone against bone and turn-on, and kissing Nick harder, and Nick was pulling back. 

“Charlie, take a breath,” Nick said softly, cupping Charlie’s face in his hands. 

Charlie’s heart fell. “You don’t want to kiss me.” 

Stupid, stupid idiot. Can you honestly blame him?

Nick smiled, and it wasn’t sad or pitying. It was bright and bashful and unbearably fond, that heartstopping half-tilt which was accompanied by a faint blush. “I always want to kiss you,” he said simply; not a reassurance, but an admittance. He brushed back Charlie’s curls and proved his point by kissing Charlie’s forehead, his cheeks, and his lips, brief but lingering, and Charlie’s heart floated back into place. “But right now I want you to be okay more.” 

His smile softened, and his thumb stroked over Charlie’s cheek, and Charlie hiccuped and hid himself in Nick’s chest. Nick adjusted instantly, wrapping his arms around Charlie and petting through his hair. 

“I’d prefer to kiss you when you actually want to kiss me,” Nick added, tentatively. “Like, for real, I mean. And not for…not to…”

“I always want to kiss you,” Charlie answered, fast and forceful, because he suddenly realised. And he could not let Nick think anything like that. “I love kissing you, because I love you.”

Nick’s hand rubbed broadly down his back, big and warm and strong, and Charlie was caught between melting under the touch and curling away. “Yeah. Me too.” He kissed the top of Charlie’s head, and wrapped his arms around him fully again. “So much.”

Charlie’s shoulders hunched slightly. “You’re right, though. I shouldn’t be kissing you to make myself feel better. Even though it always does make me feel better.”

“Magic kisses,” Nick readily agreed, his chin ruffling Charlie’s hair as he nodded. 

“And I really shouldn’t be when you don’t want to.”

Nick’s arms tightened, and Charlie squeezed his eyes shut. “I really always want to, Char. Like, probably more than is actually healthy. I just…don’t like not being sure it’s for the right reasons. The thought of doing anything like that to you…I just—well, sometimes a hug just feels better. Just like this.”

“But it can’t feel good. Hugging me,” Charlie whispered. 

“What?” Nick sounded baffled, but Charlie couldn’t explain. He didn’t think he would have to, and wasn’t prepared. Eventually, Nick accepted the silence and answered for himself. “Charlie, hugging you is essentially my favourite thing to do. I would never stop hugging you for the rest of my life if that was in any way practical. It’s the best feeling in the world.”

“But…me,” Charlie tried. “Don’t I feel…isn’t it like…” He groaned in frustation, and tried starting from scratch. “Your hugs are the best thing ever because they’re big, and warm, and strong, but I’m just…I’m not any of those things. I don’t even know how this is comfortable, for you.”

There was a drawn-out pause, in which Charlie waited for Nick to say, Actually, you have a point, and let him go, but then Nick let out a punched-sounding breath. “Charlie. It’s not because—you think—your body—you think it’s uncomfortable to hug you?”

Charlie’s shoulders hunched a little higher, and Nick gave another of those breaths, and squeezed Charlie even tighter. 

“I can promise you you’re completely wrong. That’s not how it works at all. You’re incredibly cud—cuddleable?—huggable. And we fit perfectly. Do you not think so?”

Of course, Charlie thought, instantly. Dreamily, all the time.

But what he said was, “It makes you sad, though.”

“What?”

Charlie wasn’t going to pretend Nick’s question was because he hadn’t heard the whispered concern. The utter bafflement had returned to Nick’s tone. Charlie was sure it was about to get worse, once he tried to explain. “You always hold me tighter midway through.”

“You think I don’t enjoy hugging you, because every time I do, I always hug you tighter?”

“Don’t make fun of me,” Charlie said. 

“I’m not!” Nick squeezed him again, and he truly didn’t sound like he was joking. “I promise I’m not. I’m trying to understand, but I think it’s you who needs to do that. I mean, just listen to what you’re saying, Char.”

Charlie insisted, “You know what I’m trying to say, though.”

“I think I do. I think your brain is doing that thing where it thinks itself in circles and tells you things that are wrong. Am I right?”

Charlie’s shoulders slumped, and Nick rubbed his back again. 

“I thought so,” Nick murmured. “I know I can’t stop it, but I promise I won’t stop reminding you what’s true.”

“And what’s that?” Charlie prodded, sounding as small as he felt. 

Nick was more prepared. “I love you, and I always want to kiss you because I fancy you more than I’ve ever fancied anybody, and hugging you is so inarguably my favourite thing that I would gladly never stop. And that all I want is for you to be healthy and safe and as happy as you can be, because I care about you and you deserve it, more than anything.”

Charlie’s eyes watered again, and automatically, in some awe, he answered, “So do you. I love you too.”

“Well, that works out then, ‘cause I’m never safer or happier than when I’m with you.”

If possible, Charlie’s awe expanded. “You feel safe with me?” 

“Yeah,” Nick said, as if it was obvious. “Ever since I’ve known you. How do you think I realised I loved you so much? Everything’s so much easier with you than it is with anyone else.”

The tears in Charlie’s eyes spilled over. “Oh.”

Nick hummed, and pressed another kiss to the top of Charlie’s head, and gave Charlie another squeeze. Charlie tried to reconcile this information with what his brain had been telling him an hour prior. He knew that he was safe with Nick—no one, not even Tori, was as comfortable and easy for Charlie to simply be with as Nick. Nick had been there to take care of Charlie ever since they met; and Charlie knew he hadn’t made it easy. It would’ve been impossible for Charlie not to feel safe with him. To feel that Nick was steady and supportive and strong enough to make Charlie safe. 

And Charlie knew that he would do absolutely anything for Nick. Regardless of his own state, he would try to take care of Nick in whatever way possible, any time it was needed. And he knew that he had been a comfort for Nick, more than once, for numerous different reasons. But it was also impossible to think Nick needed him as much as he needed Nick. That, with all his flaws and faults, he could incite those same feelings in response. 

That he wasn’t just dragging Nick, who was too nice for his own good, along on his miserable ride. 

“So you’re not—you don’t…hold back because it makes you sad or freaks you out or—or grosses you out and makes you feel like—like you’ll break me, or something—”

“Char,” Nick interrupted, sounding distraught. “Do I make you feel like that? Because that’s not what I think at all—you’re the strongest person I know, like, that’s why I admire you so much, and I really never thought I was treating you like—”

Charlie finally mustered the will to pull away and look up at Nick. He put his hand on Nick‘s chest, and felt grateful that Nick kept him in his hold. “You don’t. You’re right. It’s not…I guess, this isn’t really about you? But it made me think…I don’t know.”

Nick shook his head. “You don’t have to explain.” I’m used to it, Charlie expected him to add. But—of course—he didn’t. “Of course, I’d like you to, if you want, but I know it usually isn’t something you can really express, and that’s okay. You don’t owe me anything, and especially not reassurance, or anything like that. I just want to know how I can help. If there’s any way I can, that is. And I hope it isn’t—I hope I haven’t done something to trigger it. I honestly…I can’t tell you how sorry I am if I did.”

“No, you didn’t, I promise.” Charlie curled his hand in Nick’s shirt and looked down again. “Honestly, it wasn’t something I was even aware upset me until today—” Charlie’s mouth clicked shut. 

But Nick’s brow had already furrowed into his concerned, listening face, and he was giving an encouraging nod and gently prodding, “What happened today?”

Charlie’s hand curled tighter. “Uhm.”

“Hey.” Nick sat up straighter, jostling Charlie where he was still perched in his lap. He kept one hand on the small of Charlie’s back and raised the other to cup Charlie’s cheek. “What happened? Did someone say something?”

“I…yeah. Well, not really? I…” Charlie blew out a breath. “I sort of, just, overhead Ben?”

Nick’s gaze darkened instantly. Charlie felt him tense, saw his jaw twitch, but Nick’s touch on him remained soft and careful. “What did he say?” 

Charlie’s cheeks burned. “I really don’t want to repeat it,” he mumbled. 

“I’m going to kill him.” 

“Then you’ll be in prison, and what will I do?” Charlie pointed out, feeling a little lighter in the face of Nick’s darkness—retaining their constant balance. 

“You don’t think I’d get away with it?” Nick demanded. 

Charlie released his shirt and reached up to squish his cheeks. “I think you’re much better than that to begin with.”

“And with much better kisses,” Nick said, through squished lips. 

Charlie leaned in to kiss them and agreed, “So much better.”

“Magical?”

“Maybe.”

Nick made an outraged noise and dragged Charlie closer. There was a grin fighting its way onto his face. “That’s better,” he said softly. “Do you feel a little less stressed now?”

Charlie tucked his temple against Nick’s and catalogued himself. The distress was far from gone, but his skin didn’t feel so tight, his muscles weren’t so tense, and his stomach felt still. “Yeah,” he decided. “But, not enough that I can…”

“Yeah,” Nick said, kissing his cheek. “Okay. Is there anything else I can do?”

Charlie breathed, and said, “Hold me tighter?”

[capseycartwright]

kisses for a cover

“Oh, fuck.”

Buck looked at him, eyebrow raised. “Suddenly remembered you left the stove on?” he asked in a drawl, beer bottle held halfway to his lips. Going out had been Buck’s idea – unsurprisingly. He’d suggested they needed a night out to let loose and unwind, and Christopher was at a sleepover, anyway – “It’s between that, and sad takeout on your couch, Eds,” Buck had said, rolling his eyes when Eddie had voted in favour of sad takeout on the couch, and a crappy horror film.

It had been a good idea, really. They’d gone to a Japanese restaurant Buck had been dying to try, and they’d eaten way too much, and then stumbled to their favourite bar, settling in a corner booth and drinking and talking. Being friends with Buck had always been easy – easier than any other relationship in Eddie’s life had ever been. In their few hours at the bar, they’d cycled through just about every topic – work, Christopher, politics, and whether or not sharks would be as deadly if they could survive on land – and they still weren’t done. Eddie was never bored, not with Buck.

He’d even convinced Buck to dance, a little, his best friend gangly, and uncoordinated, flailing around the dancefloor like a drunk giraffe as Eddie tried to guide him into a few coherent steps, Buck’s hips refusing to move in time to any sort of rhythm.

Going out had been a good idea –

Until now.

“Ana Flores,” Eddie hissed, leaning close to Buck. He hadn’t seen Ana since he’d broken up with her, and she’d left him with a horrendous mess to deal with – more literal, than figurative, Buck barely holding back a sigh when he arrived to help with clean-up.

“Your ex?”

“What other Ana Flores do we know!” Eddie thumped Buck in the chest lightly.

“I mean, I know your relationship didn’t end on great terms – but it wasn’t that bad, was it?” Buck winced, clearly thinking of the way his own relationship with Taylor Kelly had crashed and burned, in the end. Turns out if you built a home on unstable foundations, it was always going to come crashing down – Buck had said that.

Eddie wasn’t sure he knew enough about building a home to disagree.

“No, but if she comes over here and I have to tell her that I’m single, eight months on from our breakup, and I haven’t even tried to date another person, she might think I’m hung up on her – and then I’ll probably end up marrying her, Buck, because you know me, I felt bad enough breaking up with her the first time, and –“

Oh.

Buck was kissing him.

Eddie couldn’t help the muffled yelp he made against Buck’s mouth, his best friend gently cupping the back of Eddie’s neck and keeping him close, as he kissed him. Buck – God, whatever problems he had in his relationship, kissing was not one of them. Eddie swore he could feel it in his toes, as Buck licked into the seam of Eddie’s mouth, kissing him long, and slow.

He pulled back, and before Eddie could say anything, he heard a familiar voice.

“I’m glad you two worked it out,” Ana said, her words sincere – but something sad, in her eyes, as though she’d expected this, expected to stumble across Eddie one day and find him in a relationship. Eddie didn’t have the mental capacity to unpack all that, there and then.

“Thanks,” Buck said, smooth in his recovery. “Enjoy your night!” he said, bright – but clearly dismissive, Eddie too stunned to do anything except nod in agreement, stuttering over a vaguely coherent sentence of thanks and hope you’re good.

Eddie looked at Buck, as Ana left, returning to her friends. “Buck,” he tried, unsure of how to broach the conversation now.

Buck’s face was perfectly neutral, not letting anything on. “How do you feel about tequila shots, Edmundo?”

send me a touch prompt

[jotatetsuken]

cardigan

features: shota aizawa x f!reader

submission for: @fuwushiguro 's “First Kiss” Collab and one of my writeups for Junichi Suwabe-san's birthday

type of writing: oneshot

trope: meet-cute

prompts: “You kissed me.” “You kissed me back.” “And I’m not here to apologize.” - @creativepromptsforwriting @creativepromptfills

warnings: mentions of injuries, people being toxic towards the reader, angst is involved, mentions of fighting, tad bit of creepiness from mineta lol

summary: the reader has the quirk named bandages where her fingers turn into bandages that can extend to higher places and restrain enemies. however, she can use the bandages on multiple people or objects in one go, meaning once she restrains an enemy, she’s vulnerable to an attack from another enemy that she hasn’t caught yet. on her last mission, she injured herself and is in the process of recovery. however, a chance encounter with a pro hero changes it all.

song: cardigan by taylor swift

beta reading: @animated-moon (I am so so so grateful <3 :'( )

tagging: @akaashi-todorki @kiiraes @cuz-like-why-not @oyasumiares @tiddieluvr @beware-of-the-rogue @dnphs @miikoos @cirigiri @sabyss @ffsg0jo @solamoure @hyeque @ambieux @saltyvanilla @haikyutiehoe @gumiresque @kaminarili (taglist form)

number of words: 2784

a/n: happy easter everyone! <3 i was looking into the symbolism behind the song and this is what i found: "this is a song that’s about long lost love, and looking back on it and how special it made you feel, all the good things it made you feel, all the pain that it made you feel," and that's when an idea popped into my head. i'd been working on this story for months together for my oneshot compilation on quotev, but i'm glad that i got to do it now, i'm crossposting it btw. i hope y'all enjoy it :D as always, likes, comments and most importantly, reblogs are appreciated :D

shyna's seiyuu birthday celebration edition 2: junichi suwabe

It was fall, the winds were turning chilly, but bearable. It was a good time to relax, read a bit, play with your favorite pet and take a break from the life you were living as a temporarily retired Pro Hero. As you lay on the couch in your favorite sweater made by your grandmother, reaching for the cup of hot cocoa on the coffee table, you felt a sudden tug from your shoulder trap muscle and your chest aches somewhat. On your previous mission, you crashed hard on the road, causing your collarbone to snap and the right side of your chest to land on something very sharp, wounding yourself. It had been months since then, but even as you were physically recovering, you were mentally exhausted because you were receiving hate mail from your former fans, who were chastising you for not being there to help when they were in danger and discouraging you from returning because “no one would remember you anyway.”

So, how could you assist them when you were recuperating? How could your supporters, for whom you risked your life to the point where you decided to take a break to recover, turn on you? You were honestly relieved that your true identity was unknown to everyone but your coworkers. This is when one day, you decide to take a break and go to your popular local pet store. While shopping for supplies for your (favorite pet) there, you had your first encounter with a six-foot-tall man with a scruffy beard and unkempt jet black hair, dressed in black pants, a white sweatshirt, and a red scarf wrapped around him. He'd come with his cat, a Japanese bobtail, and was perplexed about how to feed her, so he was wandering aimlessly around in the pet store. You approach him with a smile, saying, “Hello, did you need assistance with anything?”

He turns his face towards you, gives you a confused glance, then replies hesitatingly with, "Uh, sure. You look familiar. Have we met? I'm bad with people, and with pets, ah well, you can see that," as his cat starts jumping around everywhere. You, with reflexes as quick as Ingenium, pick up the cat and start to pet her. This surprises him as you were someone who always had a pet by their side, thereby giving you experience with animals. "We probably have. Is it okay if we shake hands? " You respond, ever so politely, causing this man to softly nod and smile at you, responding by shaking hands with you.

"I'm Shota Aizawa," he replies with a calming yet commanding voice, causing you to widen your eyes. You are actually surprised to meet the legendary Pro Hero, Eraser Head, himself!! "Oh my goodness, are you Eraser Head?" causing him to widen his eyes in retaliation and move backward cautiously. "It's okay, it's okay," you tell him, urging him to calm down by pushing your palms forward. You also hand over the cat to him. “I'm (F/N) (L/N) and I go by (Hero Name).” You bow to him and introduce yourself, “I remember you from the Shie Hassaikai Raid. We were there to rescue…” “Eri.” Aizawa completes your sentence, softly smiling again.

He continues, "Ah, yes. I remember. Thank you so much for your cooperation during that time. Didn't you, however, gravely injure yourself while helping us? " Your shoulders slump in disappointment as you keep your shopping bag aside and show him where you've been injured. "It still hurts like hell, Aizawa-san. I took a break from being a Pro Hero because of that. I'm constantly drained and need a break. I should care if my Pro Hero popularity rankings tank as a result, but..."

"Don't bother," he replies nonchalantly. "People will like who they want to like, and dislike who they want to dislike. Being a Pro Hero is a responsibility we've undertaken to protect them, and if they can't respect you for the injuries you've sustained to protect them, then it's their loss." He may have stated these words matter-of-factly to you, but they were the very words you needed to come to terms with your injury and your need for holistic healing.

You ask now with your mind on the cat, "Aizawa-san, have you named your cat? She looks cute! " "Not really," he says, shrugging his shoulders while petting his cat. "Do you have any in mind?" You reply with, "Aiko. It means little love. She seems the epitome of that! " He then looks at his cat, who he received as a gift on his birthday, initially not wanting to deal with the responsibilities of having a pet, but now that he was going to tend to Eri, someone who not just had a deeply broken and traumatic childhood, but has also been freed from the mental shackles of Overhaul, he felt that Aiko was now a welcome change in his household. “Okay, then, Aiko it is,” he says, petting the cat, who was now growing attached to him.

“(Hero Name) -san,” he calls out to you as you were busy still buying essentials for your pet. You approach him, and he presents you with an interesting proposition. “I want you to be a professor at the UA High School.” You gasp in shock. “Me, but why?” As you both keep walking until you reach the checkout counter, and even after you've left the shop, Aizawa tells you something.

“I'm a man of few words, so when I say I want you to be a professor at UA, I very well mean it. The impact of your contribution is so great that you'd not know it until you see it. From what little I'd seen of your work there and even now, you have the quickest reflexes I've ever seen. This would prove invaluable as you teach our students here. Also, you seem to be someone who wants to save peoples' lives, even when you're not able to, for some time. So, think about it?"

The very next Monday, you would meet Principal Nezu, and soon enough, you signed up to be a teacher at UA High. On your first day, you meet Aizawa there in the staffroom for only a couple of minutes, though it does make you feel better as he recognizes you and calls out for your name.

"(Hero Name), so you're here," he smiles. "I'm glad. Would you be able to help me out with something? " You smile in return, "Sure, Aizawa-san. What's - " He cuts you off by saying, "Just Aizawa is fine, don't worry. I have to go to the hospital to look out for Eri, would you be able to..." You complete his sentence by saying, "sub in for your homeroom? Sure! I shall see you at the hospital afterward." You say with a grin on your face, as Aizawa heads out of the staffroom, nodding in gratitude.

When you enter the homeroom, you could notice a couple of eyes on you. Some were perplexed, some were ecstatic, and others, well, they looked at you as if they'd never seen a female before. You cleared your voice and enquired, "May I please know who the representatives for this class are?" while you kept your books on the teacher's desk. Upon hearing this, a short person around 4 feet tall with a purple hair mohawk made up of four grape-like clumps gets up from his seat and sprints towards you, obviously salivating, even though you quickly recognize him as not the class rep. So, using your quirk, you fire bandages from your fingertips onto him and entrap him against the wall, receiving applause from the class. "Are you the Pro Hero, (Hero Name),?" said a green-haired freckled boy who identified himself as Izuku Midoriya (Deku). You nodded in agreement, surprising everyone, including the spiky, blonde-haired guy at the front.

Then, to your left, you notice two classmates quickly approach by your side, bowing and saluting. Tenya Iida (Turbo Hero: Ingenium) and Momo Yaoyorozu (Everything Hero: Creati) present themselves to you as the representatives, and you grin and say, "Iida-kun, Yaoyorozu-chan, everyone, Aizawa is on leave today, and I'm subbing for him." So I figured it would be a good moment to ask me all sorts of questions about my experiences." This piqued everyone's interest, and Ingenium and Creati decided to keep an eye on the order of the questions. The questions ranged from "what does your quirk do?," "when did you find out that you have the quirk?," "under which agencies did you intern to gain patrolling experience?," "which Pro Heroes are your friends?" and even "how did you fit in your gear?," causing you to shoot an extra set of bandages to the already restrained boy's mouth. That's when the spiky-haired boy, introduced as Katsuki Bakugou, asked you a crucial question: “Are you inflicted with any injuries that have caused you to temporarily retire? 'Cause I'd seen this in the news and I wanted to be sure.” Everyone's mouths were wide open, and you nodded in agreement, indicating where you'd been hurt, when Midoriya questioned, “wait, (Hero Name)-san, were you on the mission to save Eri-chan?”

"Yes, I was, and that's why I decided to retire temporarily since I want to be in good shape before I start working again," you nodded. Then Creati, one of the reps, asked, "what do you think of the hate you've been receiving lately?" which caused you to sigh deeply and ask, "have you ever had a friend who you intentionally or unintentionally mistreated to the point where they feel like an old cardigan under someone's bed, despite them having done a lot for you?" Some of them nodded, while others remained silent. "This is how I'm feeling right now, dear students. As heroes, you will confront adversity; some may abandon you, while others will continue to support you. Some will even advise you to quit forever because no one will remember you anyway.”

When another student, a yellow-haired boy, raised his hand, he interrupted by remarking, “I mean, you can't be there all the time anyhow, so don't you think the fans are concerned about you in some way?” You were ready to respond when you spotted a long, white rope winding around this youngster and hauling him up, and Aizawa retorting, “I guess I'd do the same to you, Kaminari. Don't ask silly questions like that,” the class chuckles, followed by you chuckling, causing Aizawa to smile slightly. “Students, the fact that (Hero Name) has been through so much and is still here to answer your questions demonstrates her strength and willpower.  She will be your substitute homeroom teacher from now on, and she will make sure that all of you are nice to her,” and everyone agreed, shouting “aye!”

When school was out for the day, Aizawa walked with you to Principal Nezu's office, the two of you talking the whole time. "Thank you, Aizawa," you reply, causing Aizawa's eyes to narrow slightly. "For what?" "For defending me, it means a lot," you mutter, index fingers pointing at each other, gaze on the ground. Then you looked Aizawa in the eyes and stated, "This initial interaction with the students alone made me realize that whenever I feel mentally and physically drained, especially in our area of work, I should remember the students, the future generations that are learning from us." "Thank you, Aizawa," you say, hugging him and kissing his cheek. As you approach Principal Nezu's office, you're oblivious to the flush that has appeared on the scruffy-looking man's cheeks, as well as the smile that has appeared on his face after a long time.

Months passed, and you were enjoying your new life: while you were physically recovering, you officially joined the UA High School as a Psychological Studies teacher, where you taught everyone how villains think before committing a crime and how heroes solve cases to catch villains and rescue people using real-life examples. The students enjoyed having you around and found you to be easier to communicate with than Aizawa, who appears to be tough to approach. The other professors liked you as well, especially All Might, Present Mic, and Midnight because you kept Aizawa on his toes. Midnight was overjoyed to have found another female instructor to gossip with. You got to meet Eri after the UA High School Festival and learned that she'd finally started smiling, which made you so excited to meet her, so Aizawa took you to the dorm where she was staying and got to bond with her, teach her a little bit, encourage her that she's doing a great job, and play with her and Aiko, telling her that you'd be bringing your pet so that Aiko and he can get along. Eri hugged you before you departed, and the sight of that brought a few tears to Aizawa's eyes.

You and Aizawa began talking in an unspoken language of stolen glances, hands and shoulders brushing against each other, and smiling when they weren't around while getting to know the setting and the teachers. Present Mic and Midnight saw this and planned a teacher-only party to help you bond with other instructors, but that's when Midnight proposes a blindfold game in which you'd have to dance with another person while wearing blindfolds, and when the music stopped, you two would have to kiss. No sooner was the blindfold, than you found it hard to see until a certain calloused hand took yours in theirs and with your right hand in their left hand, your left hand on their right shoulder and vice-versa, and both of you danced to Cardigan by Taylor Swift. 

As the person you were dancing with led you to a waltz, you were quite surprised that they were able to do so while blindfolded. The moment the music paused, and you two brought your faces forward, with both of your lips brushing over each other, the partner cupped your cheeks, drew you closer, and enveloped your lips in theirs. While your fingers discovered their locks and fiddled with the hair while kissing, you had an epiphany: this was your first ever kiss, you never really had time to date people and when you did, they were all heartbreakers. Thus, it never got to the kissing phase, so when this happened, you were intrigued as to who it was, and then you felt the stubble brush against your face, and that's when it hit you as well. As you let go of the kiss, you heard a loud roar and opened the blindfold to find Aizawa standing there. You two smiled and blushed in front of each other before stepping away from the spotlight.

You returned home after the party and said your goodbyes to everyone except Aizawa. You weren't sure if you did it on purpose or not, but you drove back home anyhow. You had just changed into your casual clothes and your favorite cardigan and were heading to the kitchen to prepare yourself a cup of hot cocoa when you heard a tap on your door. When you finished, you set the cup on the coffee table and went to open the door, only to see Aizawa panting and standing in front of your front porch light.

"Hello, what are you doing here?" you inquire. He straightens up and answers,“You left without saying anything to me. Do you not want to discuss it?”   "I don't know what you're talking about," you responded, shrugging your shoulders. "You kissed me," he said, scowling. "You kissed me back," you retorted. "And I'm not here to apologize," he replies, taking a long breath. You're taken aback by his response. "If you're thinking about dating, Aizawa, just so you know, I'm intending to get back to my fighting," you remark with your arms folded. Aizawa immediately responds, "Please call me Shota. It's nice when you're the one who says it. And it's fine with me. We'll be pressed for time, but we'll make it work."

"I can't believe it, you're genuinely a tsundere," you exclaimed, widening your eyes, allowing you two to relax and chuckle, and with your E/C eyes resting on his crimson orbs, you two wrapped yourselves in a loving embrace and kissed each other on the lips again. At that moment, you were thankful that you got out to break up the monotony, because you wouldn't have a second opportunity at your Pro Hero career or another chance at love if you hadn't.

© Shyna 2022

the amount of love i have for shota aizawa is unreal. the lengths he'd go to protect his students, the fact that he is brazen and unabashed by nature (i'm sensing i had a type here lol), and especially the fact that he's super exhausted and super sleepy, makes me want to just lie down and relax in the midst of calming music. i'm an extrovert so i need to move around all the time, but i appreciate the presence of people like aizawa, who is basically my polar opposite personality-wise like hajime iwaizumi and jotaro kujo (i'm enfj and they're istp). so, i hope this relates to you, somehow. <3

[shera-dnd]

Good news, my dad just came back from surgery and he's doing fine. Recovery is gonna be a slow process, but the surgery seems to have gone pretty well for him and things are healing fine.

Bad news, that means that for the next 60 days it's all on me to keep this family afloat, so please I am asking for all the help I can get for what is gonna be this family's roughest couple of months.

I'd usually use my cute fursona and make a big deal about all the cool shit I can write for you guys, but right now I wanna have a more straightforward conversation.

I'll get back to making this a fun little fundraiser later, because I really don't like making things too bleak.

This blog has been my job for the past 3 years. It has paid the bills, paid for my meds, paid for my therapy, and for the past 3 years I've been a net 0 for my family. Sure I didn't bring much money to the table, but I wasn't costing them anything either.

And that was fine. My family was more than happy with that arrangement and so was I. I cannot express how grateful I am for all of you who have helped this be possible. I'm literally making my country's minimum wage by writing fanfiction on the internet, and that's a real blessing.

The thing is. My dad will spend the next 60 days recovering. He is self employed and he and my mom work together making furniture. Which means that if he can't work, she can't work, and if neither of them can work, then I am the only source of income for this household

For the next 2 months I'm gonna have to sustain four people all on my own. That means rent, bills, meds, therapy, all that stuff. We do have some money saved up, but I'm hoping we get to keep that and only use it for groceries or some emergency at the worst.

I did some math and that should add up to around a thousand dollars total (god bless dollar to reais conversion rates). But making a thousand dollars right at the end of those 2 months isn't gonna help anyone. Bills need to be paid and those have due times, and it would be very difficult for me to even access that money if my internet got cancelled by the end of those months.

So we're doing 250 dollars every two weeks. Seems pretty doable, right? Well today is the final day for the first 250 dollar goal, which will be used to pay for power, water, and internet bills this week, as well as the pain meds my dad has to take now that he's recovering.

We got 156 dollars down, which is pretty good actually, but it's not enough quite yet. I know it's a lot to ask for, but I really could use as much help as I can get right now.

I'm not expecting someone to swoop in heroically and drop 100 dollars on me right now. Honestly I don't want anyone to invest so much money on me on their own.

What I need is for a handful of people to throw some spare change my way. There are nearly three thousand people following this blog, so even if less than 1% of you guys see this message and toss me like 3 dollars at the most, it's still gonna add up FAST.

And if you can't do that then reblog this, boost it, send it to friends, give this enough reach that eventually someone will see it and will choose to help my family, even if it's with little more than pocket change.

Because when I say "any donation can make a world of difference" I MEAN IT WITH FULL HONESTY

The Emergency in the title of the "Weasel Den Emergency Fund" is not a joke, even if the cute little weasel makes it seem less urgent.

Her name is Snori btw. Blame @midnightechoes for that name.

Anyways. I think that's all I have to say in this little honest heart to heart.

I think tomorrow I'll get back to hyping up all the fics I can write and share the cute pics of Snori being adorable

Thank you all for your attention, as well as any reblogs and donations.

Hope y'all have a nice weekend

[spookiekewchie]

my sanctuary, you're holy to me

MINORS DO NOT INTERACT

Characters: Andy Barber x woc!reader

Summary: of all the the things in his life, andy barber knows that he can't lose you. you're his last bit of peace in the tumultuous hell that his life has turned into.

Word Count: 3.2k+

Warnings: infidelity (andy is still married to laurie), pushy andy, oral (f receiving), edging, forced confessions of love (the love is real but the confession is forced), overstimulation, pussy slapping, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it), squirting, there's a touch of angst, smut with feels, i can't think of anything else but if i missed something let me know

A/N:  This is for the homie @sunshinexsin's 1k milestone (congrats! you deserve it). I hope you like this filth (I mean was anyone surprised that I went the with the smutty option?). Anyways, all mistakes are mine so pardon any errors or typos I'm sure I missed a few. The divider is by @firefly-graphics

DO NOT repost or translate my work anywhere. Reblogs are always welcome, and let me know that you enjoy my fics.

The hotel room is dimly lit, your pacing steps thudding softly against the plush carpet as you wait for his arrival. You know what you have to tell him won’t be received well, but after the encounter you had with Laurie at the hospital earlier you know you can’t continue things the way they are. Andy’s married, his son is recovering after being in a coma for months, and Laurie...well you don’t like the woman but how can you blame her for confronting you when you’re sleeping with her husband while they are supposedly trying to repair the relationship.

Except Andy doesn’t want to repair it, he wants it done with. He claims he wants a divorce and the paperwork just needs to be filed. It would have been filed already but Jacob woke up and Andy didn’t want to stress him out so soon into his recovery. At least that's what Andy claimed when you brought it up the last time. It’s a fair concern, and really what right do you have to demand he go forward regardless? You can’t do that, not with Jacob slowly getting better each day. You care too much about that boy to do something as selfish as add more stress on him when all he needs is peace.

“Sweetheart?” Andy’s voice shakes you from your thoughts, and pacing. One look at him and you already know he’s heard all about Laurie screaming at you in the middle of the ICU. “Oh, sweetheart, I’m so sorry!” He rushes toward you, hands reaching out to pull you into his warm embrace. God you could stay just like this forever...if only he wasn’t still married. You inhaled his scent, determined to commit it to memory because you have to stick to your guns and end this affair before it gets any messier for either of you.

“Andy, we need to talk.” You say, and you can feel the way he tenses before pulling back to look at you with concern and apprehension. He knows what you’re about to say, he’s been anticipating it all day since Laurie called him from the hospital’s security office in hysterics after the confrontation. You can see him gearing up to talk you out of it, and before he can you let the words rush out of you. “We can’t keep doing this, I can’t keep being the other woman.”

There you said it, but why doesn’t it feel like you thought it would?

Andy shakes his head, hands falling to your hips to hold you in place as his blue gaze searches your brown eyes as if he’s trying to gauge just how serious you are. You know you don’t look as resolute as you would like, and it's because deep down you don’t want to let him go. Months of being with him and you just know you’ve done the one thing you promised yourself you wouldn’t, and fallen in love with him. But he’s not yours to love. The rational side of your mind tells you, and no matter how much you want to ignore it the guilt creeps in, and the feeling of just being a dirty little secret for him swiftly follows it.

“We can, it won’t always be like this. Sweetheart, please. I know it’s a mess right now, I know Laurie’s little scene at the hospital today caused some trouble but—”

You wrench away from him, huffing in indignation at how he downplays it. He wasn’t there, he hadn’t heard the things she had said and he hadn’t seen the looks that you’d gotten afterwards.

“It wasn’t a little scene, Andy!” You half shout, not meaning for your voice to raise. “She came to the hospital and screamed at me outside of Jacob’s room about how I was nothing more than a worthless, homewrecking, slut that was sleeping with her husband!” You can feel the anger bubbling up again at the memory, god Laurie was lucky that she’d confronted you while you were on the clock because had she tried that outside of the hospital you would have laid her out. “She caused a huge fucking scene, and my supervisor was standing right there for all of it. Andy, I’m not just in some trouble, they’re talking about doing an investigation to see if disciplinary action is necessary because fucking a patient's married father is apparently unethical!”

You don’t mean to yell, but you feel like you are as the worry and fears of losing your job, and having a black mark on your professional record creep in. You’ve worked so, so hard to get where you are, and you know you’re a damn good nurse. But that won’t matter if the hospital decides that having a nurse engaging in an illicit affair with a patient’s married father is bad for PR. You don’t even realize you’re crying from the stress of it until you feel Andy’s hands cupping your cheeks as he kisses the tears away. You shouldn’t let him, you know it, but you’re emotional and he’s whispering reassuring little promises, “I’ll take care of it.” He says softly, “it’s going to be fine, I won’t let anything happen to you sweetheart.” And you believe him, despite everything wrong with the relationship, Andy’s never broken a promise to you.

“Don’t end this, please...sweetheart, I-I’ll deal with Laurie.” He’s desperate to keep you, willing to do just about anything if it means not having to let you go. “I need you.”

“You’re married.” You insist weakly, making no effort to move away when you feel his lips ghosting over yours.

“I don’t love her, I haven’t for a long time. The marriage is dead.” He counters, fingers sliding to the zipper of your skirt to pull it down.

“In the eyes of the law that doesn’t matter.” He chuckles when you say that, the law is his wheelhouse. Medicine is yours.

Your skirt pools to the floor around your high heels.

“You’re my sanctuary, my peace, the closest I’ll ever get to heaven.” He mutters and you can feel the fluttering in your belly as he continues to work you out of your clothes. “Don’t take that away.”

“I—”

“Andy…” You cut him off, afraid that what he says next will make your resolve weaken further.

“I love you.”

You suck in a sharp breath, leaning away to search his face for any sign of deception. Andy’s said plenty of things in the heat of the moment, but he’s never said that to you before. But it’s there in the bluish-green eyes that you’ve come to adore as they meet yours with an intensity that almost knocks the breath out of you. Andy already knows you love him, you haven't said it but it shows in the way you look at him, the way you hold him, the way you kiss and touch him. And he's seen the way you interact with Jacob, it's different from the other nurses that clearly still believe he had something to do with the murder that rocked the nation. Not you though, you were kind to Jacob, your care for his son more than just professional courtesy. Seeing you care for his son has Andy thinking about a second kid, this time with you. He keeps that to himself, not wanting to push too much too fast when you're clearly still grappling with his confession.

It's an unfair tactic to keep you, it's the truth but dirty all the same, and he knows it. Despite that Andy doesn’t feel the slightest bit of guilt for the position that he’s just put you in, instead he doubles down when he feels the way you tremble when he undoes the buttons of your top one by one, the whole while keeping that same intense eye contact. This isn’t how he planned to tell you, Andy’s intention had been to take you somewhere out of state where no one would recognize you two. He wanted to treat you to dinner at some overpriced restaurant where he can show you off, then take you back to the hotel he would have brought for the weekend so he could spend the rest of the night taking you apart as many times as your body could handle. He still plans on doing that so long as he can convince you to keep the affair going until he no longer has to hide what the two of you share.

You haven’t said the words back yet, and it isn’t lost on him. It’s at the tip of your tongue though, and he can see you struggling to keep the words at bay as if you’re afraid to say them out loud.

The fact of the matter is that you are afraid. You know that if you say it out loud that you won’t be able to walk away like you know you should. Andy knows you’re fighting to hold on to the last vestiges of your control, and he can’t have that. He can’t have you thinking you can just walk away from everything that the two of you have between each other. “You don’t believe me?” He questions, gaze taking on a determined edge as he covertly backs you towards the room’s bed. “I’ll get on my knees and confess it if that’s what you need.”

Andy Barber doesn’t drop to his knees for just anyone, but for you? For you he’s shrugging off his jacket and tossing it aside before loosening his tie, and unbuttoning the cuffs of his dress shirt so he can roll the sleeves up against his strong forearms.

And then he does it, Andy drops to his knees and presses his cheek against the softness of your thighs. He relishes in your softness, you’re always so soft under his calloused hands. He adores the fullness of your curves as he grips against you like a man that’s trying not to drown and you’re his only lifeline. Your resolve is crumbling more and more, and you can feel the words trying to escape before you swallow them down again. Still you breathe his name, and a hand moves to card through the fluffy locks of dark hair atop his head. You should stop him, but you can’t bring yourself to say those words either. Not when you can feel his beard as it scratches softly against your skin, and his fingertips dig into the supple flesh of your thick cheeks as he groans hungrily at the scent of you. He noses your clothed cunt, the only barrier between you and his salivating mouth is the pathetically damp fabric of your panties. The breath you don’t even know that you’re holding is released with a needy mewl.

He smirks then, knowing he has you right where he wants you. “I love you, you’re the only woman that matters.” All it takes is a slight push and you can feel the end of the bed against the back of your thighs before you’re falling back against it. “And right here is where I need to be.” He continues, teeth and lips leaving kisses and bites against your inner thigh as he spreads your legs.

Your breathing is labored, lips feeling suddenly dry as you sit up just enough to watch him grab you by the hips and roughly pull you to the edge of the bed so he can yank your panties down until they’re dangling from one of your ankles. You gasp at the suddenness of his actions, but you can’t deny the way your core aches for him to break you down and pull those three words from your mouth. He doesn’t dive in immediately though, working you up with feather light touches, kisses and licks that leave you needy and frustrated. He’s everywhere except for where you need him most and you want to scream. Instead you beg, knowing he likes that better.

“Andy, please…”

“Please what, sweetheart?” He teases, a smirk on his lips as he peers up at you from his kneeling position between your spread thighs. You merely whine, if you say that you love him too it makes it all too real and part of you still expects that one day he’ll decide it’s less trouble to simply stay with Laurie. Andy wants to hear those words from you though, and he knows just how to get you to say whatever he wants to hear. His tongue just barely grazes your drenched folds and it has you arching up from the mattress before Andy’s strong hands are bringing your hips back down. You shudder when he does it again, a desperate sound escaping you before you’re groaning in relief when his fingers spread your folds and his tongue flattens and drags slowly against you. The tip of his tongue flicks against your clit and you reach down to run your fingers through his hair in hopes to encourage him with your soft touches and pleas for more.

Andy gives you more, and he takes his time between your thighs as he’s almost worshipful of you while his tongue seeks out every single part of you that he knows drives you crazy. He’s building you up to your climax so sweetly that it has you sighing and mewling for him before the moans you give him begin to grow louder. He knows your body so well, his tongue rolling against you before he’s suckling gently against your clit until hears that keen of pleasure on your lips. He’s not shy about the noise he makes, the smacking and slurping of his mouth against your cunt is nothing but music to his ears as it all blends with your whimpers, and moans that are all for him. You think he’s forgotten all about your attempts to end things when you feel his tongue pressing into your warm heat, and god does it feel good. So good that it has you questioning why you thought you could just walk away. No one’s ever made you feel this good, and you doubt anyone else can.

It’s when he has you right on the edge that he does what you don’t expect, and that’s stop. “Wh-what? Andy no...please don’t stop now.” You beg him, but he does nothing but wait until your body has backed off from the edge of release, and then he brings you right back to it. He does it again and again, and by the time he has you trembling and crying actual tears of frustration he plays his hand.

“I love you, sweetheart.” You feel his tongue against your clit and you sob in need as your hips jolt. “Don’t you love me?”

“Yes, fuck, I do. I love you too, Andy.” The words leave your lips like a prayer, all the hope and desperation that he’ll finally let you have your release hanging on every word as you writhe against the mattress.

You nearly jump off of the bed when you hear the wet slap of his hand against your dripping cunt, then you feel the sweet sting of the pain that makes you gasp. A hand grip tightly in his hair when he lays his cheek to your thigh, the other fists into the mattress. “I don’t believe you mean it. Not after you tried to leave me” He taunts you, and then there’s another loud wet smack of his hand against you.

“I love you, Andy!” You cry, hips arching up from the bed before he forces them down again so he can deliver another slap to your oversensitive sex. “Please-ah!” Another slap. “I-I love you, I love you so much!” He knows you do, but he doesn’t stop letting his hand come down against your cunt. Each slap draws another confession of your love to the surface until you’re incoherent and cumming with a gush of slick that coats his hand, and drips down onto the comforter that covers the mattress.

You tremble against the bed, your folds puffy and sensitive as Andy’s hand soothes over them and he coos his praises at how good you are for him. He stands upright once your breathing has calmed, and he shucks off his expensive dress shoes before stripping out of the rest of his clothes. He pulls the heels from your feet, kissing a path up from your ankle to your knee before he’s easing you higher up the bed and stripping you out of the bra that you still wore. You mumble something to him, and he leans closer as he slots himself between your still trembling thighs.

“I love you, I-I just don’t like sharing you.” You admit, tears on your cheeks before he brushes them away, and shushes you gently with kisses and promises that you’re the only woman he’s touched since all this has started. You believe him, if only because in her tirade, Laurie confirmed that he wouldn’t even kiss her anymore. Your mind begins to take that ugly path towards guilt before all your thoughts splinter and shatter into pieces when you feel Andy sinking into your quivering hole. You hiss, arms wrapping tightly around him as your nails drag against his back uncaring if you mark him up. You’re too lost in the feeling of fullness that he always gives you when he’s pushing himself deep inside you.

“Fuck, sweetheart, you’re squeezin’ so tight.” He grunts above you as he moves, his hips keeping a deep, slow, and purposeful pace with each hard thrust that he gives you. You’re so sensitive that you know you’ll cum soon, and it almost feels like too much with how he’s already worked you over. You can’t complain though, as maddening as the pleasure feels you know how much you’ll hate it if he stops. You need to feel yourself falling apart around his cock just as much as he does. “Can feel you flutterin’ around me, you close already?” He questions, and you nod as your glassy brown eyes meet the intense blue of his. One of his hands slides to your hip and the other grabs your hand to lace his fingers with yours. “Cum for me, sweetheart.”

The knot that’s been pulling tighter and tighter in you unravels in instant, the feeling tingling its way up your spine like its electric as your body tenses and goes slack. Your eyes screw shut, and you feel the gush of your juices as your orgasm splashes against his hips and drip down to soak into the covers of the bed. Andy doesn’t stop, letting you grip his hand hard enough that your nails leave little half moons indented into the back of it.

“One more, one more and keep your eyes on me, sweetheart.” He wants to see the unfiltered love behind those gorgeous brown eyes of yours that he’s come to love. He knows it won't take long either, Andy can feel how sensitive your body is, your walls grip his cock desperately, clenching and unclenching around him as your body tries to milk him dry. He’s holding back out of sheer force of will, only to push you to one more orgasm before he finally lets you rest.

You fall apart for him one last time, a silent cry on your lip as you keep your eyes on him, and in a brief moment of clarity you know that there’s no way you’d ever be able to leave this man.

[moemammon]

The demon brothers reacting to MC dropping their phone on their face while laying down:

Lucifer

Why are you laying around on your phone anyway? Why, because Lucifer was buried in paperwork and couldn't give you the time of day!

He wanted to, of course, but you knew better than to pester this workaholic while he was doing stuff.

So instead, you decided to keep him company with your presence, rather than your words. And he appreciates it. Having you around clears his head and encourages him to work faster, somehow.

Maybe it's because he wants to get back to you as quickly as he can? He's rather spend time with you, anyway.

And it seemed like you'd need it since you just destroyed your nose with your phone.

All you wanted was to scroll through the group texts to pass the time.... why did gravity betray you like this...

Lucifer hears the soft smack of your phone against your face, and the grunt of pain that follows it.

He doesn't even need to look up. He knows what happened. Maybe he's trying to spare your feelings?

You don't see it, but a smile tugs at the corners of his lips. What a sadist...

"I did tell you to sit properly while you use your D.D.D., didn't I? I hope you've learned your lesson."

You narrow your eyes at the demon, not sure whether to be embarrassed or irritated.

Lucifer finally looks up at you with that judging gaze of his. But he's not going to mock you, of course! The eldest is too mature for that.

"Maybe it's time I took a break. It seems that you need something other than your D.D.D. to keep you busy."

So all you had to do was pull a Mammon and he’d start paying attention to you, huh?

You make a mental note of that.

Mammon

You were in Mammon's room, lounging around in comfortable silence. You were laying across his sofa on your back, arms propped up to hold your phone over your face while you watched a video.

And that's when the inevitable happened. Your fingers slipped, and....

The moment your phone makes contact with your face, Mammon's practically in tears.

Seriously. He has to shove his face into his pillow so he can calm himself down. But did you HEAR the sound you just made-

He's dropped his phone on his face so many times that he's glad HE gets to laugh for once, instead of the other way around!

He feels your pain though, so once he recovers from laughing for ten years, he asks if your nose is okay

Which you reply that it is not.

May he offer you a bandaid in these trying times?

"Don't look at me like that! I already said I was sorry for laughing at ya, didn't I?? C'mon MC... Oi, don't ignore me!"

Levi

Levi's back is to you and his eyes are trained on his computer screen, watching the pixilated game characters move across the screen.

You don't mind, since you're absorbed in your own game, a new mobile mmorpg he introduced you to!

And you've taken the liberty of stealing his bathtub bed for yourself, and we're currently laying on your back, arms raised high as if that would channel power into your character's move combo.

But it seems like you got a little too excited, because your phone slipped out of your grasp, and right into your poor face.

When you yelped, Levi pauses his game and takes his headset off to see what??? you just did??

Then he sees it.

His dear Henry has lost the battle against their D.D.D... he knows you fought honorably...

No but seriously, you good?

He's probably the one who's done it the most out of all of his brothers, what with all of his hobbies involving browsing the internet.

"Uh... I don't have any ice, but you can use this soda can..? It's still cold."

Thanks Levi. That was very poggers of you.

Satan

You were laying about, scrolling the internet to figure out the meaning of a word you'd just read.

Impignorate??? What was THAT. Not even Satan had an answer, so you had to rely on google to give you a hand.

Speaking of hands, yours decided to betray you and send your phone into your face, which Satan just witnessed.

He was mostly paying attention to the book his nose was buried in, but he’d sneak glances at you from time to time.

And he just happened to get lucky enough to witness your murder

This man lets out a very audible "Pfft-"

He was trying not to laugh. He swears. It's just that the sound of the phone hitting your face was just

Chef kiss

And now he will offer you a kiss, too, to your lil red nose.

He gets up to make sure you're good, still obviously laughing about it.

"Maybe you should sit up next time you use your D.D.D., hm?"

Now where have you heard that one-

He's definitely logging that memory into his brain forever though lmao

He didn't know humans could make a sound like that

Asmo

Does this scenario even need explaining??

There was nothing unusual about you and Asmo laying around his enormous bed, scrolling through devilgram, fashion blogs, and rolling over to show each other your latest internet find.

But all that rolling around and laughing came at a price...

That price being the structural integrity of your skull, after your phone just dive bombed into it.

Asmo IMMEDIATELY sits up

If there's anyone who knows how dangerous a blow to the face can be, it's Asmo!

He's not even laughing about it. Just cupping you're cheeks and checking you over like a worried wife mom

"Are you okay?? Nothing seems to be swelling, and I don't see any bruises... How's your nose? Does it hurt?? I'll get you some ice! We don't want any marks on that adorable face of yours!"

Nurse Asmo will heal your superficial wounds

Speeds up the recovery process with a million butterfly kisses all over your face

May or may not turn into a few kisses going lower and lower, until-

Anyway, just be careful next time, okay? You nearly gave him a heart attack!

Beel

What do you do when you run out of ideas for what to make for dinner?

You look to the internet for some recipes! Preferably easy ones that can be made quickly and in huge batches, per Beel's request.

He's looking, too! There are plenty of cookbooks to flip through, so while you handle the googling, he's busy... drooling over the photos in the books.

At this rate, he might just eat the books themselves...

So you get up from your cozy lounge spot on the counter- Or, that was the plan anyway. But one thing led to another, and the only thing moving was your cell phone.

Rapidly.

Toward your face.

Beel hears the smack and then the curse you mumble under your breath, and looks over with worry.

His hunger is temporarily forgotten since he's got to make sure you're okay. Humans are fragile, after all!

Maybe not fragile enough to seriously be hurt by something like this, but he still doesn't like when you get hurt.

"Are you okay..? That sounded like it hurt."

Carefully inspecting your face. When he concludes that you seem perfectly fine, he gives your hair an affectionate ruffle.

"Why don't we look through the cookbooks together? I found a recipe that looks tasty. I want to make it with you."

The pain in your face seems to fly away in the presence of this sunshine man.... you have truly been blessed...

Belphie

Hanging out under the stars with Belphie was always so relaxing. You couldn't get enough of it!

And this time, you had the great idea of snapping a few photos of the display above your heads.

After a couple of selfies and a few shots overhead, to position your phone to take one last photo of yourself and Belphegor, when your finger slips.

Belphie has abandoned you.

He rolls away at light speed to prevent the phone from possibly hitting HIM, and lets you take the hit.

You've never felt more betrayed....

And he has the nerve to chuckle???

He grabs your phone from your face, inching close enough to look you over.

"Sorry. I didn't want to get hit. That must've hurt, huh?"

Yeah, no kidding.

Probably imitates the sound you made at random times throughout the day just to get on your nerves tbh

He's annoyingly good at it, too

Evil man

Gremlin

[shotorozu]

Hello. I got into a car accident and I was with my younger sister too. I got 2 surgeries and I don’t remember much. My younger sister got a few stitches😞 I feel horrible like an older sister.

Was wondering if I could request a head anon of where reader gets into a car accident and the characters react to it. (Tamaki, izuku, shoto and any of choice. Sad thing is my FUCKING Spanish teacher won’t respond to me and I have really bad grades on that class 😢 ( ´༎ຶㅂ༎ຶ`)

Thank you and take care also Safe driving

s/o getting into a car crash

character(s) : bakugou katsuki, amajiki tamaki, todoroki shouto (bnha)

legend : [Y/N = your name] they/them pronouns used, quirk’s not specific

headcanon type : fluff, comfort (x reader)

note(s) : 😦 omg i hope you’re doing okay, anon- your spanish teacher better respond to you or else >:T

»»————-　♡　————-««

bakugou katsuki

when he gets word that you’ve gotten into a car crash, his hands crack with mini explosions— dropping everything to literally run to wherever you’re at

“damnit, damnit, damnit! where the hell was i when that happened?!”

appears a lot pissier than usual, in reality— he’s just really worried, and he can’t slow down his heart palpitations!

“calm down bakugou!”

“calm.. CALM DOWN? RIDDLE ME THIS, ASSHOLE—”

hm okay, so lets say that you were in the passengers seat when the crash happened

katsuki will probably want to find whoever was the driver, and just absolutely go ballistic on them, but probably ends up not doing that when he thinks about what you’d feel

and lets say another driver crashed into your car— katsuki will search high and low just to find that said driver, and he’ll show them hell

and if you crashed into a poll or something, he wouldn’t get too mad— but he’ll still scold you, and lecture you about driving safety

when he finds out you need surgery, he’ll be so upset

“what do you mean SURGERY? who the hell crashed into you, and why do they have a license?! they’re a danger to society!” he sounds angry but he’s quietly yet impatiently waiting outside for the surgery to be successfully completed

cleans and takes care of your remaining injuries, doesn’t matter if there’s a tiny little scrape on your forehead, or if you’re left with a bunch of broken bones.

he’ll be nursing you, like it or not.

he doesn’t let you leave your bed during your recovery, he insists— and you have an idea of what’ll happen if you try opposing katsuki 💀

don’t ever be worried about your grades! you have a smartie as a boyfriend, so he has probably made an extra copy of notes that you’ve missed

and he’ll probably argue with a teacher if they refuse to cooperate because,, YOU ALMOST PASSED AWAY?? is that not a valid excuse?

“i get that you’re really busy, but they literally almost died— how is that not an valid excuse? Y/N’s a hard worker, and a good one! and i will not rest until you understand!”

it might seem a little over protective of him to do this, but katsuki won’t EVER let you drive a car alone for who knows how long, he’ll be there with you just to monitor your driving.

that is, until you gain his trust back— that you could drive without almost losing yourself

amajiki tamaki

for him, it feels like the world is going slower

when he gets a call that you’ve gotten into a car crash— his anxiousness shoots through the roof, and it’s causing him to assume the worst of the worst

he’ll feel so guilty though, tears welling up in his eyes as his entire body shakes just thinking about you in a hospital bed

because,, where was he when that happened? how did he only learn about this now?

eventually, mirio and nejire calm him down to the point that they could properly bring him to the hospital you’re staying at

without him shaking like an old nokia

knows not to blame anyone, regardless of who crashed the car (he’s not confrontational anyway)

yet, he can’t help but think about how things would’ve went differently if he was there

feels frustrated to the point that he starts tearing up when he finds out you needed surgery, and even when you tell him that he can’t be guilty because of you

he still is 😔

anyways, when your surgery is completed— he eventually musters the courage to just put all of his nervous feelings aside for now, and take care of you like the sweetheart he is!

knows a shit ton of food (courtesy to his quirk) so he cooks you something new everyday during recovery

during your recovery, tamaki isn’t fond of the idea of you walking around, doing things as if nothing happened. he ends up making sure you stay in bed, by staying in your room for days

it might take a while for him to be reassured that you won’t accidentally end up in a ditch again, but for now— you’re carpooling with the big three

worried about your grades because of the time you’ve missed during your recovery? no worries! tamaki made an extra copy of notes, and basically summarized it in a way you could understand!

it’s a rollercoaster 💀 but at least this made tamaki take initiative, even without being pushed to do so!

let’s just say, mirio and nejire are really proud of him :))

todoroki shouto

he’s been wondering why he hasn’t seen you in a few hours, and on top of that— he hasn’t been able to contact you

like,, at all. but, he thought you were just feeling ill— so he decided that he was going to head over to your place after his tasks were taken care of.

but that’s all forgotten, when he finally gets word that you’ve gotten in a car crash— and that’s why you weren’t there

he literally freezes in place, and his reaction was almost like he saw the endeavor-nomu fight all over again.

the idea of his love being in critical state, made the normally calm todoroki placed in distress

after being calmed down by his fellow classmates, he quickly abandons whatever he was doing, so he could rush to the hospital

currently, you were in surgery. he appeared pretty calm on the outside, but internally— he was a mess. though, he did have to keep it together for you

when shouto finally meets you out of surgery, his gaze is soft “hi love— no, don’t stand up! just stay there. do you remember what happened?”

your description of it all isn’t the best, but he couldn’t blame you at all

if another driver crashed into you, it’ll be an intimidating encounter,, he won’t be physical, but his words will be harsh— not even caring about the fact that the driver is literally quaking in their shoes

and if you were in the passengers seat, shouto will briefly look at them with pure disappointment— he can’t really help it,,

but he can’t find himself being mad if you were the driver, he’s just glad that you’re still with him as you could tell, shouto’s only soft for you

immediately goes shopping for groceries after he takes you back, and you’ve guessed it! he makes you soba, since you’re fresh out of the hospital

insists that you stay bed ridden, and you can’t seem to oppose— since he’s giving you the softest of gazes.

unintentionally isolates you during the entire recovery stage, because he’s so absorbed with taking care of you— that he didn’t even think if you wanted to see your classmates

not that you’re complaining,, you get to see shouto and only shouto for an entire week or so!

he lets your classmates and friends see you after a bit, but he insists that they don’t speak too loudly— worried that they’ll accidentally ache your head

(that’s when everyone found out about shouto’s great caretaking ability)

worried about your grades and classes? shouto will handle it. he’ll reach out to your teachers/professors, and he’ll try to make some negotiations, he makes sure to tell them that you were taking time off because of a health emergency

will he immediately let you be in a car by yourself after? hm,, maybe not— it’ll take some time for you to be able to drive alone again. if you need to go somewhere by car, he’ll accompany you :))

he will NOT let another accident happen, not on his watch! his heart wouldn’t be able to handle it

»»————-　♡　————-««

likes and reblogs are appreciated, thanks for reading!

i do not own bnha/mha and it’s characters. boku no hero academia/my hero academia belongs to horikoshi kohei, i only own the writing and i do not profit off of my hobby

do not plagiarize, reupload, translate, or use my works for audio readings without permission

[sukunasbabymama]

Dark Horse ;; pt. 2.

↳ Summary. This is just a second part of this because my lovely Gin Anon asked me for it. I hope the fluff don’t overshadow the bickering and “funny” stuff. Luv ya.

↳ Pairing. Tenjiku! Ran Haitani.

↳ Warnings. None.

Now let me tell you something.

Did Ran got the girl? He did, yeah but it wasn’t easy. He couldn’t quite pinpoint where they were at all; it wasn’t enemies, but they weren’t friends either, she didn’t hate him, but she didn’t love him either. They were just… gang members, yeah, that.

And the way they got closer was actually in an odd way. Ran was in Shibuya looking for her, as usual, and ended up being intercepted by at least 15 guys who knew who he was and wanted to beat him to pulp since he was alone. Now, he was strong and he can fight very well, but all the guys were his height, if not taller. At some point he would start losing and he knows that.

Till she comes into the scene, getting in front of Ran, so close that her back was pressed against him.

“Uh, what are you guys doing with my date?” She asks them, feigning confusion. Ran lets his head fall back to smile.

“Y-Your date? He’s a Haitani.” One of them says in a cold tone.

“And you’re weak, are we done here?” She says in the same bored tone she used the day she fought Ran.

“Careful, be—,”

“Listen, if you want to fight, say it and I might take the time to let you past recovery,” She rolls her eyes. “I’m going to remind you that I’m the only person that’s not in the fifth unit but is still allowed to infight. Also, that’s gonna be a good story to tell our leader when he comes to my house later.”

They start blabbering a bunch of apologies while going on their way, Ran chuckles, walking till he’s in front of her.

“So, you weren’t acting the day of the fight, uh? You truly sound like death itself.” She doesn’t hide the small smile that breaks on her face.

“Your welcome, Haitani.”

“It was cute, and hot as hell, watching you protect me like that, but you know that I’m a whole foot taller than you, right?” She rolls her eyes, turning around to go back to the cafe she was spending her afternoon. He grabs her arm, stopping. “atta atta girl, I was joking. I’m sorry.”

“Can you let me go?” She says, motioning to his hand. He shakes his head.

“You said I was your date, so let’s have it.”

“Haitani.”

“Have this date with me and if I make you uncomfortable I’ll leave you alone,” She looks at him deadpan. “I've been after you for five months now. Give me this chance.”

She nods and that’s all he needs.

The date went nice and he managed to make her laugh a lot, which in Ran Haitani language means they were closer already, and so he would go everyday to the cafe where she works. He would sit on a corner in where he knows she would have to take his order, but he doesn’t bother her to the point where she can’t do her job.

“What are you doing here today, Haitani?” She says in a bored tone.

“I came to see you, as usual.” He smiles, resting his chin on his hands.

“We already had a date.” She says while writing what he wants. He always lets her choose for him.

“And I want more, you know that.” He says and she hums.

After finishing writing his order she looks at him for a couple seconds. She lifts her hand and tucks a strand of hair behind his ear. He is frozen, in shock, while she doesn’t have an expression.

“Take me home after my shift.” It’s all she says before going back to work.

He’s delighted at this, so he waits. He waits patiently for half an hour till she looks at him and motions him to the door.

When outside they start walking in a comfortable silence, in all these months he understood that with her he can’t play silly games, she doesn’t give a fuck if he’s powerful or not. She can beat his ass anyway.

“Ah, this is good.” He says to himself when they walk to a park. They sit on a bench. “I’m getting closer with my girl, on this—,”

“I’m not your girl.”

“You are literally my girl.”

“I don’t even like you.”

“You love me.”

“I’m about to whoop your ass again.”

“And I’m going to enjoy it.” She sighs and he smiles. “I like you.”

“All of this because of me beating your ass? Damn, Haitani.” She laughs and he does too.

“Yes, very much,” She hums and he gets a little more serious. “I thought it was because of the shock of getting knocked the fuck out on a fight by a person that wasn’t calculated to be a fighter, but then I started coming to your territory frequently and found out about your soft side. I liked the way you treated customers and how relaxed you looked when your members were customers. I want that, but I also found out that the way to get to you is to let you set your own pace.”

She hums.

“So you figured it out.” He looks at her and she gives him a small smile. “You being the older Haitani, one of the heavenly four, one of the kings of Roppongi doesn’t mean nothing to me.”

“I know.” He nods.

“But you kept going after me,” She frowns with a confused smile.

“Cause I like you,” He whispers without shame. “And I want to be your man.”

She hums and rests her head on his shoulder, he knows she’s smiling and she knows he’s trying to contain his happiness.

“See? You’re literally my girl.” He whispers and she groans.

“Don’t be annoying.”

“Say it then.”

“I’m your girl.”

“Now it’s official so I can say it whenever I want.” She groans again.

🔖: @saturnmitsuya @melaninnntae @izvana @milliumizoomi @haitanigigi @ccxiia @keimisan @welkinmoongrab @yunho-leeknow @dai-tsukki-desu @manjiroarchiviste