#They better be fighting side by side again
I…have nothing to say for myself
Sidekick shivered in the corner of the cold cell they had been dumped in, their cuffed hands held close to their chest. They’d been grabbed by Villain’s team on the battlefield, but no one had spoken a word to them since. As soon as they’d gotten inside Villain's base, they’d been left here. Another shudder wracked through them at the thought of what Hero would do to them when they got them back. They wouldn’t have gotten captured if they hadn’t hesitated. Hero hated it when they hesitated.
They flexed their jaw as much as they could around the jagged metal bit in their mouth that kept them quiet. Hero liked them quiet. Their position was to listen and obey, not to speak.
Suddenly, the door swung open, startling them. The figure who entered held a box at their side, scanning the room before their eyes settled on Sidekick’s hunched figure. Then they approached. Sidekick, if possible, shrunk into themselves further as the person knelt beside them. They were unmasked, and their features were soft and kind when they focused on Sidekick.
“Hey there. I’m Medic,” they said. “Villain said you may have gotten injured in the fight, so I came to see if I could help you. Can you talk to me?”
Sidekick hesitated, unsure how to proceed. Technically, they could, but the mask strapped to their face prevented them. Almost unconsciously, they lifted their hands to their face, numb fingers tugging blindly at the thick leather strap.
Medic had tensed when they moved, but now their brow furrowed. “Do you want to take your mask off?”
Sidekick nodded, suddenly desperate with tears burning in their eyes. Whatever happened when Hero found them again was going to happen regardless. They couldn’t stand this anymore.
“Okay. Okay. Here, let me,” Medic said, gently pulling Sidekick’s hands away and rotating them to better reach the buckle. Sidekick brought their hands to the front of the mask, easing it off when the strap came undone. A sob shook their shoulders as the metal bit scraped the roof of their mouth as it came out, tracing blood onto their trembling lips.
Medic circled back to their front and froze. They gently lifted the mask from Sidekick’s hands, eyeing the blood that lined the area around the mouth. “What is this?” They breathed.
Sidekick sobbed, pressing a hand to their mouth.
Medic looked back at them like they’d forgotten they were still there. “I—Um. Are you hurt anywhere?”
Sidekick shook their head.
Medic took a deep breath. “Okay, um. Let me take your temperature, then I need to go talk to Villain. Okay?”
Sidekick didn’t respond, but let Medic press a hand to their forehead, hissing. “You’re burning up, kid. Are you sure you’re not hUurt anywhere?”
When they didn’t get a response, they stood to leave.
“I’ll be back in just a moment.”
Villain stared down at Sidekick’s mask, turning it over in their hands. “What the hell.”
Medic shook their head. “Yeah, that’s about right.”
“Is this a muzzle built into their mask?”
“At the very least, it’s designed to keep them quiet.”
Villain cursed, tossing the mask across the table in front of them. “And you said they have a fever?”
Medic nodded. “They didn’t have any other visible injuries, but that’s not to say they don’t have any. They seem pretty shaken up.”
“I can only imagine.” Villain stared hard at the mask, gathering their thoughts behind their steely gaze. “Have Henchman and Teammate bring them to the spare bedroom and check them for injuries. See if you can get them to tell you their name or something; I don’t want them more freaked out than they already are. I’ll be up in a minute. I need to think.”
Medic clicked their heels and left as Villain sat down, thinking back to every interaction they’d had with Sidekick. They’d never once spoken, in any of their fights. The mask covered enough of their face for them to completely fade into the background. Thinking about it now gave Villain a sinking feeling.
They had undone Sidekick’s bonds. Sidekick was still too shaking and weak to fight as they were led up flights of stairs into a comfortable but plain bedroom. They felt open and vulnerable without their mask, which was only slightly helped by the fact that none of the three people surrounding them right now was wearing one either. Fear and frustration pushed down into their chest, coiling tighter and tighter until it felt like they couldn’t breathe. Then Medic sat down on the bed next to them, placing a hand on their shoulder, and the coil sprung undone.
Without stopping to think, Sidekick sprang to their feet, shoving towards the door in a desperate attempt for freedom. They didn’t even make it a step before one of Villain’s associates grabbed their arm, tugging them back a little harsher than necessary. They cried out in pain as their scabbed-over wounds were pulled at and warmth bloomed onto their shoulder, sickeningly thick.
“Hey! Go easy on them,” Medic protested. They pulled Sidekick back onto the bed a little protectively, while the other two muttered apologies. Then Medic's hand left their shoulder like they’d been burned. “You’re bleeding.”
Sidekick risked a glance at them to see Medic staring at their red-stained hand in seeming shock. “I’m sorry,” they whispered.
Medic looked even more surprised at that. “Why are you sorry? You haven’t done anything.”
They swallowed, wincing at the movement in their torn-up mouth.
“Villain didn’t do that to you, did they?” Medic asked, looking towards the other two for confirmation. They shook their heads. Medic frowned. “Okay. Can I look at it, Sidekick? I just want to make sure it’s not infected. It could be causing your fever.”
Sidekick whined slightly, hugging their arms over their stomach. Their burning eyes stared resolutely at their lap.
There was a beat of silence.
“Sidekick. Can you look at me, please?”
They sniffled pathetically and looked up at Medic.
Medic offered a small smile. “I’m not going to do anything you’re uncomfortable with, okay? I just want to make sure your wound doesn’t get any worse. Is it okay if I look at it?”
Sidekick’s hands twisted in their lap, and they looked unconsciously towards the two people towering over them.
Medic followed their gaze. “Do you want them to leave?”
They gave a small, jerky nod.
“Okay, they can go. Teammate, Henchman, could you please wait outside?”
“Medic…” One of them started reluctantly, but Medic shook their head.
“We’ll be fine. Go on.” After they left, Medic opened their kit of medical supplies. “I’m going to need you to take your shirt off.”
Sidekick complied with shaking hands. They heard Medic suppress a shaky breath, not just at the wide, weeping gashes across their shoulders, but at the multiple scars layering the skin beneath them. Wrapping around to the front of their torso and circling their neck. Sidekick hunched their shoulders, wishing they could curl up and hide.
“Sidekick… where did your mask come from?” Medic asked softly as they cleaned the open wounds with gentle hands.
Sidekick bunched their hands up in their lap, trying to tune out Hero’s voice in their head.
You wouldn’t last a day with Villain’s kind.
“Um, ah! Agh. H-Hero.”
And you certainly wouldn’t last what I’d do to you when I got you back.
Medic hummed softly, pulling out crisp white bandages. “And did Hero give you anything else?”
Sidekick couldn’t quite figure out what that was supposed to mean. “Um, lessons?”
“What kind of lessons?” A new voice spoke, steady and calm and dangerous. Sidekick didn’t have to look to know that Villain was there now, but they did anyway, tears rolling onto their cheeks as they saw their enemy leaning casually against the doorframe, watching them with that unnerving gaze. Villain kicked off of the wall, walking closer to Sidekick and leaning in between them and Medic. “Well, Sidekick? What kind of lessons end in scars?”
Hero/Villain drabble taglist: @castielamigos-whump-side-blog @twistedcaretaker @lonesome--hunter @poppys-writing @endless-whump @multifandoms-multishipper @shadowylemon @utopian819 @whumpkitty @journey-the-panda @freefallingup13 @shameful-indulgence @1becky1 @temporary-whump-sideblog @chartreusephoenix @thelazywitchphotographer @onestopheroxvillain @smolxhero @mylifeisonthebookshelf @broadwaybabe18 @grizzlie70 @sunflower1000 @digitalart-dwa @tobeornottobeateacher @wolfeyedwitch @canigetanamenforbritney @ladygwennn @onlywhump @suspicious-whumping-egg @classicplesiosaur @lemongrass404 @defective-angel-13 @alainayumira also @trans-writes asked to be tagged :)
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It's the end of the college year and you and Bucky are celebrating by finally going to one of those parties people are always raving about.
Bucky is your best friend and has been ever since you bumped into him on your first day and knocked his books out of his hands. You both instantly clicked and he knows everything about you and you him.
"You almost ready to go Buck?" He's in your dorm room while you both get ready and have some pre-drinks.
"Yeah, just getting my shoes on" he stands up as you come out of your bedroom.
"Wow you look amazing Y/N, you're gonna be fighting them off you" he winks playfully at you as you laugh and roll your eyes.
"Right let's get outta here"
The party is hopping and you're a few drinks deep now letting loose and enjoying yourself. As you're talking to a group of your friends you spot Bucky eyeing you up from the other side of the room. If you didn't know any better you'd even say eye fucking you.
He's drunk, very drunk, and he's making his way towards you with a cocky smirk on his face.
"Can we go somewhere to talk ba-I mean Y/N" he's slurring his words.
"Yeah sure Buck, what's up?" You follow him to a quiet corner.
"Babe" he puts his hand on the small of your back leaning in so his lips are nearly grazing your ear. "I think I love you and I'm pretty sure I have done do for quite a while now" you fee his bottom lip touch the shell of your ear and it sends a shiver through your body.
Did Bucky just tell you he loves you? Is this really happening? You've also secretly in love with Bucky for about a year now but didn't want to ruin your friendship. Now that he's drunk he's less shy and more touchy feely apparently because his hand has just come down to cup your asscheek.
"Are you going to answer me baby?"
"You're drunk Bucky, come back to me in the morning and tell me again"
You feel his hand move to rest high up between your thighs. You almost gasp when he squeezes. His lips coming back down to graze your ear.
"I'm not to drunk to know what I'm doing and I know what I want and I want you doll" he looks at you with lust filled eyes. Pupils blown out from the alcohol.
"What if I told you I want you too Bucky, what would you do about that?" you smirk at him knowing exactly what you're doing. What you didn't expect though was for him to let out a low animalistic growl, grab your wrist and pull you out of the party back to your dorm room.
He barely has you in the door and hes pinning you against the wall his lips attacking yours in a needy kiss, tongues dancing and teeth clashing as it deepens.
"My god it took everything in me earlier not to throw you on the bed and fuck you then and there when you came out wearing that dress. I want to do so many things to you, I want to make you feel so good Y/N"
"Then do them Bucky".
Nothing else is said between you for the next while as Bucky does what he said he wanted to do and you're lying on your bed hands gripping the sheets, your hair stuck to your forehead moaning Buckys name as he fucks into you hitting your sweet spot as his thumb works your clit making you cum multiple times.
A few more thrusts and Bucky is cumming letting out a low moan and Y/N as he rides out his orgasm.
You both clean up and Bucky pulls you closer to him and you rest your head on his chest as sleep takes over both of your bodies.
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let me take care of you.
Druig x Reader
a/n: I’ve had so much Druig brainrot since watching Eternals, so please forgive it’s not my usual anime content. Enjoy!
You stood beside Druig, as you always did. A step in front of him, and only those who’d ever care to watch you carefully would notice the gesture. It was intentional, calculated. Druig recognized it, and for you it was instinctual. It was protective, even though you had little to nothing you’d need to protect your beloved Druig from.
He stepped forward, resting a gentle hand on your shoulder.
“You can relax, y’know.” A light chuckle making its way past his lips. You didn’t falter, your eyes didn’t meet his.
“Who says I wasn’t relaxed already?”
“Your body, darling.”
You turned to him, your eyebrow raised in a silent “excuse me?”. Druig shook his head, chuckling once more.
“No, no, not like that love. Your shoulders as as tense as they come, you’re stiff as a board and god, do you look pissed.”
You turned away, crossing your arms.
“I’m okay Druig, really.” He believed you, he always did. This behavior of yours wasn’t abnormal, quite the contrary in fact. Druig could take care of himself, you both knew that. You’d always been this way though, standing at his side, seemingly ready to pounce on whoever seemed to be any kind of threat to your love.
He knew you did it out of love, and well, fear. You’d never admit it, and he’d never make you, but you were scared. You were scared all the time, more so then the others. Eternals, despite being equivalent to gods, still carried a great deal of fear every day. It was natural, you had the weight of the world on your shoulders every single moment of every single day. Like Atlas, it weighed you down, crushed you. All of you.
Therefore, the moment you had something to love, you had some thing to lose. That, now that was the scariest thing of all. So, there you stood. Every moment you could spare, was with him, by his side. Because even if you knew that you were Eternals, and he was probably stronger then you, it still eased your soul just a bit to protect him.
His guard dog, he often said. A loyal hound. You hated the nickname, the jokes and jabs. But you’d deal with it over and over again to make sure he was safe.
You both were ripped out of your thoughts once again as Ikaris entered the room, you’d been discussing your plans to halt the emergence, something he was all but happy about. He glanced Druig’s way, making some comment under his breath neither of you could catch, but you had some ideas.
“Wanna say that again?” You hissed, stepping towards the taller Eternal.
Ikaris stared past you, and it made you seethe. “What, gonna let your mutt fight your battles?” Ikaris sneered, glaring at Druig with a challenge in his eyes.
You wanted to punch his lights out, but before you got the chance to move, you were being pulled away. You wanted to thrash about in his arms, go after Ikaris, but you knew better. You loved Druig, you wouldn’t start a fight over a petty comment if he truly didn’t want you to on his behalf.
He pulled you into his room, pulling you into his chest. “You aren’t a mutt, love.” He chuckled, breaking the silence. You breathed out a laugh, nodding. You knew.
“You don’t have to protect me from everything, y’know.”
You nodded. You knew this too.
He led you to his bed, laying down and pulling you down with him. You shifted, at first pulling his face towards your chest, but he didn’t let you. He normally did. “What,”
You didn’t have time to finish your thought before you were nestled against his chest. You breathed in his scent for a moment, eyes immediately glancing towards the door.
“Hey, none of that.” Druig murmured. “This is a safe place, relax, my dear.”
You wanted to, but you didn’t. It seemed like you never did. The thought dawned on Druig, and it saddened him. He thought back, and sure enough, he couldn’t think of many times when you ever did. You always held him, even if he held you at the same time. You always watched the room like a hawk, always stood a little in front of him. Always watched those around you a little bit too closely, and he felt his chest tighten.
He was strong, yes. But he was stubborn, and he didn’t have the best impulse control. You watched out for him, kept him safe even when he didn’t need it. Not once, he realized, did anyone do that for you. Frankly, he wasn’t sure you even thought to want it.
So, he held you close to him, running his hand along your hair, waiting as your body slowly and slowly relaxed into his arms.
“Let me have a turn on watch, okay? I’m here, I’m safe. You’re safe.” He murmured, and you wanted to believe him. But still, your eyes wandered, your head spun.
“Daring,” he started. “Rest, please. I have it from here, just, for once, let me take care of you.”
He almost sounded desperate, it wasn’t a tone you heard from the man often, but it got your attention. So, you relaxed against him. You breathed him in, and nestled your face against his chest. He held you, just held you.
for once, that was enough. You felt safe enough, and for the first time in a long time, it was you who was taken care of.
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platonic 02 - rafe cameron
rafe cameron x f!kook reader
summary: after being confronted by rose will rafe finally admit his feelings for y/n. as rafe starts to pay more attention to y/n, her feelings for rafe just grow more and more as he starts spending more alone time with her. davis shows up and causes y/n to spiral into emotions leaving her no choice but to tell her parents to cut their business deal with his family.
warnings: swearing, under age drinking, angst, jealousy, anger, fighting & toxic past relationships
word count: 2.3k
laura knocks on y/n’s door softly. “can i come in?” y/n stands up to unlock the door and open it. “hey, i saw davis,” she says with a sad face stepping inside. “yeah fucking fantastic,” y/n chuckles opening her book back up. she lays back against her head board and sighs deeply. “are you okay?” laura asks sitting down on the bottom of y/n’s bed. “never better,” y/n says sarcastically. laura frowns and grabs her sister’s book from her. “don’t act all distant with me bubba, look im sorry about spilling things about rafe to hayden, but i can not deal with heart broken y/n again,” y/n looks at her with wide eyes.
“i- i, laura i cant believe mom and dad would even let his family into our home, especially after what happened between us,” y/n looks down tears threatening to fall down her cheeks. “i’ve finally pushed him away and here is he is in my fucking backyard! can you belive that,” she throws her arms up in disgust.
laura grabs her hands and holds them tightly. “listen, i will talk to mom and dad okay,” y/n nods and blinks away the tears. “you don’t worry about davis. i won’t let him get anywhere near you,” she stands up and walks to the other side of the bed to lay next to her baby sister. she cuddles next to her and y/n finally lets out her tears.
as rafe makes his way up to his room he is stopped by his sister. “why didn’t you take olivia home?” sarah asks with a raised brow. “i don’t know where she lives,” rafe says walking past her. “liar, you could’ve gotten her address easy, she was here for hours after you left. i couldn’t get her to leave,” she groans following him up the stairs. “not my problem sarah,” he says waving his hands in the air. “you like y/n. you always find a way to take her away from me.” she says crossing her arms over her chest. why the fuck does everyone keep saying this. he sighs and looks at sarah. “i don’t. i have an obligation to be nice to her because she’s hayden’s sister. i’m not always a dick you know,” he grumples annoyed.
“no, that’s bullshit because hayden doesn’t give a fuck about me or wheez,” she shakes her head in disbelief. “what are you smoking sarah?” he taps his temple with his fingers. “hayden has done numerous things for you and wheez, stop trying to push your imagination on me, i’m fucking tired and sick of your bullshit,” he snaps leaving sarah speechless. “whatever rafe,” she hisses storming away from him. he shakes his head and shuts his door.
y/n walks along the road listening to her headphones and kicking rocks. she needed to be alone. also as far away from the monroe residents as she could be. she couldn’t take a second more in that household. not when davis pierce was there. her parents know he cheated, they know he even video taped the whole thing like a sick mother fucker.
she shivers at the sudden coldness that blew through figure 8. she stops and sits on a bench outside of someone’s house. she looks at her phone to read the time. 6:44pm, she knew she would be late for dinner and she couldn’t give any fucks to be completely honest. she didn’t want to see any of the pierce family’s faces. they were all dead to her. sick and twisted people. her parents aren’t any better, allowing them back into their home after their son caused permanent damage to her. she pulls her legs to her chest as a tear rolled down her cheek. “pull yourself together y/n,” she says pinching her thighs. “stop acting like a fucking baby,”
y/n doesn’t want to go home. she doesn’t want to face reality and see davis. she stands up and pulls herself together. she knew the perfect place to blow off some steam and relax. the island club.
she finally reaches the island club and steps inside. to her suprise she sees sarah there with topper. he didn’t look very happy. she didn’t want to be nosy, but she needed drama that wasn’t hers for awhile. she sits down at the bar and listens carefully to what they are talking about.
“look top, i understand that. i just don’t see us working out,” she says lip wobbling. she didn’t actually feel bad. she’s a good fucking actress. “there’s someone else isn’t there,” he says sitting back. “what? no topper, you don’t love me. you love the idea of me,” she goes on voice becoming more stubborn.
“hey monroe what can i get started for you,” she looks up to see jj a pogue working behind the bar. “hey jj, i’ll take a sprite,” she smiles. “no wiskey?” he winks filling her cup up. she laughs softly and thanks him for the drink. “no, ho wiskey today maybank. i have kook shit to do with my family,” she takes a sip before tuning back in to topper and sarah. “it’s over topper, except it,” she says before standing up. “put it on cameron,” she says to jj before storming out of the building.
when y/n finally gets home she sees her siblings and parents all sitting on the outside furniture. she sighs relieved that davis was gone and she could finally enjoy some peace. “hey baby, where did you go? you missed dinner,” her mother asks. “just went for a walk,” she says sitting down next to hayden. he looks at her with a frown knowing that she was gone because of the pierce’s. she lays her head on hayden shoulder relaxing. “well, we saw davis and his family,” her mom says sitting up. y/n’s heart sank and that statement. “yeah, good you for,” she says with little energy. “yes, he has changed very much. more mature,” she adds looking at y/n. “cool,” y/n says not looking at her mom, fearing if she did she might cry.
“mom, stop. you know that they’re assholes and only want to befriend you and sad to get business,” hayden says looking at their mom dead in the eyes. “you of all people should not be letting that disgusting family into our home,”
their mom looks at hayden in shock. “i understand he made a mistake, but people change,” she says furrowing her eyebrows. “people like that, don’t change,” he says getting up and walking away.
y/n watches him walk away pinching her thighs once again. “cut them off, or we will do it for you,” laura says grabbing y/n’s hand and walking them into the house. y/n follows her sister into the house and smiles at her. “thank you,” she whispers hugging her sister from behind. “of course bubs, i won’t let them belittle your feelings for money, not again,” she says holding y/n’s hands.
the next couple weeks y/n avoided her parents like the plague. they didn’t cut the pierce’s off so she took matters into her own hands by giving them the silent treatment. she walks up to tannyhill. maybe sarah won’t be busy and she can waste time to avoid family dinner once again.
before she could even knock, the door opens revealing rafe about to leave. “hey y/n, what are you doing here?” he questions sliding outside. “oh uh, i was here to see if sarah was home,” this wasn’t a complete lie. y/n actually wanted to see sarah, but seeing rafe gave her heart a kick start. she wanted to feel some kind of happiness since all she’s been feeling lately was pain from her parents and ex boyfriend.
he looks her up and down checking her out. she had on a tight pink crop top and jean shorts. her body was out of this world. he swallows hard before shaking the thought and answers her. “she’s actually gone, she’s been out all night. i don’t actually know where she is,” he says rubbing the back of his neck. y/n nods and backs up letting him step onto the patio. “so i assume you don’t know when she’ll be back,” she says looking at rafe’s green jacket. “yeah i’m sorry,” he offers her a seat on the swing telling her maybe sarah will be back in the next 45 minutes.
y/n sits on the swing and swings watching rafe answer phone call after phone call. he was serious about being an officer for his frat. rafe ends the call and turns around looking right at her.
“want to do something?” he asks sitting down next to her. “like us? you and me?” she points to both of them. “yeah silly, who else,” he chuckles flipping his phone in his hands. “sure,” she smiles looking over at him. “perfect,” he says helping her off the swing. her heart pangs in her chest staring at her hands in rafe’s. she swallows as he lets go and she follows.
y/n takes in the druthers. she has never actually been on the boat, she has seen it from afar but never stepped foot on the infamous boat. she looks around and drags her fingers against the nice furniture that accompanied the interior. "nice yeah?" rafe asks sitting down on the couch. y/n looks at him as he sits back spreading his legs wider. "this is crazy nice," she smiles avoiding eye contact with rafe. “i knew you camerons were rich, but it shocks me every time,” she laughs leaning against the railing of the patio.
the sun shines brightly on y/n's face. rafe has never noticed how pretty she looked sunkissed and smiling. now that he thought about it, she always looked lost around him. almost like she was afraid of him. he smiled to himself thinking about seeing this side of y/n made him feel things he has never felt before. he shakes the feeling and stands up walking towards her.
"why did you bring me here rafe," she says lowly not looking at him. "what do you mean?" he questions standing next to her. she turns towards him. "you brought me out to your dad's boat, is this some trick you use on all girls," she says placing a piece of her hair behind her ear.
"no, no what. i brought you out here because you've never seen the druthers and i thought- i thought that maybe we could be friends," he says looking out at the water once again.
now he was the one avoiding eye contact. y/n nods and bites her lip. she plays with her necklace. she slowly slides closer to rafe who was leaning against the railing. he looks over at her and his stomach drops. she was now touching his arm with her own.
"do you and hayden have some sort of rule against dating each other's siblings?" she asks curiously. rafe's eyes widen and he looks at her mouth agape. "what do you mean?" he looks her up and down noticing her lip between her teeth. "i don't know, i-" she gets cut off by rafe pulling her in for a abrupt but gentle kiss.
y/n gasps into his mouth giving him access to slide his tongue in her mouth. her heart rate is at least 180bmp right now. rafe grabs her hips and pushes her against the railing. y/n wraps her arms around his neck standing on her tip toes to reach his tall frame. this wasn't happening right now. she was not kissing rafe cameron on his multi-million dollar boat. they pull apart breathing heavy smiling at each other. “there was no spoken rule but i’m sure there-“ rafe gets cut off by your brothers loud voice on the other side of the boat.
"what the fuck is this cameron," she hears her brother's voice from the otherside of the boat. y/n's eyes widen and she feels her chest cave in. rafe doesn't let go of her. he leans his head against her shoulder and groans. “he’s going to murder me,” he whispers before turning around and letting her go.
hayden walks quickly towards them and punches rafe dead in the jaw. rafe stumbles back letting go of y/n causing her to gasp at her brother's actions. "you fucking scum, i told you not to mack on my sister," rafe straightens up and holds his jaw. "you broke bro code asshole," he takes another blow to rafe's face and rafe stumbles once again taking it.
“you never once fucking said that,” rafe says standing up holding his jaw. “i didnt think i had to,” hayden says completely red in the face. rafe swears under his breath before punching hayden back. “you kissed my sister, my baby sister. the one thing off limits man,” hayden says sending a punch at rafe’s face once again. rafe pushes hayden by the shoulders sending him back and stumbling on his ass.
“you don’t get to do this hayden, not now,” rafe walks towards him anger seething through him. “you don’t get to choose who i like, especially if it’s your sister. we’re both capable of making decisions,” hayden quickly stands up and punches rafe repeatively. he was pissed.
“hayden, rafe, please stop," she says in pure terror tears forming in the corner of her eyes. rafe throws a punch at hayden hitting him right in the nose. rafe was taller and a little stronger than hayden which scared y/n. she has never seen her brother or rafe use violence.
"i kissed him," she shouts over them punching each other. hayden stops and looks at her in shock. "what," he whispers. "you kissed him?" he says letting his grip go on rafe's shirt. "yes now will you two fucking stop," she quickly walks away grabbing her purse and running far from tannyhill forgetting about her car and first kiss with rafe.
tags: @lilacsandwhiskey @sksliz @bbydxll1208 @may7460 @hopebaker @taking-a-step-away-blog
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dizzy spells ~ hcs
a/n: let’s all ignore my sporadic nonexistent updates and revel that I actually got one finished! it’s a smidge angsty, but I hope you enjoy :)
∫ summary: you haven’t slept in a while and are overworked; how would they react?
∫ pairings: todoroki x gn!reader, bakugou x gn!reader, uraraka x gn!reader, midoriya x gn!reader
∫ warnings: cussing, fainting, illness, a tiny mention of death (very small though); angst to fluff
what does he do?
he had noticed that you were always working when he walked by, but he didn’t think much of it because that’s just how you normally were
and he admired that side of you a lot
but when he found you slumped in the floor of the common room, a glass of water spilled beside you, his brain went into overdrive, heart slamming in his chest
honestly, he thought the worst
once he checked and found you still breathing, though, he sagged in relief
picked you up and almost sprinted to the nurse’s office
when she told him that you would be fine and that it was just due to exhaustion, he dropped into the chair beside you, taking your hand in his
how had he not noticed you were not feeling well?
the guilt ate at him for a while, but he vowed to be more observant to your health, so he did his best to brush it off
when you finally woke up, he was gazing out the window, hand still clasped tightly around yours
his eyes snapped to yours, surprised, and relieved
“you’re finally awake.”
looking confused, you nodded
“you’ve been asleep for five hours.”
he nodded solemnly, pausing
“please tell me when you’re not feeling well. you really scared me when I found you.”
he stuck by your side like glue for the rest of the day, only leaving to grab snacks
frequently checks in on you to make sure you’re still feeling okay
the most worried he’s ever felt probably
he definitely noticed something up when he saw the almost black dark circles under your eyes at lunch that day
but when you crashed into mina because you couldn’t physically hold yourself up anymore, he decided something needed to be done
wrapped an arm around you to support you before immediately taking you to the nurse’s office
hardly said anything the entire time she was doing her examination
when she confirmed his suspicions, he just closed his eyes and lowered his head
“don’t do shit like this again.”
you were surprised
his eyes were fierce when he looked back at you
“I understand the need to push yourself, but if you’re not healthy, how are you going to fight properly?”
he paused as he looked away
“I can’t see you get hurt.”
that’s why he was so quiet
he was scared about something happening to you
vowing to pay more attention to yourself, he helped you back to the dorms
went back to classes so he could take notes for you
made you a healthy dinner, telling you to stay in bed so you could rest
hovered near you for a few days afterwards to make sure you didn’t almost pass out again
would also help you out if he ever saw you get swamped with work
he grumbled about it, but you knew better
so so worried
she recognized you were tired, and asked you about it
but when you told her you were okay, she reluctantly believed you
she realized that wasn’t the case when you and some of your friends were out shopping
you slumped against jirou when you were sitting outside of a shop, seemingly asleep
both girls panicked when they couldn’t wake you up, though
after explaining to the others what was happening, they opted to take you to the hospital, just in case
there weren’t any villains around as far as anybody could see, but one could never be too sure
she only let go to let the doctor check you, hovering nearby to keep watch
after finding out what the problem was, she sat by your bed and waited for you to wake up
the others waited for a while before deciding to go back to the dorm, saying they were going to cozy it up and get food so when you got back, you could all relax together
when you do wake up, she softly lectures you on taking care of yourself; or at least to be more aware of how you’re feeling
she hated to see you so tired, and just wants you to be healthy
“I love you, so much. I hate seeing you in pain, so please be more aware, if not for me, for yourself, so that you can be healthy.”
helps you home, being careful not to touch you completely so she didn’t set off her quirk
you look ill enough as it is
when you got back, there was food waiting, as well as your favorite movie on in the common room
everybody spent the rest of the night crowded together on the couches and floor, making sure you got your rest
she sat pressed against you, head on your shoulder and pinkies linked together as you both dozed off on the floor
you were in the middle of a fight
it was probably the worst moment to realize that you had made some poor life choices
he freaked out when he saw you collapse
he was too far away to get to you, and was involved in his own fight
thankfully todoroki also saw, and was by you in a second, finishing the fight you were in with the villain
as soon as he could, he sprinted over to you, eyes blurry with tears
if something serious had happened to you...
he doesn’t know what he would do
he crouched next to you, assessing you enough to know that you still had a pulse
other than a few minor scratches and bruises, you didn’t seem to have anything visible physically that would’ve caused you to collapse so suddenly
he made sure you got to an ambulance that had arrived on the scene
held your hand the entire time they checked you over
you had woken up from all the poking and prodding, asking what was going on
“y/n! you scared me so bad. are you okay?”
“I think so?”
when you were told that it was due to exhaustion, he looked at you with worry
he felt guilty that he hadn’t noticed anything wrong with you, but was also a little upset that you weren’t taking care of yourself
“please please please be more careful. come to me if you have too much on your plate. I’ll help you, okay?”
when you get somewhere safe and cleaned up, he cuddles up to you, insisting that you get some well deserved sleep
trusts you, but still keeps an extra eye on you during fights after this
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Ive got thoughts i need out
You're a general in a country fighting against the Antartic empire, and you're damn good at your job. Everytime you arrive at the battlefield the tide starts to turn in your favour, and while that might not mean victory it does mean more damage to the empire and less losses on your own side.
U start getting rather well known for your skills and the oppesit side notice. It starts with Emperor Technoblade taking an interest in your work, which in turn piques the interest of his co-emperor Philza.
They start appering on the battlefield when there are reports of you being there. Activley following you across big landmasses, hunting you. You take notice and dissapers from the front lines for a couple of weeks, surely they dont care enough about a low ranking general to keep the interest if you leave! You were wrong
First day you're back at the frontlines they are there within hours, and this time ur not as lucky. They strike harder and more brutal then they ever have before and you and your forces are quickly overwhelmed and captured.
Under capture the question of who the general is get asked. When no answer is given they threaten to start killing soldiers.
You're not going to let your men be killed for you so you stand up and announce you are the general.
They bring you back to the antarctic empire. You're expecting torture and pain, but instead you get gifts and charming words. And after a while, the question of marriage to the two emperors.
From and anon hoping to be 🐛 anon? if that is open?
Hell yeah, you can be 🐛 anon! Come on through with these whole ass asks.
Also, you may have just inspired a multi-chapter thing as well so...
You were an inspiration, were being the keyword, once upon a time, you were the linchpin in turning the score of the battle against the Arctic Empire, taking to the battlefield and almost always taking victory from the clutches of your enemies. You were a good general, and you cared for the people you fought alongside, wanting nothing but for them to be free of the icy kingdom and its twin emperors, knowing that even if you had to pul your troops out of the fray, the more of their soldiers you took down or demoralised meant they had less power to stop your strives for freedom.
But like all things of war, death and blood, the leaders of the empire were swift to learn of you and your abilities. The Emperor General Technoblade being the first as one of his hand-picked blood guards does not return from an encounter with your soldiers, the informants within your ranks sending whispers of your name and the victories minor and major under your name. You had the blood gods champion looking your way, watching each report for mentions and reports of your whereabouts, devouring every scrap of information he could as they came.
And eventually, his attention brought the Winged Emperor to come to watch for you as well, now having read the same papers and reports as Tecno had. You were too good an asset to pass up, a battle to convert for sure, but if they managed it, you would be invaluable to them and their expansions.
Soon the interest in your conversion begins to shift, making room from battle admiration into something else, there were reports of your kindness and mercy amongst the piling victory and after-battle reports. Each one becoming more and more persuasive in luring the twin emperors onto the battlefields in hopes of coming face to face with you, with having the chance to actually see the person that had become something of an obsession for them.
"Look at this report Phil, they turned the battle to their favour again, not a victory but we lost nearly two-thirds of our forces. An admirable amount, they are getting better..."
"We'll have them soon, I know it. Till then techno, maybe don't let them take more of our men, it would be a shame if they were lost during a battle."
So as they become more and more common on your battlefields, you become weary, there was no way they were there for you and your battalion, but every skirmish, every cavalry charge, every bombardment you engaged in they were there hunting thought the for something, someone, and thus you and some of your more secure soldiers flee the main battles opting to wait for the heads of the nation to leave the lines you fought on.
"We cannot afford to lose more men to them, pull everyone back and we'll return when they no longer hunt for whatever has their attention. God knows we have earned a short break from this war..."
But the moment you step foot under your battalions banner they are incoming, the crushing sound of the blood gods champions war steed rushing your front lines a deafening sound over the clanking of armour and clashing of swords, as is the steady beat of the winged man weaving through the sky embarrassing your archers. Only with their heads of state amongst them, the battle turns fast, leaving a mess of your numbers and ending the skirmish with you and yours in chains on your knees in the middle of the remains of the battle.
Smeared with blood and scratched from the close blows and glancing arrows that come your way, amongst your men you stayed strong. They didn't need to see how your hand shook as the almost god-kings of the empire walked the lines of your captured forces, one coated on enough blood to dye their pink hair red and the other barely even a feather out of place as they walked, you would not show them the fear they likely craved.
"We will make this easy for you all, give us your general and the rest of you will only have to face the arena or the cells, but keep them from us and I assure you, you will long for death in battle. Now, where are they?"
If they weren't such a prick, the smooth tone on the bloody emperor would be enticing, but the knowledge that even with them offering a form of mercy there would be no safety for your men. The arctic arena was full of defectors, criminals, captured soldiers and some of the arctics stronger soldiers who used it for their own training and amusement, but still, could you put them through what was at the other end of the threat, what would make someone long for a forgotten death on a battlefield?
Your answer came soon enough.
"For every moment we wait, one of your mates will be killed. Can you live knowing your unwillingness killed your men? That you did that to their families? Step up, show yourself and they at least have a chance at earning their freedom..."
Sure your legs shake as you stand, the chains behind you clink loudly as your men shout at you, willing to die in favour of handing you over, the smile you cast at them is sad and soft, turning your back to them as you look at the rulers now smiling at you.
"I'm the general you're looking for, do what you must with me but keep my men out of this. They only follow my orders."
Even the cries of your men as they are led away could not cover the clinking of your chains as your bound arms shake, being watched so openly by the Emperors of the enemy empire, now your captors. whatever they wanted with you would be worth it so long as your remaining soldiers were still alive, you were loyal to a fault and even now potentially facing your death you would give your life freely.
There is no stopping the way you flinch when cold pale hands cup your face, one pushing your helm off and leaving it to sink in the mud under you, wide blue eyes flicking across your face as they take in your features. A sigh of 'It's you...' is all you're able to hear over the rushing blood in your ears, the two rulers stand before you both their eyes flicking over your now ruined armour, eyes wide and full of something as you look up at them.
"You have me, I'm the general, now do what you will. I give my life for my men, for their freedom even in your empires chains, I would give it all for them."
The hands still cupping your face fall away and more blood smeared set grabs your chin.
"Loyal to a fault, good. But we're not going to kill you darlin' too impressive for that, no, you're coming with us. We'll keep you safe and tucked away right where you should be-"
153 notes · View notes
the world can burn as long as i have you
summary: Silco doesn’t waste his time with fate with how many times it has stabbed him in the back, but tonight just might be the night he controls it. He may not be able to choose his soulmate, but he can sure as hell reject them. If that is what he truly wants.
trigger warnings: cussing, threats of rape/non-con (not from silco), violence, kinda?? toxic relationship??, implied neglect/mental abuse, there’s no actual stripping involved with stripper!reader it’s just mentioned, mentions of wanting a baby but no actually pregnancy. arc one, episode 3 spoilers.
silco x nb/gn!stripper!reader
The game of fate has never been in his favor, dice throws poor and consistent, his deal of cards rubbish.
Before the betrayal of his brother—long before he had clung to life by brushing his fingers against that blade sinking into the muck—he had assumed the worst in your arrival. Even as a child, lumens had never piqued his interest. They didn’t do his parents any favors by bringing them together. Why shouldn’t the same be said for him and his destined partner? He saw no point in a union filled with screaming matches and contused flesh.
When Vander lost his love far before their time, their lumen crumbling to dust in his very hands, Silco thought it best to think much the same of you. There is no room for weakness in this cruel world, especially now.
He can’t afford to lose anything else.
But again, fate is not on his side. Disagrees with him completely as it brings him to you this cursed night. The very night he had brokered a deal with a high ranking enforcer; one more pawn to move in his game of chess. The man will come in handy in the years to come, he knows it.
Silco is quite proud of himself, standing outside a seedy bar on the outskirts of Zaun. Then he feels his lumen struggle against the lining of his jacket, the fabric moving in spite of the thickness to hide you away.
Deep down he knows it isn’t right, that it would be better to separate himself from this part of you, bury you in a box and forget where he left it. But he knows the pain that comes with that type of denouncement. Despite his pretending—no, choosing to believe you as someone long since dead and gone and perhaps having never existed in the first place—he can’t force himself to sunder this piece of you.
At the end of the day, you truly are all he has left in this world and all he has left to lose.
He takes a glimpse as his henchmen positioned around him, orders them ahead. When he’s out of their periphery, he shoves a hand in his pocket and drags you out with a sneer, annoyed with your sudden theatrics. You’re fairly pacific in nature, never clinging to him when you know he will rarely return it. Where he puts you, you stay and you don’t fight him. You never fight him, yet here you are shaking in his hand, color flaming in the green-tinted lights of the street. With how bright you are, he knows this is it—this is where fate will cut him again by intersecting your paths.
He won’t give you a chance to reject him. The one that will walk away from this will be him and him alone if that is what he decides. He does not let himself think of the “what if”s. There really isn’t any time to.
“Get away from me!”
Down the street, the voice echoes with the slam of a door as who he assumes to be you stumbles out into the night. Silco forces your lumen back under the fabric of his jacket, still gripping your flighty form to keep you from interfering further. You will not give him away to anyone, especially yourself.
Ahead of him, a hefty man appears right behind you, grabbing your arm and pulling you close. Silco can see the lumen on your shoulder when he does, that same twisted purple he sees when a honed needle sinks into his eye. He wants to crush it, wants to know if that agony is anything close to the one that caused the eye that unnerves so many. If he is the one to do it, to crush his own soul, would it hurt less?
“Get your hands off of me!” you screech at the pursuer, tugging relentlessly—no wonder you were floundering in his hold, you’re riled up with this scene playing out the way it is. “I’ll get you your money soon! The tips have been shitty this week, gimme a break!”
“Rent’s up and you're late,” cackles the greasy character, pulling you closer. Your face twists in revulsion, turning away as his mouth looms over you. “If you can shake your ass at the club, you can shake it for me and warm my bed while you’re at it. I’ll call it even.”
“I’ll slit my throat before I sleep with a pig.” You spit in his face and the man growls. It’s his turn to swivel his head away, pawing at his assaulted eye. “I dance on a stage, asshole—I don’t sell my wares.”
“Wrong fuckin’ choice,” he says, drawing you in. You kick and pull, yelling all sorts of obscenities as he starts to force you back into the building you had run from.
Silco takes a step forward, throwing a hand up and snapping. The two men guarding him make their way towards the scuffle just as the man raises his fist and cracks it across your face when you begin to scream for help.
You crumble into a heap, your lumen going still in his hand. He peeks under his collar to find its color fading but not your brilliance. Seems you won’t be awake when he decides what to do with you.
“Keep walkin’,” your abuser says as his men approach, wagging a finger down at you. “This ain’t none of your business. Owes me money this one does.”
Silco hums as he steps around the group, looking down at your prone form.
“Tell me about them,” he says, and the trash goes to argue before two guns are pointing at him. He slowly raises his hands, realizing he is outnumbered. Despite his large size, guns put him at Silco’s mercy now.
“I’m just the landlord. They work at the strip joint a few blocks down. Rents a room on the third floor,” he discloses.
Silco blinks. “Is that all?”
“All I care to learn with a nice ass like that,” he chuckles. “You can have ‘em when I’m done. Just want my money’s worth.”
“I see.” He raises a hand to wave his men off and the filth standing before him has the audacity to grin and reach down for you before Silco brandishes his own pistol, barrel pointing straight at his head. “You’ll die empty handed, then.”
Before he can move or even take a breath, the shot is taken and blood splatters against the door behind him and across the grimy sidewalk. His body hits the floor, thud short and heavy. Another snap and his men are searching it, procuring a key and some pocket money.
“Search his office and find anything of value. Shouldn’t let it go to waste,” he says and he knows his men question the order in silence, unused to such a task. They do it, regardless, knowing better than to argue with him. Proof of how that ends lays at their feet, motionless.
As they disappear inside, he checks his surroundings and the windows, finding it all empty of any possible witnesses.
Crouching next to you, he watches his lumen unlatch from your shoulder and float up, waiting just inches away from his neck. He knows what it, too, knows and does not try to move towards the lumen that sits unresponsive in his hand as he offers you up. Even when he lifts you closer, right in front of his spirit, it refuses to touch you. Not without his curiosity to push it—his desire to want what he has neglected so long.
This is the moment where he makes a choice. Not fate, not a roll of the dice or a deal of cards or anything else. Just him.
Sighing, he shifts you, holding your limp lumen between three leather-clad fingers as he mutters, “Go on, then.”
When the purple light grazes yours, he has to turn his head away at the light that blinks by. There is nothing to hide behind now, be it an imagined death or a shitty turn of events. It begs the question of what to do with you.
Pursing his lips, he cocks a head down at you, pocketing your lumen back in his suit jacket as his returns to hovering around your shoulders. With a gloved hand, he grabs your chin and turns your head towards him. Your choice of work has done you well in keeping you off the streets, skin clean and healthy. You definitely aren’t bad off with the clothes you’re wearing, well-made and tailored to your body.
He notices the bruise on your jaw is already rushing to the surface, creeping up the right side and into your cheek.
A stripper, he thinks, disgusted at the prospect. What disturbs him more is your face. It’s much too soft, much too kind for such grueling work. You didn’t choose this life, but you haven’t let it change you. He saw you back there, saw the fight you put up. You may earn dirty money, but you don’t dirty yourself up doing it. He respects that.
Growling under his breath, he rolls his eyes and shoves his arms under you. Blood is streaming from that “pig” landlord of yours, best to not let that stain you and your outfit.
His men return as he stands with you in his embrace, both holding up a few bags of coins. Not a bad find.
One nods to you. “We taking them?”
“We are,” he says, turning and starting back to the factory to check in on the next batch of shimmer. Hopefully the doctor has broken through on the rat trials. He needs this drug to work for his plan to succeed against Vander and make his march on Zaun.
“New test subject?” the other asks.
“Keep asking questions and you’ll be the next subject,” he warns, passing you off to the first as tucking some hair behind your ear. “They may prove useful, yet.”
Hours pass in the lab. He abides his time watching his beloved, monstrous fish and trading words with the doctor as he works.
“Will you keep them?” he asks long into a silent period.
“What?” Silco turns to watch him when he chuckles, swirling a new bottle of shimmer in his hand.
“I know what you’ve found tonight, Silco. Will you keep them for the cause? Or something far more personal?”
“Focus on your experiments,” he orders, feeling your lumen move in his vest. “It’s none of your concern what I choose to do with—”
A commotion has the duo glancing up towards the exit. Grunting, Silco goes to find the source of the noise.
Opening the door, he finds a fight in full swing, the security having a tough time with some rogue form with a pipe.
His eye widens as a purple lumen floats above the ruckus, yelling for the guards to halt right as you're slammed to the ground, pinned. You groan, whimpering as they rise off of you and step back. He spots one of the guards holding their arm, quick to kick the pipe away from your hand and say a few, choice words under their breath.
Getting to your feet, you wipe some blood off your chin, skin scraped from the fall, and catch eyes with him as your hand drops.
He watches you as you take him in, the marred skin of his face and that cursed, black eye speckled with sparks of orange.
Where he expects terror and disgust, he observes only interest and a fear that comes with strangers and lack of information.
“Where am I?” you demand, straightening your shoulders. “Whatever it is you want, I don’t have it.”
“Leave us,” he orders the security detail, waiting for their swift departure before reaching into his vest.
You tense, taking a step back and he huffs, procuring your lumen and tossing it out into the open. You fumble before realizing it isn’t an object being thrown at you, eyes growing big as you stare at the piece of yourself floating in front of you. You look to him again, expression hard and unreadable as his lumen wanders closer to you.
“What do you want?” you ask again. He raises an eyebrow and you gesture to his lumen as it transfers to your shoulder. “I know how you feel about me—you want nothing to do with me.”
“Is that so?” he asks, beginning to circle you.
“So, what? You finally find me, decide to help me out—you want a favor?” He can see the tears welling in your eyes.
“Money? If you want money, I need time—”
Your chest is fighting not to heave as you take short breaths. He knows it’s tight, knows you are fighting with all you have left to hold in whatever is attempting to escape.
“I don’t want your money either,” he says, almost soft.
“Then what?!” A sob breaks free as you screw your eyes shut, shoulders shaking and sending his lumen to find sanctuary somewhere higher in the air. “I know what you don’t want, tell me what you do so I can leave!”
“What don’t I want?” he hums. “Tell me.”
“You don’t want me!” you cry, wiping at your cheeks and refusing to look at him. “You’ve never wanted me.” You shake your head, taking a deep, quivering breath in. “You never even gave me a chance.”
“Why do I still have you, then?” He edges closer as he walks around behind you. “Why do you still brush against me in your sleep? Perk up when I so much as graze you?”
Your shoulders tighten when he hovers behind you, scarred lips next to your ear.
“Why have you kept me?”
You grit your teeth, eyes raising towards the lumens above you, distant but close enough to light the room with their luminosity.
“You’re all I have left,” you whisper, swallowing as his arms wrap around you. You’re tense as he buries his face into your neck and takes in a long inhale. There is a sweetness there, lingering under your sweat-tinged skin.
“We have that in common, then,” he murmurs, holding you tighter against him.
You sigh, shutting your book. Whatever enjoyment you seek from it has long since turned into rereading the same page over and over. Your thoughts are too loud to focus on a sentence, you choose to stare out the window instead. With all the chores done and dinner cooked, there is nothing left to do but that.
Night has fallen and rain pelts against the glass in fat globules. It’s no use trying to distract yourself with anything like this. Not with your heart in your throat as the threat looms bigger and bigger over your head. You’ve kept an eye on his lumen since he left, kissing it when the fear sets in too deeply.
Silco had told you to stay out of his business and to remain here in your shared space, safe with three henchmen always prowling the perimeter. He would return for you when the deed was done, he swore.
You couldn’t stop your nerves from taking over once he shut the door behind him, leaving you standing there gaping with a residual warmth of his lips on your jaw directly under your right cheek. He never left without planting one there—always on the same spot. You remember asking him why once, half asleep in his arms as you curled into his side in bed.
“An apology,” he had said, “for not stepping in earlier.”
It’s been a year since then. Months since you have had to work at that horrid strip club. Silco takes good care of you, provides you with everything you could ever need. In return you remain here in your new home, cleaning and reading to pass the time. You don’t go out if you can’t help it—he loathes you to go anywhere without him, but Gods do you grow bored out of your mind. And lonely. It sneaks up in the corners of your mind, clawing into you where you're most vulnerable.
What if he doesn’t come back?
What if I’m not good enough and he leaves?
You wonder if he’s still angry with you, if you had truly asked too much of him last week. A year is short to some, but the ring on your finger since the third month had made you hope, made you bold enough to ask the unthinkable from a man who takes and so rarely gives.
“I want a baby,” you tell him one night, leaning against his desk as he rifles through some papers. His lumen flashes on your shoulder at the question, pulling a wince from your closest eye as you rub the glare behind your eyelid away.
“What?” he hisses, pushing his chair back to completely shift his body towards you.
“I want a baby,” you repeat, lowering down onto the floor. His eye follows you, flickering to his hands as you grab them. You know you’re staring up at him as if he hung the moon, but in your eyes he has done so much more—deserves so much more. “You’re gone almost all day, every day and I get so lonely, Sil. I want one. I want a family you can come home to—”
“No.” He pulls his hands from you, your eyes burning alongside your face.
He doesn’t want a child with you, your thoughts spit. He barely decided your lumen was worth the trouble; you think he’d want a baby?
Feeling useless, you move to leave him to his work, but he cups your face when you turn to push off the floor. He pulls you right back to him, hands cool against your hot skin.
“I put myself in danger even by keeping you here.” He lifts your face up, wiping away the tears with his both thumbs as he leans over you. “You’re my greatest weakness, dearest. I can't have two of them.”
You are still lonely. Still left by yourself for almost the entire day for the majority of the week. He has made an effort to spend more time with you, show you more affection and prove to you he isn't going anywhere and that he does want you no matter how much your mind pushes to believe the opposite.
Years of having your spirit pushed away damages a person on a level he knows in very different ways, but he doesn’t anymore. He begs you in actions to understand that he yearns for you, that he has always yearned for someone like you.
Regardless, you dream of a child in your arms to chase away the shadows in your lonesome. Someone to raise in the chaos as Silco attempts to change your lives and everything around you. You are well aware of the group he leads and the cruel things he has done and will continue to do. That part you refuse to enable, refuse or ever be a part of, but you do not stop him and that can be even worse at the end of everything. Watching the world burn when you have two open hands and one tiny desire to douse it.
But you love him too much to lose him for the greater good. What has that ever done for you anyway? You were left to sell your backside or flaunt it where you were born, parents long since dead and no one to confide in, not even the light bonded to you by fate.
You rose from nothing and so has Silco. He has heard your plights and bolstered you, has seen your strength and admired it. So what if the world goes up in flames around you? As long as you have him, you can pretend the heat radiating doesn’t hurt, that the embers under your feet aren’t eating into you.
You’re strong, he has told you. You’ll continue to prove it to him.
You hear the door open, taking a quick breath as lightning flashes across the dark skies outside the window. Jumping to your feet, you leave the book behind, fixing any wrinkles in your clothes as you go to greet him.
“Silco,” you call stepping out into the main hall, “did everything—”
He’s standing there, wet from the rain and a bit worse for wear, but alive, and that is all that matters. Your legs nearly give out when he meets your gaze, relief you hadn’t realized you’d been begging for crowding you all at once.
There is a glint in his eye when you whisper, “Welcome home.”
Smiling, you take him into your arms and sigh, reassurance bubbling up into your eyes as you fight back tears. You don’t care how wet your clothes are as he returns the embrace.
“I’m glad you're safe,” you murmur into his shoulder, seeing a flash erupt behind you as you look up at him. Lightning, you thought, until that familiar tug breaks through you—your lumens. You don’t have to turn to know they have reunited.
“Did everything go alright?” you ask as you pull away.
“We lost the factory,” he sighs, ridding himself of a coat that isn’t his. You take it from him to hang up, draping it over your arm. “Dozens of batches of shimmer, a good deal of men.”
Frowning, you cup the side of his marred face. He leans into it, his normal eye cutting into you.
“I’ve brought you a surprise, though,” he says, tone smooth as he turns away. Your brow furrows. After losing so much, what could he possibly have to give you? You should be the one cheering him up with a gift.
“What?” you ask softly as he swivels back towards the door. It lays wide open the cold world outside as rain pounds against the street.
“Come here, little one,” he calls and you peer around him, watching the doorway. There on the left, a head peeks in; a bright head of sopping wet, blue hair as your lips part and your nails dig into the jacket on your arm.
The young girl stares between you and Silco, large eyes wide and unsure as he beckons her in with one hand. She is as soaked as Silco, face and clothes covered in soot or dirt, you can’t tell which. A little white lumen is seen on her shoulder, faded but still alert.
“Come inside, they’ll take care of you from now on,” he says gently and you watch in amazement as she takes his hand in hers, tiptoeing inside. “As will I.”
“Silco,” you whisper, astonished. “Is she…?”
“She’s lost a great deal tonight as well,” he tells you, switching his hand to the girl's back and nudging her in your direction. Her feet drag, fingers picking at one another as she tilts her head up to look at you.
At her fearful glance, you kneel down and carefully push some hair out of her face. She is shaking from the cold, bottom lip trembling, but she fights to hide it with a tense posture. You graze a bruise on her cheek; the corner of her eyes twitches.
“How does a hot bath sound?” you ask her, rubbing her arms to give her some warmth. “And some pajamas? I have dinner in the oven, too.”
Her eyes well with tears and she wraps her arms around you, nearly knocking you to the ground. Her lumen floats to the side with the sudden action, white light vivid against the wall.
“Nice,” she sniffs, rubbing her face into your shoulder. “That sounds nice.”
Your heart breaks for her as you wrap your arms around her frame, staring up at Silco as he shuts the door. He meets your gaze and you smile, petting the girl’s head. He doesn’t smile back, but you can see the growing softness in his expression.
“We’ll take good care of you,” you promise, holding her securely as she cries into your shoulder. When she calms down enough, you kiss her head and pull back to smile at her and wipe her smudged cheeks dry. “Welcome home, little one.”
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You break a finger and it doesn’t bleed, but it hurts like hell all the same. And then you splint it up and you move on because there’s nothing anyone can do about it but tell you what you already know.
That’s kind of what it’s like being from Zaun: it’s broken, it’s hard to see how, it’s impossible to empathize with the pain of it if you’re not living it.
And Vi’s relationship with pessimism is acquaintanceship at best, but even from her take on things, that’s kind of fucking bleak.
Her fingers are throbbing.
The heat of the bath water isn’t doing her any favors with the swelling, but it does help the muscles in her back relax and she’s not about to give that up.
Caitlyn’s out in the foyer talking to herself. There’s nothing distinct that Vi can make out, just the noise of a voice carried by quiet air.
It’s kind of reassuring; the sound of life.
When Vi dips her hands under the water to wash the blood off her knuckles it floats away like nothing. That’s kind of reassuring too.
What the hell has her life become?
“—found it.” The door opens gently. First Caitlyn’s back enters, then the rest of her. She’s looking down at a first aid kit in her hands, but when she kicks the door closed again, her eyes flicker to Vi’s and there’s softness in her there that’s hard to see when so much of her day is spent with her brow furrowed. “The first aid kit,” she finishes.
“Cool,” says Vi, she lifts her hand out of the tub, clean now, broken ring and pinky fingers red, blue and swollen and glistening in the dim light.
“You shouldn’t have put them in the water.”
“How else was I going to wash them?”
Cait looks at Vi and then pointedly looks to a wash cloth hanging just out of reach of the tub, on a long silver bar.
In Vi’s defense, she hadn’t properly looked at what else was on offer. In Cait’s favor, even if she had, it wouldn’t have changed anything.
Vi shrugs sheepishly anyway and grins, and that’s the end of that lack of conversation.
When it becomes clear neither of them have anything more to say on the subject, Caitlyn breaks away from the moment to find a stool. She locates it in the far corner of the room and drags it to where Vi has let her hand dangle freely over the lip of the tub.
Vi busies herself throughout this by watching the ceiling and then eventually closing her eyes. She listens to Caitlyn breath beside her, her hands deftly moving the broken fingers into a split. Securing it gently. She lingers on Vi‘s wrist for a moment that makes Vi think there’s something more to it.
“It’s reckless to fight without properly wrapping your hands,” says Caitlyn, almost absently.
“I’ve been hitting shit my entire life cupcake,” says Vi. She pauses, and then: “I know.”
“So why do it?”
“You were in a tough spot.”
“I could have handled it,” says Caitlyn.
Vi cracks an eye and looks to the side, their gazes meet, Vi smirks. “I know,” she repeats.
They sit there in the silence and the steam of the bath room. Vi’s thinking about how well you have to know someone to let them chill next to you when you’re naked and not in love or in lust, but these are strange times and she’s spent most of them in prison so what the fuck does she know anymore, really.
It’s kind of nice she cares.
Vi’s eyes burn a little when she thinks that, and she bites her tongue to keep from blinking out even a single tear.
“I’m sorry about your hand,” Caitlyn mutters, eventually.
Vi’s voice is hoarse when she responds: “Don’t be, nothing you can do.”
To Vi’s surprise, and maybe Caitlyn’s too based on her halted movement, Piltover’s finest picks up her battered hand and gently kisses the knuckles.
“To make it better,” she explains quietly.
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there is pain inside, i can see it in your eyes | t. stark
you held your belly as you walked carefully down the steps. happy held your arm as you balanced yourself down the steps.
you were now at the eight month mark, and after you had disappeared from the face of the earth, you found solace in the man who you’d grown closer to before you wanted to go AWOL.
tony sat on the couch with a quarter of the avengers on his sides. he looked defeated, especially more so when he saw the look on your face.
nat and rhodey just stared at you in shock. you had died, almost a year ago.
and yet here you were, standing before them in perfect health with a baby growing in your womb.
“what happened?” you wanted to cry when you saw his injuries, his face torn up, eye swollen and lip cut. you waddled over to his side and reached out to grasp him. you could tell in this moment all he needed was a hug. he reached out to grasp you, stuffing his face into your shoulder, your swollen belly creating a space between your bodies.
“im sorry.” was all he said.
happy must’ve waved off the rest of the avengers because you and tony were now alone.
he helped you sit on the couch, carefully you adjusted yourself and continued to hold tony’s hand.
“bucky- he killed my parents. i saw the video, baby, it was awful.” he struggled to let the words out and you could tell he wanted to sob so hard.
“sh sh.” you comforted him, kissing his forehead as he cried into your lap.
he reached up to graze your belly and spoke quietly, “if something ever happens to me, i won’t let you go without knowing i loved you.” he spoke to your belly and you smiled, no matter how much pain you were in, seeing tony so vulnerable.
when tony stopped crying, he headed up ti bed, saying something about “you have a lot of explaining to do.” and leaving you alone with nat, rhodey, peter parker and even vision, all to explain what happened.
“after shield was revealed to be hydra, i knew that i had to disappear in order to keep us,” you looked at nat who held back tears, rhodey patting her back, “me, safe. i didn’t want you guys to suffer over something that has nothing to do with you guys.” you continued, “on our last mission,” you began, placing your hands on your belly, smiling, “when i had seen rhodey flying above me and one of the soldiers fighting, i took the opportunity when i pushed the soldier off the edge of the cliff, jumping with him.” you pushed the sleeves up on your hoodie and revealed a large amount of scarring.
“i survived,” you gave a weak smile, “and realized that i couldn’t return to the modern world as myself so i went into hiding, i traveled the world until i realized my paper trail was becoming too traceable, and the only one who i knew was capable of finding me,” you looked down at the tan line of your wedding ring on your hand, “ended up finding me, i knew i couldn’t just die all over again. it was nice for a while, just having tony and not having to worry about anything else.”
you swallowed your guilt and looked at nat, “i’m sorry. for everything. for your mourning of me, for all the pain you suffered..” you couldn’t apologize anymore.
natasha stood up and walked towards you, hugging you deeply and looking down at your stomach, “if it’s a girl, you better name her natasha.” she laughed and wiped a tear from her face, embracing you once more.
“im just glad you’re alive,” rhodey spoke, “i’m just surprised at the fact that tony actually got married!” he laughed and so did peter who was actually crying as well.
he didn’t know you but you knew him, tony never stopped talking about his surrogate son, and you loved the father that tony would soon become.
after talking it out for the rest of the evening, you returned upstairs to snuggle with the only man you wanted to see right now.
“honey?” you called out once you saw the bed empty.
tony appeared out from the bathroom and he was shirtless, and although your sex drive had gone down since the first few months of pregnancy, you couldn’t lie that he was the hottest man alive in that moment.
you blushed and he smirked, “if you feel like fucking me will make me feel better, i won’t argue.” he joked and pulled you close to him, your belly bumping into his gently.
“mhm not right now..” you joked back and he scoffed, “whatever you say, toaster.”
you rolled your eyes, “that’s new. toaster?” you giggled and he smirked, “dad jokes are coming in hot!”
you kissed him, careful not to swipe his cuts.
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just baking with georgie 👆😫
first george weasley writing, i have wanted to finally write for him for agess <33
↜ back to; all blurbs | george blurbs | bethie’s masterlist
you bake cookies with george
nothing really, some play fighting involved, light-hearted cuteness.
it had took molly weasley twenty minutes worth of patience before finally gathering everyone around the living-room of the burrow, holding her sheet of paper ready to assign everyone some tasks.
the weasley siblings, you, harry, and hermione had just arrived home for the winter holidays and she had barely given time for everyone to unpack in their rooms before she was shouting everyone downstairs.
george had his arm around your shoulder while him and fred made comments within every role given, "—then ron and harry have control of doing the laundry since you can't use magic yet. and finally, y/n and george are going to bake the cookies" she placed the sheet of parchment down to clasp her hands together with the utmost joy on her face.
"you couldn't have assigned a more troublesome task to a troublesome boy" you joke, molly raising her eyebrows in agreement, "trust me, i know what he's like. but i think you will be a great influence on him, my dear".
"no mum, i think i'm going to be the great influence on y/n" winked george before walking you both to the kitchen.
you asked george to gather some bowls and utensils while you searched the many baking books for which cookie recipe to use, settling on cinnamon sugar chocolate chip cookies, keeping to the winter season.
"i'm already bored" george complains, watching as you gather ingredients and organise it on the counter in front of him. "once we start the actual baking, i feel you may change your mind, grumpy" you turn to him, using your hand to position under his chin and squeezing his cheeks playfully.
his lips pout as he leans down to peck your lips, his hand rested on your hip. you pull away when he tries to lean further into you, giggling as you turn back to the book to begin baking, "you're cheeky", "nothing cheeky about wanting to kiss you, gorgeous".
you begin by preheating the oven before pulling your boyfriend's hand so he stands beside you, "okay so we need to start by mixing the dry ingredients together..." you begin, explaining to george the measurements as you hand him a cup to measure the ingredients into the bowl.
"we don't need a cup, i can estimate how much two cups of flour is." he grabs the flour bag in his hand before tipping it over, "—no!" you begin but it's too late as the flour pours into the bowl and dust flies over the both of you, a gust of white covering the air as you cough, "i should've known" you state as he begins to laugh.
it took a while to get through mixing the ingredients while your boyfriend has the mischievous side of a deviant toddler, but soon he was able to settle down upon how overwhelmed he could see you beginning to get, having to make cookies for the entire house.
"now we divide the mixture onto the tray until we have around thirty cookies set out equally," you say as you continue to mix the ingredients, george now hugging your frame from behind with a little hum escaping his lips. you open the drawer from the side to grab two spoons, george using his thumb to quickly dip into the cookie mix before tasting it.
"you're a great baker, y/n" george compliments, "thank you, now—" you cut yourself off when george tries to dip his thumb back in, using your free hand you lightly tap his hand, "—we're making this for the entire family, you shouldn't be using your finger again", "but it always tastes better before it's cooked" he slightly complains but takes one of the spoons you have extended to him before standing beside you instead.
"well the bowl will be up for grabs once we've finished" you suggest as you both begin to share the bowl and place the cookie dough onto the tray. once you have settled the tray into the oven, george can't help but grab the bowl.
you turn back to him and as you wrap your arms around his waist, peering up, his finger collects some mixture before placing it on your nose. you shriek as you pull away, using your finger to wipe it off. laughter erupts from george's chest as he sticks his hand in before extending it to you, "c'mere for a kiss".
"get away!" you exclaim trying to grab the bowl from him while avoiding his hand but he wraps his arm around your waist, pulling your back to his chest before his hand squeezes your cheeks just as you had done to him prior, except his hand is covered in cookie dough.
you squirm while reaching for arm which traps you in place, grabbing the bowl from his hand before grabbing some for yourself and leaning back to put over his chin, you both fight over the bowl as you turn in his embrace to put it over his head as both your bodies overtake with laughter.
he stops moving once the plastic bowl is over his eyes, the remaining dough falling over his head as you both continue to giggle, "and you called me cheeky?" he states, keeping an arm over you as he pulls the bowl over to throw at the counter before leaning down to immediately capture your lips in his, "you taste of cinnamon" he hums.
or follow @magicchai-reverie and turn on notifications.
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1A + 2 1B’s during fight night | BNHA
sparky speaks: SHOUT OUT TO @myhoodacademia @semichi @reihara @denkisdurag I TOLD THEM MY IDEA AND WE KEPT COMING UP WITH LINES FUNNIER THAN THE LAST. its kinda long but worth the read i swear !
warnings: some cussing + (SAFE) links for denki’s !
fight night: a night where whoever has the best arguments and comebacks, win.
3, 2, 1. FIGHT!!!
first of all, whoever put him up here knows damn well they set him up. and he knows it too and takes the smarter route by saying NOTHING.
cuz next thing you know he’s having flashbacks and staring at his fist
he got notes on EVERYONE & THEY WEAKNESS but they need to be insulting.
mina or todoroki have to text him what to say but he never executes them right because you can tell he’s reading word from word 💀
"NO midoriya u gotta be more loud" “t-that’s um, that’s why you uh, wait todoroki you put a typo.. i don’t understand 😕”
he might have one good comeback and everybody (even the person he’s going against) cheers for him
to sum it up: he’s just yelling. he’s a walking ‘HEAPHONE WARNING’ hazard
this man does not gaf about what comes out his mouth he will say some of the wildest shit to win 😭
“STFU BEFORE THOSE TOES BECOME MY BREAKFAST, LUNCH, AND DINNER.” my nigga what ?????
imagine ishowspeed but as bakugou.
you say the wrong thing and he’s spitting (literally) in the mic who know’s what because it’s inaudible.
one day, yall were on a call and he was... being himself and his mom had ENUFF. you know what she did??
his momma beat his ass on the call.
“DENKI YOU CAN’T EVEN- huh. hold on guys. ma i told you to knocK- aye, HEY“ “I TOLD,” SMACK “YOU TO STOP,” SMACK “ALL THAT NOISE.” SMACK.
now he’s careful with what he says before they bring up that moment again. NOTHING will top that day.
“aye baku tell your mom i said hello” “stfu.” “not too loud before i get the belt myself!”
he has about 24 tabs of different sound effects and four of those are fart sounds effects and they’re all different. - example 1, 2, 3, 4, 5
“IF YOU DON’T GET YO- *dolphin noises*“
he’s just glad to be there <3
MINA GIVES WHAT ITS SUPPOSED TO GIVE.
she’s quick with the comebacks mhm mhm
she’s mad passive aggressive because she knows it’ll get you riled up.
it’s over if you mess up. if you take too long to answer? you’re done. hesitate? you’re done. it’s an automatic loss but good try 😕
if mina’s on your side, you’re literally blessed because she carries 🙏🏽
he was messing around with the settings and all of a sudden he’s inverted and doesn’t know how to fix it and it throws him off.
if he wasn’t afraid to call a cop a mutt TO HIS FACE?? you better hope he accidentally turns on an interactive filter because i know he can go in if he wanted.
he’s such an easy target, poor iida 😭
that one person you start getting on when you start running out of jokes
“Y’all look at this boy struggling. He can’t even see the screen without his glasses can he?“ “actually, i can 🤨☝🏻”
takes everything literally
SHINSOU HITOSHI / JIROU KYOUKA
- these can apply to both tbh.
SUCH AN INSTIGATOR OMGGGG
“Damnnnn, you’re just gonna let him say that about your mom? That’s crazy.“
has one-liners and only needs to say one line before he’s on to the next.
screen records ALL of the fights
purposely leaves the mic ON so people can hear them laughing
also an instigator
“AYOOOOOOOO“ “BRO WHAT“ “LMAOOO“ “HE SAID HE AINT HAVE NO DADDYYYY“
always got something going on in the back. dogs barking, loud ass TV, or him eating. you’ll hear the food wrappers as if he was doing ASMR like damn ‘eat eat eat, ugly ahh’
and ANOTHER instigator but he’s really just here to laugh
helps fill in the silence when it gets awkward or too quiet
sero’s laidback so when you’re at 100, he’s <50 but what he says makeups for it
not afraid to be straight up and blunt
okayyy she was saying what she had to say, it was cute until mid way, she cut out.
“O-o---kay can yo--- hear me---?”
yall know that fake static sound on tiktok? when she fumbles, whenever she’s in desperate NEED, she pulls out the audio and plays it and people moved on until she was caught
she ran out of ideas, clicked play but accidentally scrolled and played an ad
*static noises* “Grammarly. This sentence is grammatically correct-”
the second most embarrassing moment after bakugou 🥈
how did he even get in. who let him in.
long story short, it’s always dead SILENT after he claims he “eats 1-A up”
no baby, you aint even set the table ,, 😕
POWERFUL DUOS: mina & sero, bakugou & shinsou, denki & kirishima, and todoroki & bakugou
PINNED | BNHA MASTERLIST
tagging… @wolfkid22 @melaninatedyaoyorozu @alayahbun @myhoodacademia @katsuflossy @yourlocalmilf69 @solar3lunar @katsuphobic @mypimpademia @dilfhwa @reihara @bakugousmymassa @tanzaniiite @spike-this-ass @blackweebtrash @aelatus @kloudyisdepressed @shotobunv @belsumu-moved @suichisaharawife @r-raiinah @kisminari @dukina @renthology (bold means i cant tag you)
© 2021 lilsparkyswife. All rights reserved and please do not repost, modify or claim as yours or use for ASMR purposes. Please give credits if you use my works as inspiration. Reblogs and comments are appreciated!
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Hi there! I'm looking for fanfictions with this kind of a plot: post Armageddon, Crowley and Aziraphale aren't together but can be because Aziraphale is now free to act on his love to Crowley, but Crowley still think that Aziraphale doesn't want him, doesn't love him, that Crowley is a burden, just a demon easy to forget, that Aziraphale is this ethereal thing that Crowley can't have; more fluff than angst. Anything in mind? Is there a tag i can search on Ao3? Thanks!!
Hello! There are quite a few fics with this kind of theme, though there isn’t a specific tag for it. Tags I would suggest using are a mix of “Crowley is Bad at Feelings” and “Insecure Crowley” along with “Post-Almost-Apocalypse” and “Getting Together”. For now, here are some fics in which Crowley doesn’t think he’s good enough for Aziraphale because he’s a demon...
Unlovable by small_blue_owl (T)
It wasn’t over.
The world would live to see another day. The end was not as close as they had thought.
But it wasn’t over.
The wrath of Heaven and Hell had been evoked and now they would be punished. Maybe the end was closer than they thought.
Somebody to Love by anthonyjanthonyjr (T)
Aziraphale and Crowley are finally on their own side and are very much in love. But insecurities can get the best of both of them, causing a rift in their relationship, one that could easily be solved if they could simply get the words out, and actually share how they feel. Featuring Crowley being a dumbass and projecting onto his plants, and Aziraphale being a cinnamon roll who just wants to love his demon, but Gabriel's dick comments get to him.
I listened to Queen's Greatest Hits I while writing so yes that is where the title came from. Also, I promise the fic is better than the summary implies.
Crowley, When The Walls Fell by ineffablefool (T)
Aziraphale looked around again, a thoughtful frown pulling at his lips. “I know what human love feels like, and this is… as I said, out of focus. Sideways, somehow. It doesn’t flow the same way.”
He tilted his head, almost as if he was listening for a moment, then continued. “And now I think of it, it’s almost familiar somehow, too.”
(Crowley keeps working to hide his love from Aziraphale. Aziraphale keeps sensing it anyway. Aziraphale just doesn't know what it is, until...)
mad or well-advised by summerofspock (T)
In an unfortunate encounter with an occult object, Crowley accidentally splits himself into his angel and his demon halves.
Aziraphale has to help put him back together.
I’ll always come back by orphan_account (G)
In which Crowley finally gathers the courage to speak up about his feelings, but a stray cat becomes an obstacle (and a metaphor).
“Crowley couldn’t be jealous of a cat, right? All of the courage he gathered through the last six thousand years, which he was finally ready to put to good use, only to have his whole moment ruined by a four-legged fur ball. For all he knew, it could take him another six thousand years to even consider doing this again.”
as we fight the sight of daybreak by bokutoma (T)
aziraphale didn't love crowley like crowley loved aziraphale, but that was alright.
crowley would keep him safe anyway.
- Mod D
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I wish you would write a fic where Obi-Wan and Cody have to get married for something and never get divorced and the Jedi know but that's about it until it comes out explosively.
Aaah this is such a fun summary!! Thank you for sending it!
“He’s my husband.”
Obi-Wan keeps his gaze fixed on the plain steel faceplate of the droid and feels his heart stop in his chest. He isn’t ashamed, he would never be ashamed of Cody and his love for the other man but it is dragging something private out of the comforting muted shadows into the harsh reality of day and he swallows before he speaks again.
“Cody is my husband.”
He is sorry that he is having to do this, to expose Cody to a thousand watching eyes as he hears the lens on the news droid hovering over his shoulder click. The other man deserves better than this but there is no other way for Obi-Wan to join him.
“So I will be seeing him.” Obi-Wan steps forward, his head raised, his hands curled into fists and his knuckles are bloodless, his nails biting half-moons into his palm.
The droid retreats.
All Obi-Wan can see is Cody, his face pale beneath the bandages obscuring one side of his face and the blood that splatters his half-removed armour, mingling with the ash and dirt. He smiles, one corner of his mouth moving further than the other, and stretches one hand out — always so steady despite the storm Obi-Wan had unleashed brewing around them.
“Hello there,” Obi-Wan murmurs, twining his fingers through Cody’s. The other man laughs, soundless and slight, shaking his head as Obi-Wan draws his hand up to brush a kiss over his fingers. “How’re you feeling?”
“I’ve been worse,” Cody replies.
Obi-Wan stretches out a thought in the Force, brushing along the low burning ache in Cody’s head and the sickening twist of fear that turns into an endless dark void. He kisses Cody’s hand again, fighting to keep his hands still and his breathing steady, and sighs against his skin, tasting the grit of ash on his tongue.
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@quirkyhero , fuck you and your big beautiful brain…again…
(Reader is NOT small, they’re called big muscled and fluffy, so take note!)
Bakugo the mermaid is a sight to behold, brightly colored orange accents along his black tail before scales give way to pale skin, muscled and hardened from his many fights, and his hair that somehow stays like an explosion even underwater, is tangled up in some fishing netting! He tries and fails to escape, obviously hurting himself in the process, before being beached at low tide. His arms pinned to his sides, cuts and scrapes all along his body, he ends up collapsing from exhaustion just as the sun starts to peek over the horizon
Y/n is walking for whatever reason, haven’t slept yet or just woke up, whatever. They had been living here for a few weeks now, a nice little ocean village, with great sights. Humming softly to themselves they survey the beach near their home and notice someone laying on the beach. Not unusual, but they also notice, a trail of red leading to the ocean blue. What else were they supposed to do!? Leave the poor thing there? No! Y/n is a good person so they race down to the person who…doesn’t have legs, and sees their pretty beaten up, as well as tied up in a lot of netting. They untangle the man as much as they can before painfully dragging/carrying/mostly dragging, the merman to their house, and placing them in their tub. A pair of scissors later, and some waterproof bandages, and the merman is looking much better, if not still knocked the fuck out.
They quietly take their leave, and rest on their couch as to be able to listen to their new guest easier. Only to be awoken by LOUD screams, and crashing and smashing. The merman has awoken apparently! Rushing over to make sure the man doesn’t hurt himself, y/n throws open the door to their now destroyed bathroom.
Bakugo had crawled mostly out of the tub, his tail thrashing about knocking over towels, soaps, and toothbrushes, his hands slipping on the porcelain surfaces, and his wounds opening again. Glancing up, he hisses and shouts obscenities at the…thing… before him. Threatening them their life if they don’t release him instantly, and warning of the harms to befall them if they don’t head his warning. Humans were bad news, always, and seeing one this close was causing Bakugo to panic. Taking a deep breath to calm himself, he finally noticed…an omega…
Looking at the human standing over him, his eyes narrowed, omegas were small, thin, and weak. This one looked more like a well fed alpha. Big, muscled, but a bit fluffy, easily could hunt their own food, and provide for others. But another inhale confirmed, an omega, a scared omega. Bakugo watched closely as they said…something or other in their own language, and the squatted down to be eye level with the merman, and holding both hands up to him before scampering off
Bakugo sat confused for a few seconds before the smell of food hit him. His stomached growled angrily, as the omega rounded the corner, holding a plate of something. It was long, and floppy, and a lot of them! There was a red sauce, that smelled and tasted a little sweet, on the long floppy things as well. Y/n takes a bite of the spaghetti to show it’s harmless, before watching Bakugo wolf it down, getting tomato sauce ALL over him, down his chin to his chest, and on the bridge of his nose even!
Carefully cleaning up while he watched you, now safely back in the tub, you had to think. What were you going to do now? You have a supposedly mythical creature, who doesn’t speak ANY human language you know of atleast, in your bathtub!
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Hawkeye episode 1 & 2
My sister in all of her cruelty picked this specific day (Nov 24) to finish her applications. She made me wait a entire day to watch Hawkeye!!!!!!!!
Generally, I loved it.
Is Clint a bit sidelined IN HIS OWN SHOW?! Yes, but they’re trying to introduce a whole new character. So, as long as the next episodes are more Clint-centric, or at least have the same screen time, I’ll be ok with that. They’re gonna work together from now on, so it should get better.
I feel like the intro was more like a short way to tell Kate’s backstory using the art from the comics, not as an actual intro to the whole show. It’s not there in episode 2.
It does feel slow, but that’s kind of how I felt about FATWS. So again, I’ll wait for more episodes.
Regardless, I think the bits we got about Clint were really good:
Watching his iconic scene from Avengers 2012 from Kate’s perspective was awesome!
Turning his hearing aid off during the musical 🙌
The way he freezes when he sees Natasha on the musical 😭 😭 😭 😭
It’s been two years and he’s still mourning her
The explanation to his hearing loss was great, simple, logical, realistic. You don’t really need more than that. Everyone else had some kind of protection, minus him.
He’s not a human disaster!!! I’m so happy about that. Like he is grumpy and tired, but he’s so competent and responsible. Thank you!
I love how Kate is struggling with the TSM and he just comes and beats them.
He’s a badass!
And I love how he entered the building dressed as a firefighter.
“This is like talking to furniture” 😂 😂 😂 😂 😂 😂
I love his humor so much! (That’s Renner. His characters always have that)
“Catch and release” what a great call back to Nat’s first scene in Avengers!
At first I though the Renaissance fair was stupid, but it ended up being great!
Clint is such a good guy, he’s just not interested in the spotlight. He’s not Stark. But he’s not a jerk either, he just wants to go home.
I love when he asks Kate if everyone says “I love you” just because. He’s the kind of person who only says “I love you” when he truly, wholeheartedly means it.
He’s just doing his job. Unlike other Avengers, he does have a life outside being a superhero.
And very importantly, HE’S A DOG PERSON!!!!!
The Barton family!!!! 🥰 🥰 🥰 🥰 🥰 🥰 🥰 🥰 🥰 🥰 🥰 🥰
Clint being a dad to his actual kids AND to Kate
He’s such a sweet dad, seriously I love him so much
“Don’t lose Nate” “Where’s Nate?” 😂
“I’m not 18, I’m 22″ “yeah, same thing” 😂
Nate is learning sign language! I guess everyone else is learning too 🥺
I love they kept his special relationship with Lila 🥰 🥰 🥰
I would love to see more of the kids, especially Lila and Cooper annoying each other.
That whole conversation with Laura!!! 🥰 🥰 🥰 🥰 🥰 🥰 🥰 🥰 🥰
That is a healthy marriage
She knows everything, she even knows about the TSM and Nat’s moves
It just shows why this marriage works, with him spending so many time away. This is why they are still together. A lot of people want her to leave him, but it’s not gonna happen.
Now please can we have a scene when the two are in the same room?!?!?
I like her. I like how she is still not there. And I like that. I’d be ridiculous if she was awesome already.
Learning karate is great, but it’s not enough to actually fight people. Hopefully Clint will give her a few lessons.
Her mom does seem shady
Jacques is supposed to be Clint’s mentor in the comics, but here I’m not sure what they’re gonna do with him. He’s Swordsman, so...
There was a clip where Clint, Kate, Eleanor and Jacques are all talking. Maybe Clint does recognize him and is just trying to be calm. Who knows?
Overall, I love Kate. But Clint is still my main focus.
But I love their interactions.
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Cowboy in Distress l Jack 'Whiskey' Daniels x F!Reader
For my dear @ezras-channel-rat. You gave me such great vivid material to work with. You seem like a freekin badass and thus I ship you with a man who knows god is a woman: Jack Daniels
Warnings: discussion of alcohol, gun is present but not used, snow falling down, some butting of heads at first, a fluffy meet cute
“Ah bullocks.” You cussed as the snow began falling in earnest. You’d been exploring the gorge up north and enjoying some alone time away from people. You hoped you’d get back home before the storm.
Ahead you saw some tail lights pulled off to the side of the road. You slowed down, looking out the window for anyone in the truck. It would be a terrible time to have a car break down.
“Howdy!” A man standing next to the car waved you down. He seemed normal enough so you slowed, rolling down the passenger window.
“Problem?” You called out the window.
“Engine overheated. ‘Fraid she don’t run so well anymore.” The man tapped the hood of his truck.
“My truck’s got a tow.” You offered. You were in a hurry but you didn’t want to just leave someone alone in this storm.
“I’d appreciate that. I can get it fixed up in town.”
You pulled up in front of his truck and grabbed your rifle from the back seat and slung it over your shoulder. You doubted this man would be stupid enough to hurt you, but you never know. Your boots crunched in the fresh snow as you walked to the back to hook up the tow. Bloody hell it was cold!
“Here I can do that.” The man took the hook from you. You observed him as he knelt down in the snow to work. He was wearing a puffy blue jacket. He looked outdoorsy and good with his hands. Not the kind of guy who should be driving an old pick up in a storm. When he slotted the tow into place he glanced up with a crooked smile. Who were you kidding? He was attractive. Attractive enough to make your jaded heart stir.
“What’s your name?” He asked, standing and warming his hands in his pockets
“Chevy. And you?” You gave the tow a kick to check that it was in place.
“Whiskey.” He offered with an easy smile.
“You’re making that up.” You groaned.
“No I ain’t.” The man shook his head, taken aback by your reaction.
“You sure you weren’t trying to find a cooler name than Chevy?”
“Chevy is a mighty cool name, but I swear on my momma, Whiskey has been my name for a long time.”
“Fine. Whiskey.” You shrugged, fighting back a smile. “You better get in.”
He grabbed a satchel from his front seat before getting into your truck. You appreciated he tapped his boots on the step up so as not to get snow into your car. He was silent for a few minutes while you pulled back on the road, checking the rearview every few seconds to make sure his truck was still hitched. The road was becoming more treacherous and you were thankful for your snow tires.
“So, Whiskey, what were you doing up here?” You asked after a while. You didn’t really care but you hated the silence.
“Eh this and that.” He shrugged. You frowned. Why so evasive?
“You’re not a criminal or something? Because I will throw you out of my truck.”
“Nothin’ like that.” Whiskey laughed. “I do business up here.”
“Business.” You rolled your eyes.
“Top secret stuff.” He added giving you that crooked smile again. You frowned deeper. That smile probably got him everything he ever wanted. It’s the kind of glamor you would have fallen for in your younger days.
“Whatever you say.” You do little to hide the sarcasm in your voice. He obviously wasn’t going to give you a straight answer. No point in continuing to prod.
“And what’s your business up here?” He turned the conversation to you.
“Just some camping. Little bit of fishing though there’s not much this time of year” You replied.
“Alone?” He asked, lifting his eyebrow.
“You think a woman can’t be on her own in nature?” You shoot him a withering look.
“Nah I didn’t mean it like that, sugar.” He sat up holding his hands up in defense. “I swear… I mean a beautiful lady like you. I’d have thought you’d be-”
“It’s just me.” You grumbled, tightening your hands on the steering wheel and picking up the pace. After an awkward break in the conversation you sighed, posture deflating. “Sorry. I get defensive. Habit.”
“I meant no offense. I think it’s badass.”
“Sure.” You brushed his comment off.
“No, I really mean it, Chevy. I'm damn lucky you're bravin' this storm because you rescued me from the cold.”
“Well…” You squirmed under his warm gaze and praise. You thought of something clever to say: “I couldn't leave a DID in this storm.”
“What’s that now?” He chuckled.
“DID. Damsel In Distress.” You chuckled. He didn’t seem to mind the teasing which made you feel a little more at ease. Maybe this guy wasn’t so bad. He could handle your sharp tongue so that was better than most people you knew.
“That’s me… say when we get into town can I buy you a drink? As a thank you?”
“Sure. But if you’re expecting me to get wasted after one little sip you’re mistaken.” You smirked.
“I wouldn’t have dared to assume.” He laughed again. Your smile dropped off when you realized you just agreed to get a drink with him. Like a date. How long had it been since you’d said yes to that? Damn he was smooth.
“Lemme guess… you’re a dark liquor sort of gal.” He rubbed his mustache thoughtfully. “You rolled those pretty eyes when I said whiskey earlier and it wouldn’t be brandy. Definitely not scotch. So… it’ll be bourbon or rum.”
“Pretty good. Spiced rum is my thing.” You were genuinely surprised he could guess. Most men assumed, despite your lack of makeup and Ford pick up truck, that you liked cocktails. You’d always turn down anyone who would buy you those drinks because you knew they just didn't get you.
“I thought so. You’re soulful and intentional. Rum for sure.” He gave you that crooked smile again and this time it felt like you earned it. Your heart clenched fiercely in your chest. If you didn't know better you’d say he was flirting with you and you liked it.
If you were rum and he was whiskey, what did that say about him? Sure he was a smug motherfucker but he was damn good at breaking down your walls. Why was that? Maybe that was a skill from his “top secret business.” Still, you hoped that his sweetness was because he liked you.
Suddenly the car began to feel very warm and the falling snow was not an inconvenience. It was almost romantic. If one believed in those cosmic signs, which even after everything you'd been through, you still did. Alright universe, show me what you got.
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Deep in Your Bones
Whew, so this is my nearly a month late Jilytober Bingo Card fic LMAO. I like being able to pay my bills, but having to work to do it? I don’t know friends, I just don’t know.
Anywho, thank you again to @joyseuphoria for organizing this year’s Jilytober! And here are my overly ambitious choices for this bingo card:
They’ve spent nearly every day of the Christmas holidays together, with Lily taking James along for her favorite muggle activities. They’ve seen a film at the cinema, watched Christmas movies huddled under a blanket while her father pretended not to spy on them, and even took a picture with a Father Christmas—who gave the couple the same confused looks as the parents of small children in the line around them. Father Christmas was clearly a professional, though, and stuck to his script, asking James what he wanted for Christmas.
“Somehow I got this beautiful creature. I think you’ve already delivered my gift.” James had said, his eyes locked on hers in a way that seemed to have rearranged her breathing.
Lily had absolutely melted. She was so distracted that when Father Christmas turned to her with an impressed twinkle in his eye, she pushed out a rushed “earmuffs” and promptly whisked James away to do some things they couldn’t do in front of small children.
And now, with just a few days left, they’ve found themselves walking through muggle London and at the door of a shop that advertises palm and tarot card readings. She’d been excited, thinking of how it would be a laugh, but James seems oddly uninterested.
“James, please. I’ve always wanted to visit a muggle fortune teller. It’ll be fun! We won’t take it seriously.”
“If most of the wizarding Seers are frauds, I can only imagine the muggle ones are just as ridiculous.” James rolls his eyes before switching gears and giving him one of his looks, stepping in close and placing his hands onto her hips. “Besides, wouldn’t you rather go get some hot chocolate? Or warm up other ways . . .” he trails off, pressing a kiss to the skin just behind her left ear.
Her eyes flutter closed. It’s a move he’s perfected during their patrols together as Head Boy and Head Girl, one that has had them nearly racing down the halls to be done so they can return to the Head’s Office and steal a few moments (hours) alone. He’s used it as a distraction on many occasions, but today, Lily Evans won’t be deterred.
“Who says we can’t do all three?”
James sighs again, dropping his head down to her shoulder.
“Please, James.” Lily pouts, pulling her eyebrows to meet in the middle and softening the look in her eyes. Pouting is uncharacteristic of her, she knows, but James is putting up a fight she hadn’t expected, and she plays to win.
James curses under his breath. “It’s hard enough to deny you anything, but I can’t when you look at me like that.” He reaches underneath his glasses and presses his fingertips to his eyeballs with a groan. “Okay, fine. But let’s make it quick.”
Lily lets out an excited squeal before standing to her tiptoes and pressing a quick kiss to his lips, followed by a lingering, warm one that promised more later.
“Feeling better about this already.” James says as he opens the door, placing a hand on her lower back to guide her through.
The lighting in the shop is dim, with candles sitting on tables and countertops throughout the space. Lily takes in the faint smell of incense when deep purple curtains open before them, revealing a bespectacled woman with hair wrapped elaborately into a yellow scarf and bangles hanging from her arms.
The woman observes them both before speaking, looking them up and down in a way that makes Lily feel rather exposed. “I sense doubt in you. But if you are decided, you may sit.” She disappears behind the curtains, and James and Lily exchange confused looks before shrugging and following her through to the other side.
The woman sits in front of a table stacked with candles, cards, herbs, and figurines. She watches them as they sit, stretching her fingers before picking up a deck of cards from the table. “I am Pythia.” She announces as she shuffles the cards, her eyes never leaving the two of them. “Is there anything in particular for which you are seeking answers?”
Lily glances toward James, who is giving her a look that says, very plainly, ‘this was your idea.’
Placed on the spot, she falters a bit. “Er, we’d like to know what the future holds for us, in general.”
“In general.” The woman—Pythia, repeats.
Lily nods with more certainty than she feels as Pythia continues to shuffle the cards.
“Know that we can stop at any time, my child.” Pythia says.
Lily looks to James again, who seems confused at this statement and the warning tone accompanying it. His eyes lock onto hers, and she knows the ball is in her court again. Lily turns to Pythia and gives her a nod.
Pythia closes her eyes and takes a deep breath before pulling cards from the deck, slowly laying three onto the table. “Your relationship is new. You haven’t always been this close.”
“Not for lack of trying.” James says mostly to himself.
Lily smirks. “You spent the first five years we knew each other being a prat.”
“Toerag, I think you called me.”
“An unfortunately accurate description.” Lily leans over and places a hand over his, linking their fingers together and resting them onto his knee. “Not now though.” She tells him this often because it’s true. Maturity looks good on James, and he’s become what she always knew he could be: considerate, dependable, steadfast. She never wants him to doubt that she’s noticed.
James gives her a look she’s seen quite often since they’ve started dating—adoration mixed with surprise, a how on earth did I manage this—before picking up their conjoined hands and pressing a kiss to the back of hers.
“He’s always been forthcoming with his feelings, but it took you a while to admit yours, did it not?” Pythia asks. “But you had known for quite some time before you admitted them.”
James glances at her curiously, and Lily blushes. She had only told him that she was certain she liked him and that she waited to be sure. Lily hadn’t told him about the exact moment she realized she wasn’t just content with having him as a friend. She’d danced around the memory of that day in Potions in their sixth year, when a cauldron of Amortentia sat on Professor Slughorn’s desk emitting spirals of smoke, and all she could smell was new parchment, her mother’s Christmas cookies, and James’ aftershave. The realization had haunted her for weeks, and when she finally admitted her feelings to him, Lily couldn’t believe that James hadn’t noticed the furtive glances, blushes, and lingering hugs she’d been giving him.
“I like to be sure about things.” Lily says finally. “Besides, I’d heard him say he was over me one day after class.”
“A lie if there ever was one.” James rubs his thumb over hers. “If I’d known that I had a chance I would’ve never said it.”
“Indeed. The two of you are very much in love, despite your ages.” Pythia taps on one of the cards twice with her index finger. “The cards are nearly screaming it into the aether.”
James is warming up to the idea of having their fortunes told now. His lopsided grin graces his features, and he squeezes her hand lightly before pressing another kiss to it. Lily can never get enough of the feeling that comes from his touch and affection. James gives her both so freely, so often, that she wonders how she ever survived without it. She smiles dreamily up at him before Pythia’s voice snaps her back to their surroundings.
“I don’t think you want to continue.”
Lily whips her head around. “But we do. You haven’t told us about the future yet.”
“You should ask yourself, my child, whether some things are better off not being known.”
Lily frowns as James rolls his eyes and gives her a look that plainly says, ‘I told you so.’
“We want to know.”
Pythia hesitates before pushing the stack of cards across the table toward Lily. “Pull two cards.” Lily obeys, trying to ignore the slight shaking of her hand as she lays the cards face up on the table and looks back to the fortune-teller.
“Your love is strong, but bittersweet. You will be intimately acquainted with tragedy and heartbreak.”
“That’s enough.” James cuts in firmly. Pythia’s eyes wander to him casually before turning back to Lily.
“Heartbreak?” Lily whispers. “What do you mean?”
“Again, I have to ask whether you would like to know, or whether you should take me up on my offer to stop at any time.”
“No. We’re leaving.” James stands and pulls Lily up with him. Lily wants to object, wants to run from the room, wants to ask for more details, but worry steals all the moisture from her throat. Pythia nods, her face betraying nothing as she gathers the cards and stacks them into a neat pile in their original location at her table.
Lily barely registers James pulling muggle money out of his pocket and placing it onto the table before whisking her out of the shop and back into the December cold. “Listen.” He says as he pulls her close and tips her chin up to look him in the eyes. “Being with you is everything I could ever ask for. I’d die before breaking your heart. You know that right?”
She nods because she does know. She feels it with their every interaction and conversation. Lily’s eyes close as he presses a kiss between her furrowed eyebrows and then another to her lips. But she doesn’t speak.
Because what if the heart that breaks is his?
As the days pass, James works tirelessly to push the thought from her head, and before she knows it, they are back at Hogwarts, trying not to buckle under the weight of NEWT workloads, prefects’ meetings and rounds, and in James’ case, Quidditch practice. The day with Pythia is pushed back to a hazy memory as she and James steal kisses during patrols and a bit more than kisses on days James meets her in the Heads’ Office after practice looking sweaty and windswept.
On many occasions, they just find themselves in the common room late at night, unable to sleep, cuddled up and sharing a chair near the fire as they whisper their hopes and plans for the future. Lily is nervous about the interview Slughorn set up for her with the Head Healer of St. Mungo’s. James has trials scheduled with Puddlemere and Pride of Portree and is struggling to keep all of the balls he’s juggling in the air. But the undercurrent of it all is the mostly unspoken agreement that they wanted to do it all together. Until the day James not-so-casually mentions a dream he’s had, where she and their children sit in the stands at a Puddlemere Match (it’s how he’s decided which team he’d rather play for, after not being able to state a preference before), followed by another of him taking her flowers to her shift at St. Mungo’s with a little boy in tow.
“He looked just like me as a child, but with red hair—messy of course. Mischief twinkling in his eyes. Our genes did amazing work.” He gives her that lopsided grin, and Lily laughs and places her hands on either side of his face to pull him into a deep kiss.
“I can’t wait.” She says softly as she leans her face into the crook of his neck and breathes in deeply.
“For which one?” James asks as he pulls her tighter to him.
“Both.” She whispers.
They carry on. And late-night visits to the kitchens turn into furtive glances and nudges in the library and bleed into walks across the grounds because while she loves warm weather, James loves the cold and promises to make it worth her while. He always does, even when they are caught in the middle of a snowball fight, and Sirius throws three snowballs at them in rapid succession. James laughs and tells her to run as he quickly gathers snow to retaliate. But with a smirk of her own, she throws up a shield charm so strong that the incoming snowballs seem to boomerang back to Sirius, who has to duck to dodge them.
“Hey! No magic in the snowball fights. You know the rules, Red!” Sirius yells as he dives behind Peter to dodge the snowballs James sends his way in retribution.
“Funny.” Lily replies as she charms a large pile of snow behind Sirius. “I never took you to care much about things as insignificant as rules.”
Sirius laughs in spite of himself. “You’re a bad influence on her, Prongs.” But James doesn’t respond. He’s too busy looking at her in awe.
“Merlin, I love you.” He pulls her to him gruffly with one arm, snowball fight forgotten as he tucks a lock of hair behind her ear and kisses her in a way that McGonagall would have docked points for had she been on the grounds. Sirius and Peter take this as their chance to attack the two, but with a flick of her wand, Lily sends the mountain of snow she’d quietly charmed to land on their heads, causing them to topple over. Remus, who’d been in the Hospital Wing recovering from a full moon, was nearly in tears at the tale when she and James went to visit him.
Their walks become less treacherous as the grounds begin to defrost at the first signs of spring, and they spend afternoons lounging by the lake whenever James manages to talk into taking a break from studying. He’s lobbying for another study break one day as they head to Dumbledore’s office for their monthly meeting, and she laughs.
“Would it kill you to take NEWT’s a little more seriously?”
“It very well might, Evans, why take the risk?” He jokes. She laughs again as they walk up the steps behind the stone gargoyle that leads to Dumbledore’s office and knock. When they hear Dumbledore beckon them in, James opens the door for her and gestures for her to enter first as he always does, ever the gentleman. But when she sees who is sitting in one of the armchairs across from Dumbledore’s desk, she freezes, and James nearly trips over her before he realizes that she’s stopped walking.
But then he sees her too.
Her bangles clink against each other softly as she turns to face them, her face impassive as her eyes rove over them slowly. Her hair is wrapped in the same yellow scarf, and suddenly the memory of that day in muggle London comes rushing back, as do Pythia’s words:
“Pythia, allow me to introduce our Head Girl and Head Boy, Lily Evans and James Potter.” Dumbledore gestures to the pair, whose eyes are locked onto his guest in shock.
“We meet again.” Pythia says levelly.
Read the rest at ao3!
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Summary: For now he had you and Goku, and the occasional thunderstorm that cleansed his sorrows. The Earth held many new wonders for him to explore. He couldn’t wait to find them, especially with you. ( Sequel to The Way You Said I Love You One shot )
Pairing: Broly ( DBS ) x Fem!Reader
Word Count: 6279
Rating: Mature / 18+
A/N: Naturally after giving Broly a sweet moment in the I Love You series, I had to follow my original spicy version of his one shot as a sequel and I will happily contribute to putting Broly content out into the world.
Warning: ( explicit language )
Disclaimer: first time, size difference,
Watching the rainfall from the window easily became Broly's humble little hobby here on Earth. He did not flinch at the sounds of thunder any longer or so much as blinked when lightning raced in the clouds, but eagerly waited by the window to watch the Earth replenish itself. Refreshing himself in some way. Never had something sounding so furious soothe him since playing with Ba. It almost disappointed him when it was just raining without the thunder and lightning. He was fine watching it alone, contemplating his place on this new planet and learning to adjust to the lifestyle of an Earthling as his remaining saiyan counterparts had. But whenever you joined his side he truly felt content. Comforted by the thought he was free to be alone with the rain if he wants to, but having that coziness of another presence with him when he was done being alone. He trusted the beauty of this peaceful planet, drawn by the happiness it gave him.
When he was not training to master control of his monstrous power with Goku or exploring the endless wonders of the Earth, he sought only to stick by your side. You are smart to him, kind to him without wanting anything in return. Something he learned to accept again after meeting Cheelai and Lemo. Though he did want to give you his gratitude any way he could with the manners taught to him by his father, but also with the strength he once cursed. He now sought to protect his new friend. He doesn't have many of those around these days with Lemo and Cheelai on the run from the Frieza Force, finding it better they all separated than to be ambushed by the Frieza Force all in one place even with a planet occupied by such powerful saiyans. They would not have Broly fight another needless battle for their sake, but they try to keep in touch as often as they can just to show they are alive and well.
And the loss of his father still weighed on his heart. It wasn't always pleasant growing up with Paragus, but that was still his father. His family. Paragus did what he felt necessary to ensure their survival, with what strength he had he protected them both. Surviving is not kind, there is only a need to live and a want to keep living. That's how Broly learned to survive for himself and his father when the old man's age and training scars started to catch up on him. Even if it hurts or raised a sense of dread in Broly, it was different to live without his father anymore. That hurt, too. According to Goku, it was too soon to make a wish on those dragon balls but it was possible to bring his father back to life. Broly at least had time to consider it, though he was hesitant. Not out of resentment for the man, but because he also felt a sense of relief in his grief.
If there was anything he learned from his fight with Goku and Prince Vegeta was that those old hates need to go away and he doesn't have to finish a fight he didn't start. He'll fight when he wants to and when it excited him. Revenge for King Vegeta's actions ended when not only Planet Vegeta was destroyed but when Paragus died as well. Broly doesn’t have to fight that war anymore. Honestly, it felt like a betrayal to the man who raised him to not immediately have the desire to revive him, but he could worry about that when the time came. He was at least able to return to the Earth to bury the remains of the man. Maybe he needed the rest from surviving so long too, what better place to rest than the beautiful Earth?
For now, he had you and Goku (or Kakarot as he preferred the larger saiyan to call him), and the occasional thunderstorm that cleansed his sorrows. But that wasn't so bad now, especially with you. Your smile made him tingle inside and learning who you were as a person here on Earth just brought such warmth into his heart. Not to mention how he came to trust you with his prized possession and the care you put into keeping Ba's ear clean and soft for him. It started to smell less and less like the Vampa beast and the years of filth accumulated in it but he didn't hate the smell that came from it now. It just smelled more like you. He would open up more about his experiences on Vampa where he didn’t feel that weight of his father’s vengeance on his shoulders, recalling the fun he had on his own or with Ba before the incident. You never heard Broly laugh before, but when he told you how he use to push the large parasitic bugs on their backs to watch them squirm because of how they struggled to turn over, it was like you were talking to that bratty little kid who found joy in tormenting the poor bugs back then. A glimpse at the purity in his smile trying to return from the dark place he shoved it down into.
Naturally, it was only a matter of time before you became enamored with each other. You hadn't quite looked at him the same since he held you during his first thunderstorm. He fitted you to him like he was filling a hole in his soul with you, asking without words for your permission to feel safe with you. Your body was warmed from the cool storm breeze and dampness of your clothing by being so close to him. You could envision him holding you like that again and again. More closer, with both his larger arms fully embracing you. Yet you hesitated to pursue such feelings at first. You didn't want to take advantage of his feelings simply because he made himself at home with you and you spent so much time doing things for him. You wanted to take care of him to make up for the quiet suffering he held to himself. He’s not obligated to love you for that and when he was finally ready to socialize more with the rest of the world he could fall in love when he wanted.
But Broly made it difficult to keep your friendship chaste. He would continue to find ways to touch your hand more. The way he hunched over to meet your gaze started to leave such little distance between you. It didn't help that he held such handsome features, either. The perfect specimen of the ideal man; He was tall, dark, and handsome with an attractive brood and delicious pout to match it. Not to mention the air of mystery surrounding his past and the impressive, inhuman strength he displays on a regular basis. And when he smiled...oh, when he smiled. He had a body carved by the gods, scars that could only be rewarded in their jealousy for the beauty they created with him. Your difference in size didn't let your thoughts remain so innocent of his physique either. It was a comfort and a curse to the lonely aches between your thighs remembering how his muscles felt when you dried him with the towel that day. Very, very little is left to the imagination in his saiyan suit without the ear tied to his waist.
You were both like two pots boiling over in pining frustration for each other, waiting for that moment that would release the build-up of your need.
Until Broly had come in from his training and was caught in the rain on his way home one day. You held a towel out to him and he lowered his head for you to dry his hair instead of taking it from you. You innocently oblige, of course. His damp face peeked out from behind the fabric when you dried his messy bangs and the intensity of his eyes just locked you in when you found them watching you, all his beautiful features highlighted by the dull sheen of the water on his skin. The large saiyan leaned in closer gingerly brushing his thumb across your cheek. Your inhibitions peeled away when you drew in closer in return. Where you expected to finally kiss that beautiful pout, you're met with a large tongue sliding up the other side of your face instead. You couldn't hide the way such contact made you shudder in a mix of startle and arousal, but you could at least use it as a means to get a proper kiss out of him which he took to quite well once you explained it. If you were finally going to pursue this, you weren't going to rush into it and risk hurting him or yourself.
Kissing became normal between you in no time, but Broly would still find a means to put his tongue on you. Affectionately licking your face and neck when he nuzzles himself against you or licking at your fingers when he takes your hand in his. Simple kisses were nice and tingly too, but to him, they did not feel like it was enough for the closeness he wanted to share with you. Kissing, too, would start to incorporate his tongue leading to more heated make-outs that were harder to break from, leaving your mind drowning in a fuzzy warmth and your body heeding its own needs. Hands that roamed across his tanned muscles through the fitted black top and finding the larger scars across his body, larger hands that followed the outline of your form and pulled at your hips to take away the space between you. And the subtle, yet directing roll of hips between you both indicating the next level of affection building.
You could feel the way he was rubbing himself against your leg and had no doubt there was no way you could take him on the first try. One so humble with such a big heart would come so well endowed. The way his hips jabbed at you must have meant this was a completely new experience for him. Something you should have picked up on when he told you it was just him and his father surviving that awful planet all his life. After all, you did have to show him how to kiss you. Having it jutted into your leg certainly pulled you back in control of your mind and body and you managed to break from his lips with a heated shudder.
In the moment Broly answered only to the primal desire slowly but surely consuming inside him, an intuitive call unlike that of his inner Wrath State but not so far off. He was aware of his actions at least and still found very little control in stopping himself the closer he tried to become with you. Hands responding to a need to grasp that started bearing down on your weaker form to feel you more with his body. A mouth that wanted warmth from yours and craving the taste of it bringing him to kiss you more purposely when you tried to break away. And a heat making him susceptible to the sensitive, yet prominent need building between his legs. The whimper you made against his mouth heightened the pleasure, making it harder to heed any outside force than the carnal darkness creeping in on him. That is, until your forceful hands grasped his face and peeled him off with a loud smack of your lips. Your faces are flushed with heat, but your surprised eyes fluttering above your cheeks takes hold of his focus.
"Y-Your eyes.." You commented, panted trying to collect your breath from the strong kiss. Each eye of the large saiyan looking down on you was a shining, yellow glow defining the features normally hidden in his former dark orbs. His leer was so hazed with lust you couldn't see anything but his eyes, his expression saving you from fearing the otherwise terror that came associated with these eyes. You've seen them blue before when his hair turned gold but this was new. Your hand brushed his flushing cheeks, thumb tracing the skin under his eye. "That...they're beautiful.." He looked surprised to hear that. Your calming touch seemed to help him settle somewhat, and just like that the yellow glow faded back into the familiar dark circles.
"I-.." Broly swallowed, taking a deep breath as he reigned in his control. "..Thank you.." He simply answered. Broly released your hips and raised his hand to touch your face too, the large limb stroking your cheek as his stare fell from your eyes to your lips. When his thumb touched your bottom lip it felt like he was hearing his heartbeat in his own ears quickening and despite not kissing them again he instinctively rolled his hips and nudged his erection against your leg again. "Can I...uhh.. Can we kiss again?" He asked lowly. His lips pleaded for that touch but you could see in his eyes he meant for more. A relief from his arousal he hoped to find in filling your mouth with his large tongue again.
Oh... He was so cute. Going slow at this was not only frustrating for yourself but for him as well. You don't want to see him like this and it would become your responsibility to show him proper pleasure eventually if he chooses to kiss you like that again. Your other hand found his and you inched his thumb into your mouth. Your lips sucked around the appendage and you heard his breath stop as you slowly drew it away. "We can practice doing more.." You offered. And like the curious soul he was, Broly followed your lead without hesitation.
He was so sensitive and very receptive, attentive to your voice talking him through your actions that made his large cock twitch. When your hands exposed it and touched it something awakened that electrified his inside. The gentle sounds between your stroking of him lead him to spill his seed rather quickly in your hands. You weren't surprised by that. He didn’t come quietly, mouth hanging open and his face buried in your shoulder when he couldn’t hold your gaze anymore. His orgasm did bring back that yellow glow to his vision. It lingered with his arousal, highlighted further by the heavy breaths falling from his chest and the feeling of his half-hard and expended cock in your hands. The sight of him like this made you clench your thighs together as your warmth twitched between them. You knew you couldn't take him like this regardless of how wet you were. Even like this, with both your hands wrapped around it, it was intimidating to think about it being squeezed inside you. But you wouldn’t shy away from it for long. Preparing yourself for him now sounded twice as frustrating, so you opted for a temporary solution for both your sake. As he lied on his back under your direction, you'd hold his cock between your thighs, grinding the renewed erection between your plumb flesh and brushing him across your bare warmth. It felt like a lot already just feeling him open your folds and brush repeatedly over your aching clit, eliciting a pleasure you both could enjoy for now. Riding on him like this, you could easily open your thighs and leave it to rubbing your slick parts together until you both came.
You would do this with him almost regularly now, finding the most pleasure when you allow him to pump himself between your thighs from behind you. Once again you were blessed to be held against him from behind, but with the bonus of watching his large piece push through between your thighs over and over. Rubbing more than satisfactory orgasms from you while securing you with his strength and brushing his tongue across your skin. The more accustomed he became to emptying his balls between you the less you found that yellow glow in his eyes, however. It didn't matter, it didn't change how you felt with him. You started to bring lube into the mix which Broly took well as expected. It certainly made a sweeter sound to him when you coated his cock with it and he would thrust it between your hands and thighs for hours.
You didn't forget your end goal, however. Practicing on your own when he was away continuing his training or called to aid the universe along with the other saiyans. You purchased yourself some new toys that would help you accommodate a man of his unnerving girth, the thought of the saiyan himself finally pounding away at your deepest parts fueling you. You used them slowly at first from the smallest one to the largest one you could compare to him. Not only inside your brave cunt but practicing to take him in your mouth as well. Different angles you found needing more adjusting to than others with the bigger sized one, but the right amount of lube and natural coating of your aroused insides helped greatly.
Then came the day you knew you would be ready.
It would be another first for you both in more ways than one. On this day, there was a surprise in the weather for Broly. It rained, or at least he thought it was raining. It wasn't loud at all when he watched it from his favorite place by the window. It was definitely falling, but it fell like the way feathers fall from birds. Drifting and whipping in the distant howl of the wind. This rain was so different. Or was there something else going on with the sky today?
"Oh, it's snowing!" You announced excitedly approaching the window.
"Snowing?" He repeated inquisitively as you joined his side.
"Yes!" You remembered his knowledge of the Earth's weather and quickly added, "-Oh, it's like rain but it only comes when it's cold outside and covers everything in blankets of it. When there's enough of it on the ground we should go out and play in it." As you had done with the rain once before, you opened the window and shivered at the cold air rushing in but didn’t let it deter your hand from reaching out. "We can make a snowman or build a snow castle! Or even make snow angels! Maybe even had a snowball fight!" As you let your hand catch the snow he instinctively joined you, once again close behind you and bringing his hand out to catch the snowflakes. The snow was completely silent as it fell, the only sound was the cold wind crying through the sky and even then it sounded miles away. It didn't "purr" or "roar" like a thunderstorm. Just cold and quiet and..eerie. There wasn't even a smell to it like how the rain consumed the air. He's not sure how to feel about it, but watching it all come down was pleasing in a way like watching the rain.
Did the snow cleanse the Earth like the rain did or just make it brighter? It set such an odd sensation inside him the longer he watched each snowflake quietly vanish in his palm. They came so peacefully and then they were gone at his touch. But looking out beyond his hand they collected in thin layers upon every surface he saw. Your car, the trees, the buildings in the distance even held a small line of white.
Broly was not too unfamiliar with the touch of snow from his first day on Earth, he saw it on the ground and felt it throughout his fight with Vegeta and Goku until the snowy battleground changed in response to their great battle, but he didn't know exactly how it got there to begin with. Everything happened so fast that day, he was still picking up some pieces here and there from Goku months later. Watching snow fall from the sky was a different experience on its own. Perhaps he would always relate it to battle when it consumed the ground, but it looked like millions of tiny, pretty feathers dusting across the world.
You both let out a shiver when a particularly forceful gust of wind blew snow toward your faces and you retreated from the window with him, locking it shut. You continued to stay there watching it fall with him, brushing yourself up against him for warmth and his arms came around you to hold you close. He didn't mind hunching over a little to hold you, the large saiyan also seeking warmth from you. "It's too cold." He commented, eyes firm on the storm outside the frosted window.
"M'hm. But it's gonna be fun when it's all done falling."
"Can you eat it?"
"Uhh..Maybe not after it's settled on the ground. If this keeps up later today we can go out and try to catch the snowflakes with our tongues."
"Hm.. What does it taste like when it falls?"
"Like ice, really. It's just frozen water." Now that just made it more confusing. Ice was hard and crunchy and the snow, while cold like it, just disappeared without a trace as if some imaginary thing. You could feel him press his chin upon the top of your head as he contemplated the new information.
"Water is good.." He concluded with a soft shrug. He wasn't exactly thrilled to catch water on his tongue then if it were no different than the rain as far as taste goes. You gave him a soft chuckle and leaned back into his chest. Moving his arms further around you, Broly stands up straight and lifts you off your feet as he goes to sit in his chair by the window so he could continue to watch the outside. You are pulled into his lap and his hand rubs your shoulders before he leans against you again. His hands now rest loosely around you and his focus is out the window. You both watch the snowfall quietly before you start to lose interest in it. You place your hands on his and lift them to cup each of your clothed breasts to get his attention again. Broly blinks from his thoughts and looks down at you, finding your suggestive leer looking over your shoulder at him. You further encourage his touch by gently rocking your hips back and forth against his crotch. It doesn't take much to entice him and he responds with his hands lifting the weight of your warm breasts into his hold. He knows what you like about them by now and allows his fingers to brush across your nipples stiff from the cold, further warming them. First upward, then down and back up again until they distinguished themselves through the fabric of your top. Hardened further by the stimulation. You rocked your hips again this time to find his cock growing hard beneath his pelt.
Without hesitation, you started to remove your shirt and his hands return to catch your bare breasts, rolling each stiff bud with his thumbs as he watched you continue to shed your clothing. There was the smallest chill from being nearby the window, but you knew your skin would heat up momentarily. Broly then lifts you off his lap as if you weighed nothing, turning you around and planting his thick lips upon yours, your legs settling on each side of him while you pulled him in closer to you. Ba's ear is warm against your legs when you brushed them against the side of his hips, your hands pulling his formfitting black turtleneck up from his skin and peeling it off with his help. Your hands touch his bare chest now, ever amazed by the definition of his warrior build and sympathetic for the scars that adorned it. You don't linger there long, driven by your arousal to reach beneath the green pelt and remove the second layer beneath. Broly has to help you take his pants off too, balancing you against him with one hand and the other shoving down the rest of his clothing except Ba's ear. It's never gotten in the way before and it wasn't going to now. When he captures your lips again, his large tongue brushes over and you oblige his request to enter your mouth. He makes the most endearing hum against your mouth when your tongue twists with his and your hand starts to stroke at his cock between you. Your other hand is between your own legs stirring up your clit.
When he's fully hard, you pull from his kiss with a wet smack and reach to the small desk beneath the window, pulling back with you the bottle of lube left there from your last intimate session. The first distribution goes to the crown of his member as you massage it thoroughly around the full length of him. You grin as his breath became more audible and he rolled his hips into your hand in anticipation, stilling your movement as he slid his cock easily in your cupping grasp. The second bit is for yourself, squeezed into your fingertips and rubbed around your already wet bloom, even going as far as to press a finger into yourself with a moan from the easy stretch. You couldn’t help but continue to play with yourself in front of him, slicking your walls with the remaining lube on your fingers and enchanting him with the soft sighs in your pleasure. The sight was enough to drive Broly mad with lust for you, he could only be so patient when you were so close and so willing to have him. His hands cup your ass pulling you closer and lifting you to brush yourself against him instead. Just the way you like, the way that made you make those small sounds for him. You remove your hand from yourself and instead cup his cock between your folds, your other hand braced on his shoulder as he rolled his hips to meet the slow drag of your hips into his.
His eyes are focused on your face, the way your brow furrowed when you circled your hips against his shaft and the light "o" shape your lips took. Your hand soothes the other side not to leave an inch of his length untouched. Broly’s mouth opened slightly, tongue moistening his lips before he leaned over and drew the wet appendage across your neck, feeling you shudder in response before he closed his mouth around your skin. The touch of you, taste of your warm skin and winsome whimpers in his ears collated in a beautiful thrill driving his need to be closer to you. Safe body, beautiful body. Broly closes his eyes, his rough hands smoothing your skin up to your back to embrace you as you rocked your hips on your own, his low voice muffled against your skin moistening under his mouth.
Your hips lift, clit and tip kissing for just a moment and then the head of his cock is completely warmed by a new sensation. His eyes shot back open when he felt you slowly sink your hips down and a wetness squeeze around his cock, melting around him. His grip on you grows tight and your stomach fluttering the more your insides stretched around him. It’s the sudden jolt of his hips to yours that sheathes him inside, the sharp moan you release making him jump back to look at you.
“Sorry,” He breathe and looked panicked, a hand going to cup your face. “I-I’m sorry-”
“No, no. Don’t stop!” You whined, cheeks heavy with flush more than he had seen it. You wrap both your arms around his shoulders and continued to roll your hips in his lap without a hitch. The heat of him at long last inside you, opening your practiced hole to fit just him and only him almost turned your brain to swill out of sheer pleasure. “I did this for y-you. All for you- you- Broly, you-” You moaned, one, two, three, countless kisses placed on his lips with your voice crying out in between ascending in your pleasure. All tipping you closer to the edge when his mouth consumed yours with a hefty growl and the pump of his hips into you bounced you on his thick cock.
It was everything you wanted for so long. He hit so deep putting such a rough, yet mesmeric pressure on your walls. He thrusted at you like he had never done before, his momentum almost difficult to follow. His strokes were so excited, uneven. Very quick instances of your cunt relieved of his pressure with his longer strokes only to be completely filled when he lifted his hips closer to yours, overwhelmed by his cock reaching deeper and pumping with little leeway. Both of you were unable to contain your voices, driven by the other to seek your fill of pleasures to the end. Broly held you against him at your upper back and around your hips, sinking in his chair to catch your soaking warmth on his cock better, your breasts plump and full against his chest. Once those perfect long strokes consistently knocked your hips around it finally happened.
Your voice shot up an octave as your nails buried in the skin of his shoulders and legs clenched at his sides. Every nerve inside your cunt exploded all at once and flashes of white took over your vision. You’re twitching, he’s twitching, his burly voice rattling the very room around you when your numbing insides felt a bit of extra pressure from his cock and a hotness filling you to the brim. You’re so tensed up around him you could barely registered the ache settling in from the pressure of him inside you. The walls of your soiled cunt both nestling around his spilling girth and pushing against it for relief. You were soon limp against his heaving chest, Broly’s head tilted back against the chair in breathless bliss.
He’s actually uncomfortable so deep inside now as the high start to fade and you slowly lift your hips with what strength you had, using your muscles to try and push him out of you. It came back in so smoothly, the same time Broly’s head rolling back down to look at you and his hands holding your hips down to hold himself inside. His eyes looked callous and wanting, golden with a subtle green tint around them when they find yours. The large saiyan leans forward with you and once again your bloom is brought back to that brutal momentum of his hips thrusting at you. He’s still so hard with his seed seeping between you. It felt like you were going to fall over at such force if he wasn’t holding you, but you still braced your hands on his arms. His shiny eyes ogled your bouncing breasts, pulling you back just enough to clamp his hot mouth around one of your nipples and drag his tongue across it, letting go and then doing it again until it slicked with his saliva and teeth marks.
The growls falling out his chest were so savage to match the might of which he pounded at you with those wild, uneven strokes again. The more he went at it, the less of a discomfort it became when you were brought to another orgasm. You felt the carpeted floor against your back suddenly as he laid you down without so much as stopping, bearing down on you in such a way it made your legs draw back and toes curl in when Broly rolled his hips into yours with those long, filling strokes again. It was like you were being stretched out again, as if he has gotten bigger inside you. You arched your back mewling helplessly at the pain and pleasure blending into one heightened mindset of numbing ecstasy. Broly is pushing into you and pulling your hips back to him with such force on your elevated hips there was no way you could wiggle out of it.
“Bro- I’m-” You tried to speak out to tell him you were coming again but it came so quickly all you could do was ride out the intensity of it as he mercilessly thrust you through the flutters of your cunt clamping down him. In the instances your eyes could focus on him, it looked like he was in a trance, drool falling out the side of his gaping mouth and eyes watching his own cock squeeze itself inside of you over and over without resistance, drawn by the wet sound it made when your hips met. The drone of his voice in his breathless growls made him sound like some rutting beast. If he had pulled back too far and cause himself to sloppily fall out of you, he just shoved himself back in and thrust deeper instead. Once again pushing at your aching depths and pushing him from hitting so deeply after another orgasm. Your hands were fighting to grip the carpet around you just to find some relief from the assault. Both of Broly’s hands find the floor beside your head and your hips are raised higher when he leans over you, his unrelenting hips driving him even deeper inside you.
The corners of your eyes beaded up under the constant, overwhelming stimulation that when he finally came again you were happy to slip off his cock as he came on your stomach instead. You felt the floor beside your head crack under the power of his hands and see his arms tremble. He continues to rub his spurting member against your stomach, growling in his throat and shuddering throughout his spine and shoulders. You felt so weak under the glow of his eyes when you turned your head forward to look at him again. Your voice croaks when you call his name again but he doesn’t seem to respond to you. Entranced by the way his seed decorated your stomach and belly button and how his cock dribbled it out onto you. It was still hard, twitching against your body and you knew he would do it again but your body couldn't take that aggression so soon. The pleasure had faded quickly and there was only soreness in your hips and between your legs.
“I-I can’t..“ You whimper, reaching your hands to his face to make him look at you. It was scary how sharply he turned to face you when you spoke his name again, pupils shrunk in his feral gaze. “Come back, Broly.” You tried to speak calmly, clearing your throat to sound more firm. “Come back to me. C-Come back, beautiful boy..”
His shoulders still look tight and his grip won’t let up on the floor. You hear it further crack beneath you. Your hand smoothed his cheeks and circled the corners of his slack jaw. The furrow in his brow seemed to relax bringing a smile to you. “I didn’t mean to surprise you like that. You did great.” When you spoke again, his shallow huffs grew deep and his large chest slowed with more even breaths.
The hints of green was the first to fall from his eyes and his face completely relaxed under your hands. You slowly massage your way to the base of his skull and through his wild hair. “(Y/n)..” He moans softly. The floor creaked as his grip fell away and he caresses your face in his large hand, yellow eyes looking you over. You pull him down on top of you and kiss him deeply.
Despite your aches, you focus yourself on him to settle him down, wrapping your arms around his neck to kiss at his lips more encouraging reciprocation. Broly purposely leaves his hands back on the floor, flat, away from you. Ashamed. He trains, he trains so that wouldn't happen and he let it anyway. What if he couldn’t stop?
“Did I feel good?" You asked him softly, brushing a hand down his hair. "That's why that happened, it's okay. You feel so damn good inside me..” You comforted him between kissing at his lips, rubbing your hands at his shoulders. You look back up into his still yellow eyes. They are calmer now, so exotic and attractive. You sigh happily feeling the tension leave his body. “You’re so beautiful.” You whisper to him.
Your hands on his face again fill an overwhelming sensation in his chest along with your comforting voice. It hit him so fast. Broly lets out a breath against your lips and feels warmth in his face as his whole body shuddered. The soft sound that huffed out of him was followed by a muffled, sadder one when he finally kissed you back. Another warmth fell from his eyes and every breath felt less heavy between your kisses, he moves his arms underneath you and nuzzles his face into your neck to hold you close and took in the scent of your softer skin. He didn't expect that reassurance when he clearly hurt you, he should be punished for doing that. And yet you made sure he didn't hold that guilt for it, continuing to kiss at his face and brush at his hair as he hid his sorrow in your skin. "Let it out, it's okay. I got you."
Beautiful body, Safe body. Home.
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domestic tokyo revengers characters
„in 12 years, please stay away from me“
including: Ran Haitani • Takeomi Akashi • Ken „Draken“ Ryuuguji • Manjiro „Mikey“ Sano • Baji Keisuke • Kazutora Hanemiya • Hanma Shuji • Kakucho Hitto
warnings: none, just pure fluff
sunday mornings with Ran in your shared bed, talking to each other as quiet as possible so your kids don’t notice you’re already awake and you can have a flew minutes together.“ Do you think we could drop them off at my brothers?“ he’d suggest with a sly grin.“Last time we did that, he thought them how to play poker.“ You giggle.“Then Kaku, they love uncle Kaku.“
Later on he’d always make breakfast for the five of you with the twins on his side, claiming they wanna help him.
Takeomi falling asleep on the couch with your child in his arms after a long day of work for they’re watching the nth Disney movie and only waking up as feels them jump on his stomach. „Dad, wake up! You’re gonna miss the princess ball!“
He has watched this money enough times to know every damn magical animal and song yet sings along with the little brat in his arms, even dancing for he can’t say no to his little angel.
Darken and your daughter taking Halloween way to serious and making it their mission to scare everyone in the family at least one time. I’m talking about fake blood, soundeffects, spiders. Just so they could scare you and your other kids to death.
What he doesn’t know is that you and your oldest child are planning a revenge on them, causing him to scream like a maniac in the middle of the night.“Aha! Don’t fuck with me, old man!“ your oldest would laughs, after scaring them and enjoy the sweet revenge.
Mikey would cook for you whenever you have a bad day, or at least he’d try his best. The whole house would be cleaned, music in the background and even candles. Everything would look so lovely until you actually sit down and try the meal he prepared to find out it takes like chipboard. But at least it makes you smile and so he doesn’t mind it. You’d just order food and spend the evening on the couch.
Your kid is terribly embarrassed by Baji whenever the two of you would attend a game of them. Your husband is their biggest fan and so it’s only logical that he’s also the loudest. He’d yell and clap and root for them in every match, ignoring all the other parents who’re eyeing him like a psycho for its only a football match for middle schoolers. This man has and will start a fight with the referee, so you better not leave his side.“[title], can you tell him to calm down, he’s embarrassing me in front of my friends,“ they’d complain but you’d just shake your head.“No can do, sweetheart.“
Kazutora waking up in the middle of the night because your little boy is screaming again and he doesn’t want you to get up. After some time you’d notice that your husband isn’t back in bed and so you’d look for him, just to find the man in the nursery. The baby is asleep again and a grin grows on your face because they still have his hair on their little hands, not letting him go. He’d smile and bite the inside of his cheek so he wouldn’t curse or scream for that little human in his arms is plugging out half his hair.“You want some help?“ you giggle quietly whereupon he quickly nods.
If there is one thing Hanma can’t resist, except for you of course, then it’s your son’s puppy eyes. He loves spoiling him with whatever he wants. New toys? Done. Video games? There is a whole closet filled with them. Phones, clothes, trips. Whatever this little brat wants, Hanma will get it.
„You can’t just buy him a car! He’s 17!“ You’d yell as the two of them would come home in a black mercedes.“But look at his little face, he’s just so cute.“ Hanma would squeeze his cheeks and talk to him like when he was a baby. You’d just roll your eyes and smile. Yeah, you both love spoiling him.
Kakucho becoming completely domestic after you have children. You were getting older but not that old! For the first time on months, you had the house for yourselves and instead of going or doing something exiting you spend your evening on the couch, enjoying the silence.
„You know, now that the kids are at the sleepovers, we can’t be bothered by anyone,“ he said with a sly smile on his face, looking over to you.“Are we thinking the same thing?“
In the span of a second has the man thrown you over his shoulder, to rush into you bedroom.
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Day 25: Ghostin’, Kaz Brekker
Fanfic, gender neutral! reader
Angst, hurt/comfort. If you know this song, you know it’s gonna hurt like hell.
Word count: 2284
Tw: Mentions of PTSD and Jordie. Kaz crying (oops). Established relationship. Haphephobia and description of dead hands touching your body. Some switches in scenario; goes from Kaz’ dream to your pov. Nightmares/night terrors. Throwing up/vomiting (and mentions of vomit)
Summary: It was no secret to you that Kaz often lay awake thanks to nightmares, but when one seems to be worse than the usual case, you grow worried, and Kaz gets stuck inside his dream. When you finally managed to pull him out of it, he needs comfort, even as you try to take care of him more than he is willing to accept.
I changed the lyrics in the song slightly, so it fits Kaz' pov. Yes, the angst is that much❤️
"I know you hear me when I cry.
I try to hold it in the night.
While you're sleepin' next to me.
But it's your arms that I need this time."
It was no secret to you about what happened to Kaz. And how he became the person he is today. You knew him well enough to know his darkest corners. Hell, you might have even known him better than he knew himself.
He had allowed himself to become vulnerable around you, something he never did for anyone. No one but you. You had been his one true exception. His opportunity to let go of the world outside and revel in your trust and comfort.
His faith in you even allowed you to sleep beside him at nights. Sure, from a distance, but still in the same bed. And it had taken him a very long while to admit that he felt safer having someone familiar around him when one of his nightmares would wake him up.
And he had been honest. He had told you this. And every night he had lain awake, you would be awake beside him, talking about anything that he wanted to hear.
"Look at the cards that we've been dealt.
If you were anybody else
probably wouldn't last a day.
Every tear's a rain parade from hell."
But the nights he stayed awake weren’t the nights you feared. It were the nights he’d wake up from terrible dreams. Dreams that forced him to suffer through everything once more.
And feared them for the simple reason that you could not stop them. You could try to comfort him, and assure him you were there, but you could not expel these thoughts from his head.
Kaz would sometimes even wake up crying, and you by the saints wouldn’t even know what to do. Kaz didn’t enjoy crying in front of others, not even if it was you, so pointing it out might only make him feel more miserable. But then again, what would you do?
Kaz had trusted you to be there for him, but all it brought you was more pain. You would never tell him, of course, but every time he’d wake up with a start, you had an internal fight with yourself on what to do.
And you could not help but beat yourself up over it.
"Baby, you do it so well.
You've been so understanding,
you've been so good
And I'm puttin' you through more than one ever should."
The night had started off so easy. Business had finally been running smoothly and you had gotten time for yourself to enjoy your book with a cup of tea. Kaz had even decided to join you, grabbing a book of his own.
Neither of you had even noticed the late hour, until Jesper stumbled up towards his room. That’s when you knew it was truly time to go to sleep.
You had already gotten comfortable in bed, still occupied with the book, which you were not going to leave with that cliffhanger. Kaz had walked over to his side, sending you a grateful smile as you made sure to give him enough space to move.
Everything had gone so well and so perfect, that you nearly forgot about the nights you would stay awake.
Or this night, where you would be ripped out of your dreams.
"And I'm hating myself
'cause you don't want to
admit that it hurts you."
Sleep had found you quick that night. Your body had been comfortably hidden under all the blankets and pillows, your mind off to wonderful dreams.
But beside you, Kaz had been taken in by other dreams. Dreams he learned to hate. Dreams that might not even be dreams, merely memories. But they were not pleasant; No.
They were old flashbacks of his earlier life with Jordie. And every time something would grow pleasant, his brother’s dead face would come into view, instead of the lively look he had held earlier.
He knew he was dreaming; he remembered the feeling. You had told him so often it wasn’t real. You had given him tips about getting yourself out of them, and he had tried them, but the minute a cold - no - frozen hand touched his shoulders, the poor boy malfunctioned.
Because that was his brother’s hand. His dead brother’s hand. And he did not know how to get rid of it.
"I know that it breaks your heart when I cry again
I know that it breaks your heart when I cry again
instead of ghostin' him."
You had woken up to a heavy turning beside you. You frowned at the feeling, only having experienced waking Kaz up because he was whimpering. But as you turned around to face him, you saw nothing but sheer panic and raw fear on his face.
Even with his eyes closed, it had been so painfully obvious.
You immediately sat upright, forcing the sleep out of your face as your hand loomed over Kaz’ figure, not yet touching him.
“Kaz.” You whispered, shifting towards him lightly.
“It’s just a dream. Wake up.” You quietly urged.
But Kaz did not hear you yet. Not while he was battling with himself.
"We'll get through this,
we'll get past this,
I'm a boy with a whole lot of baggage."
Jordie’s hands on Kaz’s body seemed to multiply by the minute, and the feeling was excruciating. Various pairs of cold, dead hands ran up and down his body, taunting the boy silently, nearly forcing him to throw up.
The running of the fingers, the scratches of the nails, the metal of the rings, that had somehow been warmed than the bodies themselves: it drove him insane. He tried to slap the hands off, or even run away from them, but his attempts were futile. It seemed as if they had followed him everywhere.
Oh, how he wished to wake up in his bed now, only to turn to you and let everything fall down in front of his love. He needed to blow the fear off, let it fall from his shoulders as you would comfort him through the night, but it nearly appeared as if this wasn’t in his head. As if this had been real.
And you had not been there to save him from it.
"But I love you,
we'll get past this,
I'm a boy with a whole lot of baggage."
“Kaz!” You now whispered, your voice a tad bit louder, though it was still hushed in case someone would wake up.
You turned towards the cup of water that had always been on your desk. Just in case you’d grow thirsty. Should you throw it over him? That would be terrible, right? Just a simple nudge wouldn’t hurt. It is done out of your effort to help him.
So with much contemplation, you gently nudged his side with your hand, trying to get him to wake up. But your attempts were fruitless. He could not seem to get out of his head.
“Kaz, come on.” You continued, now giving him another nudge. But he had yet to wake up.
"Though I wish he were here instead.
Don't want that living in your head.
He just comes to visit me.
When I'm dreaming every now and then."
The hands had now been all over his body, giving him no room to breathe. Bile had begun to rise up his throat, but he couldn’t get rid of it. Not even after retching multiple times. It appeared as if he was simply forced to suffer.
Tears escaped his eyes as he found himself completely lost, engulfed in the one thing he feared the most. He could not run and you were not there. No words to try to get him to stand up. No visible escape for him to take. There was naught but torment. Endless torment that nearly seemed to make fun of him.
“Kaz!” He heard faintly, as his breath got stuck in his throat as he recognized the voice. It had been you. and it had been a dream. He would simply wake up and be fine.
“Kaz, come on.”
The boy heard your prayers and he wanted to obey them so much, but he couldn’t seem to be able to. His heart had beaten faster than it ever did, and he could swear it was pushing all air out of his lungs. His whole skin was engulfed in goosebumps as painful tears ran past his cheeks.
“Help!” The boy finally yielded, calling out for you. Wishing that you would come and save him. If he could not get himself out, perhaps you could.
"And after all that we been through,
there's so much to look forward to.
What was done and what was said:
Leave it all here in this bed with you."
“Help.” Kaz had mumbled in his sleep. Your heart broke at the sight of droplets of water falling from his eyes and you had so desperately wanted to get him out.
But the shaking did not seem to help, for he was still lost in his dreams. You let out a frustrated sign, scanning the room for something - anything to help. But there was nothing else but that glass of water on your night stand.
And whatever you were going to do, it had to be quick.
So without another second of hesitation, you reached for the cup, emptying the contents in Kaz’ face.
"Baby, you do it so well.
You've been so understanding,
you've been so good.
And I'm puttin' you through more than one ever should."
He was ripped from his dreams by a cold sensation on his face. Colder than the hands had been. But this time, it had been real. He could feel the water drip from his face as he shot up, gasping for breath as the bile continued rising up his throat.
His eyes caught sight of yours, a look of pure worry written on your face, before he leaned over his side of the bed, emptying his stomach on the floor.
Your eyes widened at the sight as you crawled over to him, sitting beside Kaz as new tears were now falling from his cheeks once more.
“I’ll get some water for you.” You quietly offered, already rolling over to your side. But the boy had stopped you in his tracks.
“No.” He croaked out, turning his head back to your figure.
"And I'm hating myself
'cause you don't want to
admit that it hurts you."
The desperation in his eyes was killing you. He needed to drink something, but the silent pleading forced you to stay. So you gave him a short nod, sitting over next to him again.
“Do you want to talk about it?” You began, giving him one of your shirts that you kept under your pillow so he could dry his face.
Kaz stared at the material for a minute, before accepting it, wiping his face from the cold water that ran from it.
“It was him again.” He managed out, just as more tears gathered in his eyes. “It’s always the same.”
You frowned at the words. While you knew he would be dreaming about his brother again, it did not take any of the pain away from it.
“But there were so many-” He whispered, before a sob interrupted his speech, making him bury his head in your shirt.
"I know that it breaks your heart when I cry again
I know that it breaks your heart when I cry again
instead of ghostin' him."
And the mere sight of him breaking down in front of you, was enough to gather tears in your eyes too. He had always held him so high, but seeing him like this, like nothing but the seventeen year old boy he had always been; it hurt you. It hurt you for there was nothing to do but talk.
“It’s okay. You’re here now.” You tried gently. “You’re here again.”
“I couldn’t escape.” He confessed through the fabric, not lifting his head to gaze into your eyes. “I did what you told me to, but it didn’t work.”
You sighed in defeat and empathy, now sitting next to him completely. “But you are in your room now. They can’t get to you.” You tried to soothe.
When Kaz didn’t respond, you decided to let him be for a while, only sitting there and letting him decide his own pace. If he wanted to stay like this the entire night, you would let him.
"We'll get through this,
we'll get past this,
I'm a boy with a whole lot of baggage."
After what felt like minutes, he finally raised his head. His sobs had began to fade out as the tears left nothing but red streaks down his cheeks.
“Hey.” You whispered, taking back the shirt he handed you. “Do you feel any better?”
Kaz shook his head lightly, before resting it against the bed frame behind him.
“Anything I can do?” You asked.
“Just stay.” He answered, his voice breaking slightly. “Don’t go.”
You nodded in assurance, following his example of resting your head against the bed frame.
"But I love you,
we'll get past this."
When silence overtook the room once more, you risked a glance towards Kaz, who had been trying to recover himself.
“I do need to clean the floor.” You quietly brought up, though the scent had yet to reach both of you thanks to the open window letting in the fresh night air.
“Not yet.” Kaz spoke, looking over his shoulder. His hand neared yours, before it fell down beside it. He extended his pinky towards you, silently asking you to take it.
You smiled lightly at the gesture, linking your pinky with him as your eyes finally met his.
“Tell me when it’s okay to get up.” You proposed, sending him a reassuring look, to which he dared to show you a thinly formed smile back.
"I'm a boy with a whole lot of baggage."
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