Tumgik
#and also he just snapped and chopped off all his hair
Note
How would riddle, malleus and epel react to the overseer personally knowing their family their family was not aware they were the overseer (for malleus and epel the overseer met their grannys and for riddle they know his mom)
Self-aware au
I do not take any responsibility for you reading this no matter which age group you are from!
WARNINGS: Yandere themes, obsession, kidnapping, religion, cult, unhealthy relationship, threats, blood, imprisonment
Riddle Rosehearts/Epel Felmier/Malleus Draconia-Player knows one of their family members
Tumblr media
Riddles mother
It was once more time for a holiday
NRC was prepared to host a few attractions and to have family members visit for a day or two
Riddle was warned by a letter from his mother that she was coming
So the day was here. The celebration was in full swing. And look at that, it's the mother of a certain redhead. Noo-I mean, yay...
Riddle was prepared for another scolding for something he “did wrong” but after greeting her son (in a way too stiff manner) she turned to you and... greeted you as well?
You see, little, helpful you had promised the former red tyrant to help his dorm with their celebration so you were also present when the madam came over
“Mother, why do you know the Overseer?” “What are you talking about, Riddle?”
Apparently, Trey had once invited you to meet his family after you showed interest in his siblings and the bakery. In the Queendom you had gone on a walk in the forest, slipped and twisted your ankle so badly that you couldn't walk anymore. Luckily Riddles mother came by (for some reason) and helped you, being a doctor and all
Now, lady is of course no idiot so after her son had asked her that question she was just a new addition to the garden as a statue
Riddle was terrified that you saw the polite yet also arrogant way his mother spoke to you in the past as something rude
Now, you were of course not the biggest fan of her but at least she healed you back then
Once you are gone, running off to Pomefiore to help over there, Riddle had a talk with his mother
Usually he would show her respect but today it was like the roles were reversed
Kind words and any kind of love he had left for her were thrown out of the window when he asked her “how she could have not recognized their uncrowned ruler?”
Riddle was this close to snapping and using his special magic on her
For the first time Riddles mother was afraid of her son
Never before had she seen him so angry
But oh well, better stay in line and be nice to you instead of finding out how far she could push his boundaries
It was almost like he wouldn't just chop her head off in a metaphorical sense with his special magic but rather literally in a much, much more bloody way
Tumblr media
Epels Grandmother
Ah yes, Epels sweet sweet granny could of course not miss her beloved grandson
She even prepared some cake and other delicious treats for him. How sweet!
So when perfection themselves, the Overseer, suddenly marched over after they spotted a familiar mop of light lilac hair he nearly had a heart attack
But instead of his Granny being surprised she just said a nice hello, that it was good to see you again and how things had been since you had seen each other
Why did his granny know the Overseer? Why did his granny know God?
Now Epel couldn't of course ask that later part, considering that his villages view on you was in comparison rather... yeah let's call it “extreme”
Turns out he had forgotten something when he visited Harveston the last time and you brought it to him, only for you to meet his Grandmother before you ran into him. Giving her what he forgot the two of you had a nice little talk before you left
And this is the point when Epel felt like he was ready to bash his head against the wall
Vil must have noticed a short in Epels mood because the model just threw him a very poisonous look
So here Eprl was, standing like a lost little child between his Granny and f-ing God whilst the two of you had a nice little chat about the weather
When you finally said goodbye to the two, running off to Diasomnia because you were invited for tea, Epel was juts like “Granny, we need to talk.”
Say goodbye to your apple-free days because after that talk, there will be boxes of so-called “offerings” in front of your door. Every. Single. Day.
“Granny, don't be too shocked but you met God.” “Hoho, what are you talking about?” “...” “Oh...”
For the rest of the day her legs were so shaky that Epel was afraid for her health
I mean, come on, the very person who has drilled tales about a deity into your head finally meeting said deity is something that is guaranteed to have a way too high blood pressure
The next time you run into her she isn't entirely sweet anymore
Of course she is still nice but there is something creepy about her. The way her eyes drill into you, how her questions are always a tad bit too personal
And did she just utter a prayer with your name in it? Nah, must be your imagination
Tumblr media
Malleus Grandmoter
How she didn't recognize you the first time you two met is a wonder considering that she has that sixth sense every Fae has that tingles even when you are being simply mentioned
But today is a great day, Malleus grandmother came over to visit her grandson, a rare day of rest for her
Maleus was just about to tell her that he had invited a guest when you showed up
So when he stood up to introduce you to her she was just like “Oh, the child of man I met that one day.”
Cue Malleus standing there like a plank
Poor man is so surprised that he can't even ask how the heck you two met each other
When he finally asked when you two met he found out that he had forgotten to send a letter of his so you had jumped through one of the mirrors and delivered it to the castle yourself
After almost getting impaled for jumping right into a heavily guarded castle you had explained yourself and boom, you had a fife minute talk with grandma Draconia
Ok, great, wonderful, but did she know that you were the Overseer?
When he told her who you were she had to set down her teacup, shock sinking into her bones
Following his words you asked what he meant with Overseer
This was the day Diasomnia saw their dorm leader drop a teacup
Like with Epel you are now more or less in trouble
I mean, yeah, it's nice to get literal national treasures sent to your doorstep but at the same time, what the heck??!
Back in the Valley of Thorns the Fae are panicking left and right
What do you mean, the Overseer has already visited us once? And we pointed all kind of sharp tools at them??!
It wouldn't be much of a surprise if you just woke up one day in a room that you had never seen before, living like a bird in a golden cage
You know, the next ruler has taken a liking to you and your loyal followers need to protect you
So sit still and don't try to run
1K notes · View notes
theres-a-body-here · 1 month
Note
If requests are open, could you do killers of your choice reacting to the new guy?
Like, the Unknown managing to lure them in by mimicking a survivor's voice
I took some creative liberty for this TW: Violence, death Characters: Trapper, Knight, Blight Male!reader mentioned
Tumblr media
The Trapper - Evan MacMillan
Evan is working on his bear-traps in his warehouse. The realm is silent, the sounds of faint cawing and the rustling of leaves echoes through the estate.
Out of nowhere, a voice calls out
"E...van?"
He stops working immediately
That was your voice, but you'd left for a trial just a while ago
There's no way you'd be back this early
Evan sighs rubbing his temples
Maybe he's been working for way too long; starting to hear things
Before he can go back to tightening bolts, he hears it again
"Evan"
He immediately stands up, so abruptly that his chair falls over
The stomps outside, confused and a bit worried
"(Y/N)?"
He hears no response
The air is still and the hairs on his body stand stiff
Suddenly, the smell of rotting flesh and wet copper
Something was wrong
Evan notices that even the crows have stopped making sounds
Slowly, he tries to head back into the building; he needed his cleaver
He turns around to look at the entrance to the warehouse, only to see it
The Unknown was hiding, waiting for him to see it
It attacks Evan before he can react
The first thing on Evan's mind, once the Entity revives him, is to find you
Tumblr media
The Knight - Tarhos Kovács
Tarhos was sharpening his sword in the Borgo, listening to the crackle of the fire he sat by
The peace is interrupted as a bloodcurdling scream pierces through the air
It's you, or at least it sounds like you
If Tarhos had taken the time to listen, he would've noticed how off it sounded
But he was way too panicked to think
To him, you were in danger
With sword gripped tightly, he booked it to where he heard the scream
"(Y/N)! WHERE ARE YOU, MY LOVE!?"
He's absolutely distraught
"SPEAK TO ME, (Y/N)!"
every one of his questions is answered by another screech, coming from another direction
Before he knew it, Tarhos was worn out and exhausted
It seemed that was the thing The Unknown was waiting for
Before Tarhos can even think about catching his breath, The Unknown attacks him from behind, knocking him clean off his feet
A tendril of flesh stabs into Tarhos's thigh
The Knight reacts quickly, swinging his sword and slicing the appendage through with one slice
"It...hurts... No...m-more"
It spoke in your voice, as if mocking Tarhos
His heart sunk into his chest, mind flooding with questions as to why this creature knows what you sound like
The Unknown shrieks as it feels his flesh sizzle, snapping his head around to see Alejandro pressing his hot iron into it; the rest of the Compagnia manifesting alongside him
Seeing the thing distracted, Tarhos stabs the beast through the chest
The Unknown is unnerving unaffected, pulling away before crawling away on all fours
Tarhos isn't having that, reeling his arm before throwing his sword like a makeshift spear, pinning The Unknown's hand into the ground
He grits his teeth as he stomps towards the monster, screaming at it
"WHAT HAVE YOU DONE WITH MY (Y/N)?!"
Durkos and Sander rush forward as well to kill the creature
The Unknown uses its axe to chop its own hand off to escape
"(y/n)... my (y/n)" it repeats mockingly as it slinks away
Tumblr media
The Blight - Talbot Grimes
Talbot was working on his serums and elixirs when he heard your voice
"Hey....co...come over.....here"
Right off the bat, he knew it wasn't you
Talbot knows you
He knows your every scream, moan, laugh, and tone
This was something attempting to mimic that
Despite knowing whatever was calling out was trying to luring him in, he was curious to see what exactly it was
He makes his way outside, albeit apprehensively; his cane and syringe ready
The voice speaks again
"Wha...what is that...?"
It seems to be repeating something its heard previously
Were you in a trial with whatever it was?
It also seems to be getting better at mimicking you
Talbot hurries his steps to find the source of the voice
Its not long before he comes face to face with The Unknown
Talbot isn't afraid, he's downright furious
Whatever this monster was, it clearly had some contact with you
Why else would it know how you sound like?
The fight isn't pretty; both sides inflicting heavy damage on the other
In the end, The Unknown screeches as it retreats from sight, slinking away into the fog after seeing that Blight wasn't easy prey
Talbot managed to stab the syringe into the thing, acquiring a blood sample
Experimentation could wait
He needed to find you
The real you
219 notes · View notes
starry-bi-sky · 3 months
Text
more clone^2 thoughts
you know who i just remembered ALSO has long hair? Vlad. Vlad Masters. Danny's worst enemy and biggest pain in the ass ever since he sent those vulture ghosts after his fucking dAD. Danny having long hair would make Vlad so inSUFFERABLE. Like look!! Proof that you are much better off as MY son. We have matching hair lengths! Come be my son! I will make you a halfa like me and we will become powerful allies together!
Danny almost chops it off out of spite. He ends up not doing it because he likes his hair long, actually, very much so and he's not growing it out again just because you're crazy! He's attempted to take a pair of scissors to Vlad's hair though -- THAT was a fight that got ugly. Danny's go-to threat whenever he sees him after that is that he's going to chop off vlad's hair when he's not looking - just you watch, Masters. He'll do it. HE'LL DO IT.
And if Danny wasn't keeping it a tight secret, he'd turn around and taunt Vlad about being a) a clone and b) a clone of BRUCE WAYNE. he'd say stuff like:
"How's it feel knowing my parents cloned a man richer than you"
"you're just mad that bruce wayne is more my dad than you'll ever be!"
"it could've been you that my parents accidentally cloned instead of Wayne, but instead you fucked off for twenty years instead!"
but also its a constant question Danny asks himself how he and no one else ever figured it out sooner that he was a clone. He doesn't understand how Vlad of all people didn't realize it when he went to college with the man with his parents and was also stinking rich, before remembering that he doubts Vlad remembers anyone who wasn't his parents in college, and has been a rich, recluse loser this entire time.
its a good thing though, danny's pretty sure vlad would attempt a hit on the man if he found out out of pure jealousy and indignant rage. And then he'd get his ass beat by Batman and his army of children.
All in all, Dany is a pure menace towards Vlad whenever he gets the chance, as is normal, and then Vlad's suffering gets doubled after he makes Ellie - of which she is even worse than Danny because she's the halfa that Danny Is NOt and thus has the powers to break into his house easy peasy and wreck shit. She steals his obsidian black card and goes on a shopping spree. This is a regular occurrence.
(and for anyone who isn't aware - Ellie is the same age as Danny in clone^2 bc i thought it'd be fun)
And then it gets tripled once Damian joins the family and gets caught up to speed on all of Vlad's tomfoolery and whoops, Damian's got better stealth skills than Danny and looks like Ellie has a partner in crime whenever they need to sneak into vlad's house to cause him grief.
Vlad's walls are the first canvas for Damian to test out his new spray paints on once he gets them :)
next up
Wes weston! i love this guy, he's so funny and he definitely knows danny is the Phantom in the clone^2 au. it's not as easy to figure out as it is in canon since its not just a simple colorswap, but perhaps he sees Danny taking off his mask after a daytime fight. and after that he becomes determined to reveal that quiet, strange fenton is the vigilante phantom.
he's putting some real,,, detectiveness? stalkerish? skills to use because catching photos of phantom is not as easy as it is if he were a halfa. He can't just snap a few dozen photos of fenton and phantom and then color compare the two of them either - Phantom wears a mask, and works primarily at night or in evenings, and typically avoids the living during the day. And he doesn't speak to the living either. Wes has to put in some extra work into his investigations and evidence.
He also makes the dumb mistake of cornering Danny in the bathroom one day early on and telling him he knows he's the Phantom -- now that Danny knows that Wes knows, he's going to be even more careful not to get caught. He puts in a little extra work in both Fenton and Phantom - another layer, perhaps a jacket, as Phantom, and baggier pants and boots he never wears as Fenton. His hood stays up in the daytime.
He was already putting in some extra effort to appear creepy and unsettling as Phantom - things like crouching low, tense movements, fluid movements. If he's perched on something he does a kinda-crawl like movement - think a mix between a bear and a gorilla crawl. It's weird, creepy. And he stares. Danny's mastered the art of not needing to blink for long periods of time, so if he sees you and sticks around he stares. It doesn't help that you can't see his eyes that well through his mask - its just two piercing green.
It helps endear him to ghosts and his enemies though - the annoying little human boy is engaging in ghost culture! That's eliciting some form of begrudging respect from his enemies.
And then compare that creepy, almost cryptid-like behavior to Fenton who, while considered a freak, really isn't anything more than just some dorky weirdo with occasional heart problems. He's kinda unsettling - he has those 'stares into soul' eyes - but its leveled by the fact that he's kinda just... dorky. It reads as normal, awkward kid behavior, and then gets disregarded completely as he gets older and it bleeds into 'very chill teenager'. Fenton being Phantom doesn't compute that much.
Paulina: you think Phantom is Fenton? Wes: I don't think, I know he is! I have proof-- Star: Just because they both have black hair doesn't mean they're the same, Wes. That's like saying Paulina and Manson are sisters because they also have black hair.
Wes's attempts to out him as Phantom means that Danny is a little more wary of him than he is in canon, since his vigilante identity isn't an entirely different ghost form its just him, so he has to be careful about where or when he takes off his mask in case Wes is around. Especially during daytime fights.
But other than that he has a lot of time messing with him. Wes is trying to convince his table group at lunch that Fenton = Phantom (again) and Danny just so happens to be within earshot of him and starts making fun of the idea.
"You think I'm Phantom?" and he's got the most disbelieving grin on his face that's only partially convincing. "That's totally bogus, man. The Phantom famously doesn't get along with my parents, why would I be a ghost hunter and not work with them?"
He has this most shit-eating, delighted look in his eyes that Wes knows is pure manic glee at being able to mess with him and get away with it. Wes is going to strangle him.
"Besides, dude, did you forget I have a heart condition? I can't be chasing around ghosts - my heart would give out from all that running and jumping."
Although Danny can get really serious at the flip of a coin if need be - especially with Wes when he gets too pushy about him being Phantom. A notable instance is when Wes cornered him in an empty bathroom to again talk about him being Phantom.
Except Danny, who had been working on a really difficult cold case about the death of a child, and hadn't gotten much sleep in the last 72 hours, plus a plethora of other stuff (like recently acquiring Damian, fighting ghosts, etc), wasn't in the mood to entertain him. It ended with Weston getting pinned to the wall and lowkey threatened by Danny. He apologizes for it afterwards but it's not forgotten.
Additional note: Wes Weston having a crush on Danny Fenton is a hilarious trope to me so Wes absolutely has a crush on Danny and the only one in denial about it is him. Everyone else - except Danny because he's more focused on the fact that Wes knows his identity, and has other things to worry about - knows about it, and everyone chalks up his obsession with Danny as being part of said crush.
Wes' friend: you know usually when you have a crush on someone you normally confess, maybe ask them out, pine from afar....
Wes: i dont--
Wes's friend: not accuse him of being the local ghost-fighting vigilante. Seriously, wes! His parents are ghost hunters!
Wes: i do not have a crush
Wes's friend: and ghosts aren't real! everyone knows that's a lie!
next up
Dan! Or Dante, but i'll call him Dan for the time being. Even if I dislike the name with a passion. Much like Wrath from my Childhood Friends au, Dan here is pretty different from his canon counterpart. Mostly because I wanted to experiment with Dan and different interpretations of him, and I thought; hey, where no better than an au where Danny has no powers?
so, dan? Dan is not a combination of Danny and Vlad's ghost halves -- now, don't get me wrong, danny still ends up under vlad's custody care after the death of his family, but he just doesn't fuse with Vlad's ghost.
So, what happened? What happened is that Vlad convinces a grieving Danny that he should let him make him a halfa (despite the fact that he has no idea how) because the he could go find his family in the ghost zone. Danny is in no mental state for any kind of experiments, but his hope and want to see his family and friends again gets him to agree.
It backfires. Vlad doesn't make Danny a halfa, he just ends up killing him completely. Danny comes back instantly as a ghost however, and enraged over being lied to, betrayed, and murdered, ends up killing Vlad in furious cold blood. He doesn't fuse with his ghost half, there's no ghost half to fuse with.
So a grieving ghost, Danny flees into the ghost zone. And, in this iteration, doesn't end up destroying the world. So how does TUE end up happening? Well, ten years later - with Danny remaining a forever 14 year old ghost - Dan ends up finding out about time travel. He finds out a way to travel back into the past, and he does.
So he can take over his past self's life. Danny just thinks he's fighting a weird doppleganger ghost, but ends up getting overshadowed. It's like being in a weird limbo, and Danny's not really sure what's happening - but his friends figure something out. After all, its been ten years since dan saw his friends, something has to give.
And that episode happens. Danny ends up meeting clockworth, beats Dan. But, well, it's not really happily ever after - somewhat. Ehh.. sorta. Danny's been traumatized by Dan's overshadowing - making him realize that despite everything, there are things ghosts can do that danny simply cannot and he needs to prepare for it. Onset paranoia, anyone?
Dan tells them his whole tragic backstory - there's a chance for redemption here, for him. For forgiveness. Not immediately, not yet, but its there. And he doesn't want to go back to the future - he's alone there. He's tired of being alone.
But he ends up being convinced - he needs to learn to look forward, not cling back. He can build himself up again, find new family. He doesn't have to be alone. So Dan goes back to the future.
"But come tell me if Vlad's giving you trouble --" and he smiles something wicked, "I'd be happy to handle him again"
and finally
not so much as any concrete thoughts as it is just me being emotional over Danny and Damian's brotherhood in this au and also Danny's hands. Again.
lIKE.. I put it in the tags of my reblog of my "danny's scarred hands' ficlet but im putting it here and its just?? Danny grabbing the blade of Damian's sword. Him grabbing the sword multiple times despite the fact that he knows it will hurt, that he will hurt himself. That he will keep hurting himself until Damian himself stops.
its just like??? whats it mean to spill your own blood just so that this little boy you've just met won’t have to ever again. he doesn't know any english and he is hurting you and yet you take him home and get him new clothes. he runs away and you go looking for him, every single time. you teach yourself arabic first so that you can converse with him.
this boy is a clone and so are you. you're a clone of his father he's a clone of your son - by nature of your existence this is your child. except its not your child, you don't have one, its just a little boy who happens to share the same dna as you. and you take him home and he becomes your little brother.
what's it mean when its you whose been hurt rather than him? whats it mean when you’d hurt yourself again just so that he can start to heal, so that he knows that he’s worth it? you cut your hands on his blade, catch its swing, just so this boy can know, can learn, that there’s someone who will bleed for him. that there's someone who will scar their hands just to make sure that you wont scar yours.
you’re a bleeding heart and its spilling out onto your palms. you take bloody fingers and wrap it around your little brother’s and say "its okay. it’s okay. you’re safe. no one will hurt you here. i promise. i wont let them. no one will hurt you so long as i'm around."
"put the sword down. i can show you how. let me show you how."
and damian in this au just reminds me of the song "eight" by sleeping at last. like?? the lYRICS. he is sO "eight" coded
'show me how to lay my sword down for long enough to let you through.' 'here i am. pry me open. what do you want to know?' 'im just a kid who grew up scared enough to hold the door shut and bury my innocence' 'but here's a map. here's a shovel. here's my achilles' heel. im all in palms out. im at your mercy now and im ready to begin. i am strong enough to let you in.'
Tumblr media
"by nature of our existence we are father and son, but by choice we are brothers. we are brothers we are brothers we are brothers. and i love you"
#dpxdc#dp x dc#dp x dc crossover#dpxdc crossover#dpdc#clone^2#danny fenton is not the ghost king#dp dc#dp dc crossover#dpxdc au#dpdc au#ITS JUST. THEM. IM SORRY BUT ITS THEM AND I LOVE THEM.#damian's guilt of hurting danny and the consistent conversations they have from that. danny always tells damian he forgives him.#'i hurt you' 'i know' 'im sorry' 'i know'#'one day i hope you forgive yourself just as much as i have forgiven you.' 'repeat after me: its not your fault'#'youre my brother and i hurt you and im sorry. i love you.'#i should get around to making a post about the batfam meeting them but i just!!! I love damian and danny i love their dynamic#and i know that i was the one who decided that its years before they meet the batfam after meeting each other but its still just a choice#that im stil so happy about because they become brothers! they meet the batfam and they're expecting baby damian to be like how damian was#when he arrived in the manor but he's not. he's not. he wears funny graphic tees and his older brother is bruce's clone and its so clear#that they love each other. bby dames steals his brother's flannels and gets chased around by him. and they roughhouse like brothers do#and his older brother is bruce's clone and he throws damian over his shoulders and calls him 'dames' and 'dami' and 'my boy' and its so#so obvious that this clone of bruce utterly adores damian.#and i had the idea before writing this that damian's first english word is 'star' and he turns to danny and calls him star when he wants#his attention for something. he points at him and says 'star' and he doesn't do that much anymore now that he knows english#but its one of the first signs of him trusting danny when he first arrived.
251 notes · View notes
chaotic-mystery · 8 months
Text
Atta Girl | J.M.
Tumblr media
Pairing: Joel Miller x plus size f!reader
Synopsis: Joel loves your body just as much as you do and shows you how much he can’t get enough of you.
Content Warnings: SMUT 18+ minors dni! Porn with very little plot, reader is plus size & hardly insecure but has a moment where she asks if Joel is sure he wants her to ride his face, face riding, Joel squeezes you everywhere, praise, a little degrading if you squint at the end, spanking, light choking, Joel telling you what to do, dirty talk, pet names (baby doll, bunny, etc) pull out method to make you a toaster strudel hehe, Joel calls himself daddy like one time, oral (f receiving) unprotected sex, readers hair is long enough to pull. Let me know if I missed anything!
Word Count: 1.9K || A/N: I just want all my plus sized babies to know they are beautiful and Joel Miller would fuck you so hard he’d leave whipped and wanting more. This was a request I received and as a plus sized girl myself, I wanna see more positive stories about the reader already loving her body. I’m nervous posting this, but fuck it here we go!
Splitting wood for the fireplace wasn’t something you enjoyed whenever it needed to be done. Joel wasn’t around since he was on patrol duty and wasn’t sure if he’d be back before the sun went down behind the mountains in Jackson, meaning it was in fact your turn to chop wood. Not wanting to get any of your shirts dirty with mud, you thought it would be a great idea to wear one of his many flannels. Now, they didn’t hang off your body and that was okay, he actually enjoyed the way you’d tie the material up about halfway over your tummy, letting your breasts push together just a tad by the knot.
That’s how you ended up in the back of your shared cabin with Joel, sweat coating your forehead and your chest glistening in the late evening sun. Grunting with every split of wood and a chunk flying off the stump, you were almost to the end of the pile when the small screen door attached to the porch swung open, your worn out and starved man coming outside into the yard. Joel's hands went to his hips and his head dropped as he chuckled, looking back up at you. “The hell are ya doin’ sweet girl? I told you I was gonna do this when I got back from patrollin’.” His face slightly changed when he noticed his shirt tied up and pushing your breasts together just enough for him to forget how to speak.
Holding the axe in one hand and brushing off your dirt stained hands onto your jeans that were hugging your hips deliciously, you shook your head quickly and looked back at him as if he said something completely crazy. “No, no I’m more than capable of chopping wood for our fireplace in our house, Joel. It’s not a big deal, it’s just another shirt you lose.” You poke fun at him as you squat down to gather the pieces when you could hear the faintest groan from Joel behind you.
His head was spinning and landed in dark waters that flooded his mind with vile and unholy thoughts about you. He was watching your jeans get tighter around your ass as you squatted down, they were almost becoming a second skin to you. Those were the jeans he loved to see you in because they hugged your curves in all the places he loved the most- everywhere.
“If you stare any harder you’re going to burn holes into my ass, Joel.” You snark and stack up a few pieces of wood in your arms to start heading to the screen door. He snaps out of the trance your plump ass had him in and makes it to the door before you and holds it open, allowing you to walk in before him. He wanted more time to watch your hips swing with every step you take but also he was a southern gentleman at heart, so holding doors open for you wasn’t out of the ordinary.
“Baby I’m sorry I jus’ can’t help it. You’re so sexy and I just can't can’t stop staring at the way your jeans fit ya. The way your shirt rides up and shows off your back a lil bit.” He whispered into your ear as you stood still for a second, his hands grabbing your plush hips, thumbs brushing over the soft skin that was peeking under the shirt that was riding up. A smirk plastered on your face, you continued on your way to the fireplace that was empty of wood and got down on all fours, starting to toss wood into the hole. Right on queue, Joel leans against the wall of the living room, watching your ass rock back and forth as the pile next to you dwindles down rapidly. The way your thighs pressed against each other like perfect puzzle pieces had his jeans getting tighter and tighter, his cock getting harder with every second passing by. Your breasts were practically spilling from your tank top with you bent over, a true sight for Joel to remember the next time he needed something to think about when he was alone. With no words spoken, Joel walks over towards you and kneels behind you and runs his hands over the curve of your ass, grunting slowly.
“You’re so beautiful, jus’ wanna pin you down right here and make you feel so good, honey.” His words shoot tingles all the way down your back and before you knew it, you were arching your back a little more, wiggling your ass in front of him.
“Who, me?” You innocently ask, tossing the rest of the wood inside the fireplace. Joel’s hands grab your hair gently and give a little tug, nudging you to stand up on your knees. One of his hands wraps around your stomach to hold you close, squeezing you against him. “Yes, you. Want ya to plant this beautiful pussy on my face and don’t stop ridin’ until I can’t breathe.” “Are you sure about that cowboy? I’ll do it, I just don’t wanna hurt you.” He scoffed and grabbed your squishy cheeks, pinching them together.
“Stop that right now, you hear me? There’s no way you could hurt me. Now, take off your fuckin’ jeans and panties and put your pussy on my face.” You hastily get out of your jeans and panties, tossing them over by the corner and Joel wiped his face in complete awe, your curves on full display for him to scan over closely. “I can almost taste you already baby doll, fuck.” Joel rips off his shirt and lays on the couch, resting his head right on the arm rest. “Climb up here and get comfy, darlin’. I’m not stoppin’ until you’re beggin’ me to stop.” He pats the cushion on the side of his head and grins like he won the lottery and to him he did. He was about to have his way with you and tear you apart. You crawl over to the couch and kiss his side, making your way up his chest messily and to his lips, his firm hands grabbing your round face to hold you closer. “Cmon now I’m not gettin’ any younger and I’m starvin.” He growls and yanks you from the floor, giving your ass a good smack, feeling it jiggle under his hand. With his help you climb up and hover over his face, nervous to rest your full weight on him. His strong arms wrap around your thick thighs and pull you down onto him, his lips connecting to your clit instantly. His tongue licked up your juices and twirled circles around your bud, his eyes shutting in bliss. Your fingers tugged at the salt and peppered hair under you and your back arched deeply, moaning his name breathlessly. “Joel oh my god, fuck that’s so damn good, don’t stop.” Reaching behind your back, you unclasped your bra and ditched his shirt, letting your breasts fall from the fabric and into your hands. He was humming under you as he moved his face from side to side, still licking and sucking on your clit. Your hips move back and forth on his face, his grip tightening around your thighs, bringing out your whimpers from deep inside you. “Atta girl, ride my face like that.” His words vibrate against your pussy and you grind against his face faster, just on the brink of cumming. Before you could let go on his face, he pulled you down off the back of the couch and took off his pants and boxers, bending you over the armrest of the couch his head was just on. Joel’s hand collides with your plump ass once more before he spreads your cheeks apart, burying his cock inside your hole with a throaty groan. You cry out his name and hang your head, his hands coming around and grabbing handfuls of your breasts. He squeezes tightly as he begins to thrust in and out, moaning how good you feel wrapped around him. Joel pushes down on the middle of your back and runs his hand up your side, “Bet you like that huh, my cock deep inside you poundin’ away so hard it makes you think about nothin’ but my hips smackin’ against your perfect ass.” He grabs a handful of your ass cheek and groans out your name once more. “Fuck yeah I do, baby. I love the way you tear me up from the inside out and make me so dick dumb and fucked out, all that’s on my mind is being a slut for you.” Your filthy mouth gets him going once more, drawing out more moans from him than before. His arms wrap around your soft tummy and flip you over, laying you down gently on your back against the couch cushions. You reach down and grab his cock, shoving it deep inside you once more so he can start fucking you again. Joel smirks at your eagerness and licks his lips quickly just at the mere sight of you shoving yourself full of his cock.
“Such an eager lil thing huh? Can’t wait a few seconds f’me to do it, you gotta do it yourself?” “I love the way you feel inside me Joel, can’t get enough of you. Fuck, please don’t stop.”
Joel’s warm hand presses down on your velvety abdomen, keeping you right where he wanted you. He leans down and presses his face against your supple breast, flicking his tongue over the nipple while he thrusts harder inside you, trying to get you to beg for him to slow down. His free hand moves to your other nipple and pinches it a few times before grabbing the entire pillowy breast, squishing it in his hand. “Fuck- bunny I’m not gonna last much longer, not with your body lookin’ so damn good the way it does. You’re squeezin’ around my cock and you know that drives me up the fuckin’ wall.” He grunts against the shell of your ear and nuzzles his face into your neck, his hair brushing against your cheek. As your face contorts with pleasure, you can feel yourself about to cum all over his cock. “Yeahhh jus’ like that for me sweet girl, cum on daddy’s cock like a good girl, I can feel it. Jus’ let go all over me baby.” He pants into your neck and grabs your hair as your legs shake, cumming all over him. Your screams of his name and curse words echo throughout the living room and you swear your neighbors could hear you loud and clear. Joel’s thrusts were becoming sloppy, indicating he wasn’t going to last much longer. Sitting up slowly, he pulls out from your tight entrance and cums all over your tummy, groaning everything under the sun that he could think of. As he milked himself empty on you, you giggled at the pool of cum dribbling down your sides. Joel throws his head back trying to catch his breath as he sits down in the seat next to you, his eyes still closed from the euphoria of unloading all over his girl. “Jus’ give me a second and I’ll get a rag to clean you up and getcha some water baby. Fuck, you are somethin’ else.” he joked and kissed the top of your hand tiredly.
631 notes · View notes
inoreuct · 6 months
Note
What if, in some circumstances which I cannot even think of, Sanji cannot cook himself and has to tell Zoro what to do.
And Zoro's sword skills are NOT equal to his knife skills 😭
Sanji also would use fancy chef vocabulary to give commands like "now sauté those onions until they're godlen-brown" or something and Zoro's like da fuck's a co-lander. why would you need like 5 different pans.
BADABING BADABOOM HERE YOU GO REG MY DEAR technically pre-rs but they act like they’ve been married decades. ANYWAYS enjoy 🤭🤭
Zoro swore as the knife slipped again, skidding flat against the chopping board with a dull scrape that made him wince. 
In hindsight, this was all the stupid cook’s fault. Bastard just had to go and break his arm; Sanji had tried to do things one-handed for a while before he’d evidently gotten fed up and stuck his head out the galley door to scream for Zoro to help with lunch at top volume, apparently under the assumption that since Zoro was a master swordsman he’d be able to handle knives.
And by all rights, he should. He was the demon pirate hunter. He carried his best friend’s dream like a talisman in his pocket. He wasn’t going to let himself be bested by a fucking vegetables and a knife.
But Zoro was quite certain that barring his sense of direction, he had never been quite this bad at anything in his entire existence. 
The garlic had been miniscule, the celery had been too fucking slippery, the onions had made his eyes burn, and now this stupid carrot kept trying to run away from him. He could handle rough chops, sure; but when Sanji was being all picky about— 
“I said medium dice, marimo, not mutilate.”
“I don’t know what that fucking means, shithead,” Zoro gritted, not even bothering to turn around where Sanji was sitting at the dining table. He re-aligned the knife and felt inexplicably betrayed when it slipped again, slicing diagonally into the carrot. It was a miracle he hadn’t taken off a finger yet. 
He felt stupid. Awkward and useless and out of his element, it was just cooking, for fuck’s sake—
“Marimo.” 
“What,” he snapped, fingers tightening around a wooden handle. Sanji’s tone had gone soft around the edges and it rankled him, made him feel irrationally angry like a tiger pacing around in its cage, trapped and seething—
“This one’s on me,” Sanji murmured, coming around to hover by his side, something Zoro couldn’t identify in the set of his face. “Shouldn’t have assumed that you’d be good with knives just because you’re good with swords.”
The words sent a wave of panic through Zoro, stomach dropping fast enough that he ran his mouth. A need to please he hadn’t felt since he was a child. Desperation not to disappoint. “Shut the fuck up, I am, I just—” He snapped his jaw shut, pressing his teeth together hard. “Just… Give me a minute to figure it out.”
“You’re already doing better than I was, when I started,” Sanji said lightly, hair falling across his face as he tipped his head. 
“You were a child,” he ground out. The knife clattered as he put it down to shake out his hands. “S’not saying much.” 
The cook hummed, strangely gentle. “Still. It’s alright—”
“I don’t want your pity.”
And, oh. That’s what it was, wasn’t it? Pity. Zoro felt like a dumb kid again, and it was so much worse because it was Sanji. And he didn’t want to think about the implications of that, so he sneered, “Don’t look down on me, shitty cook. You and your fancy-ass cooking terms and your hundred and one pans and—”
Sanji cut him off with a bark of a laugh, tossing his head back. His left arm was immobilised in a sling, tucked close to his body as he moved behind Zoro and reached around him to pick the knife up again. “Your brains must really be full of moss if you think I’m looking down on you. Come on.” He offered Zoro the handle, and the swordsman didn’t need to look to know that Sanji was smiling over his shoulder. “One last try.”
He worked his jaw for a second, and huffed through his nose. “I fucking swear, curly, if I get cut—”
“You won’t,” Sanji replied, resolute as he watched Zoro take the knife. 
“How do you know?”
“Because you’re not stupid and I’m not careless, especially not with you.” 
The last part had been a little quieter, riding on a rushed breath, and Zoro eyed the cook pensively as slender fingers wrapped around his hand.
“Here. Like this.” 
With Sanji’s help, he cut the carrot into lengthwise sticks and then neat cubes, chopping up a few more before dumping the whole lot into a bowl with most of what he’d already cut. Sanji shifted away, poking a chopstick into the oil he’d left to heat.
“See the bubbles?” he murmured, peering down into the pot. “That’s how you check if it’s hot enough.” He twisted one of the knobs down before grabbing the vegetables and dumping them in, shifting the pieces around with a wooden spatula as they sizzled gently. “This is a mirepoix,” he said, pronouncing it meer-pwah. “It forms the flavour base of a lot of dishes. The aim is to use low heat, cook it down really slow— so that it doesn’t burn and you bring out the sweetness.” 
He was speaking softly enough that it could have been to himself, but the commentary was obviously for Zoro’s benefit, and Zoro. Did not like how that was making him feel at all. 
They were quiet for a while as Sanji did his thing, and the swordsman crossed his arms as he leaned his hip against the counter. The sun filtering in through the window was lighting Sanji’s hair up gold, washing his features in a subtle glow that emphasised the softness of his expression, relaxed and so entirely in his element that it made Zoro’s chest ache. Made something press up beneath his lungs, made it hard to breathe, and it ached.
Impervious to his inner turmoil, Sanji continued, stirring frequently as the galley started to smell really good. “When the onion turns translucent, that’s the sweet spot—” The chopped (more mushed, if Zoro was inclined to be honest) garlic from earlier went in with a vicious sizzle, then a few dashes of different sauces and a good pour of chicken stock. “Could you get the black pepper?” 
Zoro grunted, grabbing the grinder from the corner and putting a few good cracks into the pot as Sanji added salt, stirred one last time, and propped the lid on partway. “That’s it?” 
“That’s it,” Sanji confirmed, smirking, but not unkindly. “Once that simmers down it’ll be our soup, and I’ll just have to cook some noodles. I was planning for mussels in a garlic butter white wine reduction and seared scallops with this delicious spiced pomegranate and herb glaze, but— I think that might have killed you.” Something must have shown on Zoro’s face, because the cook laughed, bright and easy. “You did good, marimo, all things considered. I’d probably be horrid at sword fighting. We’re even.”
Zoro scowled, fighting back against the spark that flared in the depths of his chest at that thought. Sparring with Sanji, in his element, giving the cook shit for it but also helping. Teaching. “Hurry up and get better, and we’ll see.” 
Sanji groaned, rolling his eyes even as he chuckled. “You’re gonna kick my ass, aren’t you.”
Maybe. But even more than that… He thought about how Sanji had held his hand over the knife, patient but not condescending even though he could have been, the skin of his wrist cool against Zoro’s forearm. The look on his he face as he did what he loved and the way it had made something warm bloom behind Zoro’s sternum. The swordsman let his teeth peek in a lazy grin as his chin tipped up; an entire challenge. Half of the bite. “We’ll see.”
fin.
170 notes · View notes
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media
Let Me Help
If you could only use one word to describe your husband, it would be, stubborn. Whether you tried paying for dinner or driving his truck, he wouldn’t budge on his decision and it was like pulling teeth to convince him otherwise. In your current case, he had come down with a cold and refused to accept any kind of care. It’s like if he pretended he wasn’t sick, it would just magically disappear.
It had apparently even affected his work as you received texts from both Tony and even Vance that he was grumpier than usual, snapping orders and having unrealistic expectations for case leads. You figured if Jethro wanted to be a stubborn mule then let him. Because now you also had to deal with your 8 year old son showing the same symptoms of sickness.
The nurse had called you, explaining that he was complaining about his head and runny nose so you picked him up early and stopped at the grocery store for supplies before heading home.
Multitasking, you prepared what you needed for some homemade chicken noodle soup and got a hot bath started for him, adding some tea tree oil, hoping the steam would help with his congestion. Once he was all set in the tub, you left the door open so you could hear him and continued chopping vegetables in the kitchen. He was in the phase where he really valued his privacy and you helping him take a bath was always shot down, followed by I’m a big boy now mom as he would stand there in his Lego shirt and bear slippers.
The sound of the front door opening and keys being thrown on the little table nearby, signaled that Jethro was home early. He didn’t say a word but said plenty as he trudged over to the couch and fell face first into it. You couldn’t help but smile at his theatrics and continued your cooking.
“Vance send you home early?”
“Mm-hm.”
He rolled onto his back and let out a long sigh, rubbing his temples to relieve some of the headache he told you he didn’t have. Once all your ingredients were prepped and cooking in the pan, you poured the broth in and let it sit in a simmer before heading to the bathroom in search of aspirin, being sure to cover your eyes so your son didn’t yell at you.
Your husband was still laying on the couch when you came over with a glass of water and some aspirin.
“Take these. I’m making some soup as well,” you offered.
He sat up and took the offerings with a grateful grunt.
“Mommy! I’m done!”
You gave Jethro a kiss on the head before tending to your son again.
————
The soup was a hit with both boys, each having 2 servings and now they sat on the couch under a big thick blanket as you handed them each a capful of medicine.
“I don’t wanna,” your son refused, pulling his brows together in discontent and crossing his arms in extra emphasis.
“I don’t wanna do it either bud but it’ll make us feel better. Ready? On three.”
You watched as they swallowed the tart syrup and made the same exact face, causing you to laugh. They handed you over the empty caps and you brought them into the kitchen to wash them. Just then, the microwave went off, telling you the popcorn was ready.
Pouring it into a big bowl, you took your spot in between them on the couch. They each rested their heads against your shoulder and took turns taking pieces of popcorn while the movie played.
“How’s your head my love?” you asked Jethro, running your hand through his hair, massaging into his scalp and temple.
“Mm. Good.”
You then turned to your little boy and brushed his dirty blonde hair from his face as you could already see his blue eyes getting sleepy.
It was a rare opportunity you got to be able to take care of Jethro and your son at the same time. And as much as it was a bit trying at times with both of their stubborn yet needy ways, you wouldn’t trade it for anything.
79 notes · View notes
ideas-4-stories · 2 months
Note
Cross-Guild romance fic idea: Buggy is secretly a vampire who can shape shift so no one is suspicious when an 'orphaned' blue haired and red nose child shows up every couple of centuries. At Cross Guild Buggy is slowly coming to his whits end with Crocodile constantly being mean, while Mihawk just doesn't give a shit about anything really. He lets them beat him up so that he can maintain his cover as a cowardly clown. One night though, Crocodile and Mihawk corner Buggy regarding some business matter and Crocodile says something really hurtful that just makes Buggy snap. Next thing Crocodile knows, he's got fangs sinking into his neck as Buggy drinks from him and leaves him floating in a daze. When Mihawk tries to intervene, Buggy avoids his blade with his chop chop powers and then he's on Mihawk, sinking his fangs into the swordsman too. Pissed and really liking the taste of both of his lieutenants, Buggy carries them off to his quarters and then proceeds to have his wicked way with them, being the most powerful bottom either of them have every experienced. By the time the three of them actually regain some semblance of sense, Buggy is super mortified thinking Mihawk and Crocodile are gonna hate him, only for the two of them to be hooked on him, completely enthralled by his power, and genuinely wanting to be with him because yeah, he was like raging frightening beast when he screwed himself on them both, but he also took all care of them and loved them in between. They got a taste of something truly special, and they mean to keep him.
Power Bottom!Buggy, Holy stars
Sorry this took a while, I got sick and wasn't really feeling up to respond to asks. I am still sick but going back to responding to this great asks 👍
I love how Buggy can shapeshift! Coming back to being a child after every couple decades is cool! I'm thinking Everytime was a different personality in a way... maybe. Like he is performing for his own amusement... or maybe like it's something like he makes himself forget until a certain age that he gets his memories back so he can live a childhood with seemingly being more mature than he should be or something like that (working on it)
Love how Buggy is performing to be a cowardly clown captain. That clown is much a theater kid that kept their acting skills and got really good at it. Of course, it's Crocodile and Mihawk that makes him snap, probably he was getting hungry and couldn't find any food. So he was already having a bad time, then Mihawk and Crocodile comes around being assholes
I'm wondering how Buggy carries Crocodile and Mihawk 🤔 Does Buggy carries them over his shoulders or carries them like barrels?
Damn I want to read this as a fic
69 notes · View notes
rogersideup · 10 months
Text
Nice to be Kneaded
Tumblr media
Chapter 6:
Sunflower
Series Masterlist
previous part: Absdoughlutely next part: Beautifully Natured
Word Count: 5,150
Warnings: My blog is 18+ only. All minors or blogs without an age in bio will be blocked. Minors DNI. Descriptions of injuries, mentions of blood, anxiety, and domestic abuse.
Tumblr media
"Hello!" Your favorite voice bounced off the walls all throughout the quiet and empty bakery after the sound of the bells above the door chimed.
"Hey, honey! I'm in the kitchen!" You called out, a sickeningly delightful smile smeared across your face as you could hear his foot steps quickly approaching.
Since you we're facing away from the doorway, busy peeling and chopping apples on the big stainless steel countertops, you felt him before you saw him.
Steve's big arms engulfed you from behind as he peeped at what you were up to from above your head. "What's cookin' good lookin'?"
You laughed at his question before setting the big, freshly sharpened knife on the cutting board and ripping off your vinyl gloves. "Well for now it's just apples, but hopefully in an hour or two it'll be a whole tray of apple crisp bars ready to go for morning rush."
"Well it already looks delicious" He commented with a lopsided grin as you tossed the gloves into the trash for an opportunity to give him a proper hug.
You wrapped your arms around each other and lingered there for longer than an average hug, but who could blame you when he smelled so nice and held you so close and snug against his built chest. "They're just green apples, Honey"
"I love green apples" He stated as a matter of fact.
"Well today is your lucky day, because we have far too many so eat away" You released Steve from the hug and finally got to admire him.
It seemed as though every t-shirt he owned was one wrong move away from bursting at the seams, all while his legs just went on for miles and miles an-
"Soooooo, how can I help?" He asked, running his hand through his hair to pull it off his face.
"However you want" You smiled knowing that was his favorite answer.
If there was nothing blatantly obvious that needed to be done, he always found tasks that he loved to do. From organizing the cookie cutter bins by category in alphabetical order, to rearranging all the spools of ribbon on the long hanger to be in order of the color wheel, he always did it with a smile on his face.
At first you found it a little unnerving as if he felt pressured into needing to do something rather than just hang out with you, but after a few weeks of insisting, you finally understood he really did enjoy keeping busy any way he could. Anything that could occupy his hands and mind kept him one step closer to sanity.
"Ohh!" He lit up. "Can I finally fix that light in the bake case?"
He's quite literally been begging to fix it ever since he noticed one of the tiny lights in the bake case had been out. It wasn't enough for a customer to notice, nor was it a dire issue so it kept getting pushed to the back burner. It also wasn't as simple as just replacing the bulb, there were screws and wires and some weird metal pieces attached to weird plastic pieces...
"Be my guest, I know that would make you so happy"
"Just think of how beautiful your apple crisps will be in the morning under all of the lights, rather than all of the lights except for that one that's been out for weeks!"
"What would I ever do without you, Stevie?" You giggled as you snapped on a new pair of gloves to continue your apple chopping. "The bake case would be so dull... much as every passing day"
"Ugh, you're so lucky to have me." He joked with a sigh. "Screw driver?"
"Tool box is in the supply closet, very top shelf, back left corner." Your smile prevailed. "Did you lock the door?"
"Yes ma'am, and closed the blinds."
"Wow, at this point you're my best employee."
"And don't you forget it" Steve threw you a casual wink before disappearing into the lobby.
The light was an easy 15 minute fix, well, it would've been about five had he not lost a screw that took 10 minutes to find but he would never admit that. As he was finishing up, he heard what was almost a hissing sound coming from you in the kitchen, followed by clanking as if something had been dropped onto the metal countertops.
The sounds piqued Steve's concern, so he closed the case back up. But as he was walking back to the kitchen, he heard your little voice call out to him.
"Steve?" It was shaky and scared, something he had never heard from you before. Needless to say his walking pace turned into a jog, and when he made it through the doorway he saw you holding your hand in the other.
Your face was white as a ghost and your eyes were spacey, but the closer he got he noticed you were squeezing a bunched up paper towel to your hand and slowly swaying. He looked over to your apples to see a red puddle and the knife where it shouldn't be.
He recognized that glossy facial expression, he had seen it millions of times before on battlefield and training rooms. So he offered you a comforting smile as he approached to keep a hand on you. If you were about to pass out, he would be there to catch you.
"I um..." You started, but you couldn't quite get the words out without your internalized panic becoming very, very external. "Was cutting- then the knife slipped and I...caught it..."
"Are you okay?" He rubbed your arm as all his extensive first aid training from his days as an Avenger came flooding back to him.
"Bleeding" You stated, blinking your eyes as fuzzy darkness started to overtake your vision in invasive swirls. "A lot."
"Feelin' dizzy?" He questioned gently.
"Very." You nodded.
"Alright sweet girl, let's get you sitting down." He encouraged. You took one wobbly step before Steve stopped you in your tracks. There was no way you were going to make it to a chair by the will of your own two feet. "Okay I'm just going to pick you up."
You nodded in agreement and he swooped you into his arms like a rag-doll. You didn't even feel the need to hang on in case he dropped you, you just focused on keeping firm pressure on your hand as he took you to the front and set you down on a padded booth.
"Can I see it?" Steve questioned as he squat down in front of you. Once again you nodded and slowly pulled the paper towel away from your hand to reveal a nice slice right in the cushioned part of your palm beneath your thumb.
He inspected it the best he could but there was too much blood to even see what was going on beneath it, and when you curiously took a peak at your own hand, the black fuzzies invaded more of your vision.
"I think- I think I'm going to pass out." You mumbled.
Steve's eyes met yours in an instant when you admitted that, and he saw your ghostly white complexion had turned into bright pink cheeks and your head barely standing still. He pressed the paper towel back into your palm to block your injury from your eyesight.
"It's okay, lay down. Deep breaths." He reminded you, and assisted you on a slow and careful journey downwards on the booth. He reached over and grabbed a throw pillow from one of the lounge chairs and slipped it under your head. "Where's the first aid kit?"
"B-bathroom." You mumbled.
"Keep putting pressure on this, I'll be right back." He told you, guiding one of your hands to the other so you could firmly press them together.
You tried your best to stay awake even though you had to fight through the tunneled ringing in your ears and you lack of ability to see anything beyond the dizziness. However, you did hear his feet moving quickly around the store and the hand washing sink running.
Less than a minute later he was back and sitting on the floor in front of you, and setting down everything he had grabbed. You looked down to see him snapping on some gloves that barely fit his big hands, along with a whole roll of paper towels and both first aid kits. The calm expression on his face reminded you of exactly who he was, and what he did for most of the years of his life before he even met you.
"Here, take a few sips of water." He instructed you, cracking open a cold plastic bottle he took from the drink fridge. You did as you were told before placing the cold bottle against your hot cheeks as he sandwiched your injured hand between his two. "I'm going to see what I can do with what I have here, okay?"
"Do I need stitches?" You asked.
"I don't know yet, but I'll try my best to avoid that." He grinned before pulling the bloody paper towel off your hand. "Did you wash this already?"
"Ran it under water" You sucked in a breath as you felt gushes of thick warm liquid as he left it uncovered. Having not learned your lesson the first time, you looked again. "Oh my god..."
"Don't look at your hand, look at me." He advised you as he wiped away at the blood. It really wasn't stopping or slowing down at all, so he sandwiched your hand between his again and held it with firm pressure from both sides. "We're just going to hold hands for a while."
His reassuring smile as his eyes met yours made you feel like you could breathe again. "Well this is nice."
"Walk in the park" He agreed. "Does it hurt or can I squeeze harder?"
"Harder is okay" You agreed, so he did. It was just enough to feel your hand throbbing in his hold but not enough to cause more pain than you were already in.
"So, how was your day?" He questioned nonchalantly, trying to pull your mind away from your hand in attempts to calm you down. Plus he knew he needed a good amount of pressure to stay there for a little while.
"It was fine-busy." You answered shortly wanting to cut to the chase. "You're like, medically trained? You can give me stitches?"
"I'm trained enough to stop bullet wounds from bleeding out, and I've given stitches more times than I even remember." He reassured you. "But I have nothing here to work with, and I don't know enough to medically decide what kind of stitches would be best for this. If you need them, the best hands to be in will be a doctor's" He explained.
"Does it hurt?"
You worried eyes were killing him, but setting realistic expectations for what was to come seemed to be the best way you knew how to deal with your own fears, so he was happy to answer. "Another benefit of a doctor is that they'll numb you before. A few little shots around your hand and you'll barely feel a thing. It definitely doesn't hurt more than catching a falling knife."
You nodded with a gulp before an anxious, almost guilty admission slipped past your lips. "I'm really scared of the hospital. I know that probably sounds stupid to you but-"
"That's not stupid." He shook his head. "Most people only find themselves in a hospital when a bad thing happened to them or someone they loved. It's easy to be scared of a place like that."
"I'd rather you sew my hand together with a needle and thread and no pain killers then have a panic attack by myself in the emergency room." You continued to express your fears.
It was apparent to him now that the panic in your voice wasn't necessarily over the injury itself, but the thought of having to seek medical treatment. His first words without much thought would've been 'you won't be alone, I'll go with you', but you were smarter and more thoughtful than him. Stepping into a hospital with cameras around every square inch of the building and high security would be like locking himself in a cell.
You could see his wheels turning, trying desperately to find a solution to ease your mind before he let go of the pressure on your hand to check in on the cut. "It does actually seem to be slowing down a bit, but it looks pretty deep. Even if it closes on its own it's going to keep ripping open." He sighed.
You could tell he was contemplating the most morally correct option. He could do this himself and it would be fine, or he could encourage you to seek medical help and you'd have a not so fun night in the emergency room by yourself.
"Please" You pleaded, tears pooling in your lash line. "Georgia hates me, I have no family here, and I don't feel comfortable going with any of my other friends. We both know you can't step foot into a hospital."
"Can I ask what exactly you're afraid of?" Steve questioned gently, one of his hands still squeezing yours while the other rubbed up and down your arm to try and comfort you.
"I had a lot of really bad nights by myself at Greenwood medical." You started, unsure of how much you actually wanted to confess because you hated the way people looked at you when they found out. But Steve, maybe he would be different. Maybe he wouldn't look at you that way. "My ex-boyfriend he... wasn't very nice. And going there just reminds me of all of those times I was there alone because of him and I just- I can't go there."
His eyes softened, and his eyebrows tried hard to hide his inward emotion but he was still sympathetic. There was not much detail, but he got it now. He was done asking questions until you were ready to tell him more, and he was going to make sure you didn't have to step one single foot anywhere alone tonight.
"I'm sorry you had to go through that." He sympathized, still rubbing your arm. "I have a lot of first aid supplies at home, I think I can make it work. I have a few things we can try before I sew it up, but just in case I do have a sterile needle."
You quickly nodded, accepting his offer to play doctor for you. "I'll just clean up the kitchen really quick-"
"No" He giggled as you started sitting up. "You stay here and keep putting pressure on it , I'll clean up the kitchen then take you to my house."
"I'll be fine" you insisted, but as you fully sat up a whole new wave of dizziness hit you once more.
"Just stay here." He smiled, wrapping your hand up with lots of gauze and tying cotton wrap around it as tightly as he could. "I'll be right back."
He disappeared through the kitchen door way, leaving you to lean your head back against the wall and take in some deep breaths to calm yourself down. You could hear the fridge opening and closing, the three compartment sink running, and the contents of the sanitizer bucket being dumped out before he came back to you.
He handled you with such tenderness and care as he helped get you into the car and back to his place. You didn't really even have a chance to process the new environment you were in as he urgently rushed you up the stairs and sat you on top of the en suite bathroom counter with your hand dripping blood over the sink.
He started rummaging through the cabinet and advising you to look away once more before he snapped on a new pair of gloves and aided the best way he knew he could.
Through the whole ordeal he told you exactly what he was doing before he did it, let you squeeze his hand as he sanitized it as you both knew the stinging was going to hurt like hell, then at the very end he was just as happy as you were that a bit of super glue and some butterfly closure bandages saved you from that sterile needle he told you about.
When all was said and done, it was nearing 10pm and he could just see the emotional and physical exhaustion dripping off of you. So the second the final wrapping was secured on you hand and he knew you were on the road to a smooth recovery, he gently raised the back of it to his mouth and gave it an exaggerated kiss just to make you smile.
"All better?" He asked, your eyes opening to look at him when you felt his mustache tickle your skin.
"Thank you, Doctor Rogers" You softly smiled, not having much energy left. "Your services are greatly appreciated."
"It's easy to be a great doctor when you have a great patient" He admitted. "I'm sorry, I know that hurt. On a scale of one to ten, how much of an asshole do you think I am now?"
"Zero" Your smile stretched beyond what you thought was possible. "Far less painful than the alternative."
"Good, that's all I could've hoped for." He let go of your hand. "Are you okay?"
Though the question was played off as surface level, you knew what he was really asking. Instead of answering the question with a lie, or forcing yourself into the emotional intimacy of telling the truth, you simply stuck your arms out for a hug.
He didn't hesitate to step between your legs and let you lean forward onto him before he protectively wrapped his arms around you.
The two of you stayed there for a while, but he didn't mind one bit. He ate up every second of it considering human contact in the past year of his life was few and far in between before meeting you.
"Why do you have so much first aid?" You questioned with your chin resting on his shoulder, arms happily keeping him close.
"Nat, Wanda, Sam... they all know exactly where I am. If they need a place to hide away I just want to be prepared." He explained. "Just in case something happens."
"You're a good man, Steve." You told him confidently. Somehow, talking about your hard realities felt easier like this. Being so close yet not having to see the worried facial expressions of each other as you talk about it. "Does Tony know?"
"Yeah" his voice broke, almost as if he was whispering. "He knows Bucky is in Wakanda too. He knows I broke everyone out of the raft, and didn't do anything about it when he got the call. Even if he hates me, I think there's a part of him that understands why I had to do what I did."
"How is Bucky doing?" You questioned.
"They cured him" Steve told you. "I got to talk to him yesterday. He's doing good, but even though the winter soldier is gone he has a lot of healing to do."
"Does it make you happy when you get to talk to them?" You asked knowing how much guilt he held onto.
"It does, I get a lot of peace of mind. It seems like everyone is making the time to work on themselves. Do things they've always wanted to do but haven't gotten to yet because avenging got in the way." He explained as he relaxed into you once more.
With each honest answer, you found yourself wanting to be more honest with him too.
"How about you?"
"I'm doing better. I slept through the night last night- anxiety levels are starting to creep down. I feel like I'm starting to accept that Captain America isn't who I am anymore, and that's okay." His answer sounded genuine to you. "So, I ask you again. Are you okay?"
"I wasn't." You confessed. "For a very long time, I was in a very bad place. I thought I was doomed to a lifetime of never being able to move on from how he hurt me. But I got there, and I'm doing a lot better. It's just sometimes things happen that remind me of how bad it really was, and it makes me panic out of fear of feeling how I used to. But I'm okay now."
"Where is he now?" Steve tightened his grip on you, nestling the side of his head into yours.
“Arizona"
"Do you want me to drive to Arizona and cut off his dick?" Steve offered, earning a heavenly laugh from you.
"It's okay, all that drive time isn't worth three inches." You smiled.
He laughed right in your ear before letting out a sigh. "You're right, three inches is more embarrassing than nothing at all."
You slowly let go of him and leaned back against the mirror, though Steve didn't feel ready to stop touching you yet so his hands make their way to the sides of your thighs.
"You're so sleepy" He grinned, being unable to hide how adorable he truly thought it was.
"I've been up since 4 this morning, of course I'm sleepy." You agreed.
"I'm mad at you, by the way." He stated with a sigh, mischievously raising an eyebrow.
"Oh yeah? What'd I do?" You questioned, hyper-aware of his warm hands squeezing your legs.
"You make me enjoy your company so much that no matter how much time we spend together it's never enough." Steve explained. "And when you leave? I miss you. Why did you do that to me?"
"M'sorry." You apologized disingenuously. "What are you going to do about it? Call the police?"
"Mhm, report you for harboring a fugitive." He joked.
"How dare you?" Your eyebrows playfully furrowed and your lips tugged upwards. "Then what would happen to my stupidity handsome fugitive? I'm pretty sure he survives off of chocolate chips and almond croissants. He'd wither away without the bakery"
"He'd have to run far, far away. Find a new bakery in a different town and cry over how lame the almond croissants are compared to yours."
"How do I keep you from dialing 911?" You asked. "How could I possibly spare you from a dull life full of mediocre pastry?"
"It's simple, just stop making me miss you so much." He shrugged.
"I think that's something you'll have to work on within yourself, sweet cheeks."
"Bucky did always say I have quite the knack for becoming far too attached to the people around me." Steve explained. "But this? This was never supposed to happen. Not when I told myself I wouldn't trust anyone until I could figure out how to absolve my criminal status."
"Well told myself I'd never let another man sneak his way into my heart, but here we are." You shrugged, cheeks warming at your own words.
"Is that what's happening?" Steve asked.
"We're either living in a cloudy bubble of naïveté, or maybe we were both supposed to end up right here, right now." You sleepily let your thoughts spew out of your mouth.
You watched the well oiled gears in his brain turn and crank until he deflated. "I really care about you."
"But?" You asked, feeling your heart sink to your stomach.
"I'm going to have to leave one day." He reminded you. "I don't want to hurt you like that."
"I know that." You nodded as you took his hand into your non injured one. "But you've been on the run for almost a year now, Steve. That's a whole year of your life that you'll never get back just because you don't know where you'll have to go or what you'll have to do next. Tell me, how much longer do you think you'll have until you leave Greenwood?"
"I don't know." He whispered, trying to understand your point.
"How long until you're forgiven?"
"I don't know."
"How long until the world needs their Steve Rogers back?"
"I don't know."
"How long has it been since we've been dancing around whatever is going on here just because time is so uncertain?" You laced your fingers with his, and his thumb nervously traced stripes into the back of your hand.
"Since the moment I saw you." He admitted, cheeks glowing pink.
"It's been a long time. A really long time. Months" You reminded him. "Whether we have a whole life time ahead of us, or only five more minutes, I'd rather spend the rest of my time with you being genuinely happy instead of dully dancing around the inevitable."
"Are you going to hate me when I go?" He questioned softly. You could see the concern smeared across his face. The fear flooded his eyes and sunk his eyebrows, he really couldn't handle one more person he loves hating him.
"Nothing could make me hate you." You denied. "I understand that this can't be forever, and that's okay. I just want it for now."
His free hand made its way up to your hair before gently pulling the strands that didn't quite make it into your ponytail away from your face and behind your ear.
Thoughts were firing out of every corner of his mind and ricocheting off every surface they could. It caused a chaotic sea of emotions, and paralyzed him with lack of words as the only outcome he could think of in this moment was closing his eyes and leaning forward hoping you'd meet him halfway.
And you did. His hand traveled along with your movements, caressing the side of your face as your soft lips met his.
The kiss was long, gentle, and sweet. Both of you couldn't remember the last time butterflies filled your stomach that didn't involve cutting it really close in hand to hand combat or just barely escaping a man that wanted to do you harm.
Most people loved to offer unsolicited advice when they learned of the situation with your ex. They all advised you, butterflies aren't some romantic feeling that was meant to sweep you off your feet, it was anxiety warning you to run.
But this, this was different. They were calm, slow flutters that made you feel so warm and relaxed that running wasn't even an option. You were more so melting into his hands like a popsicle on a hot summer day, you felt like the chunks of butter atop a crumble in the oven; slowly melting and turning a good thing even better.
When you mutually pulled away because the unfortunate human need to breathe was just too much, your foreheads and noses stayed pressed together.
"I think you're braver than me." Steve admitted, thou could hear the sadness in his voice.
"Why is that?"
"You've already accepted that this can't be forever, yet I already miss you even when you're right in front of me." His throat felt like it was closing, and his heart was slowly being ripped apart in his chest.
You kissed his lips once more, then again, and again. "I'll miss you too, but we shouldn't keep wasting such a good thing while it's right in front of us. Our time together is so precious, we have a chance right now to make the most out of it." He kissed you this time, then you continued. "Sunflowers still grow when the moon is out."
"I don't know if I would still be surviving this without you." The confessions wouldn't stop flowing passed his lips at this point. "I guess that makes you my sunflower in the dark."
"You'll make it home one day." You pulled your forehead off of his. "You'll be forgiven, you'll get your family back, and when it happens I'll still be cheering you on."
"I'll tell them all about Greenwood, and how I risked everything for a sweet little baker that catches falling knifes and hides away criminals." His sadness started to dissolve when he saw how yours never arrived.
It did, but you did a good job hiding it for the sake of his own mind.
"I'm not hiding away a criminal, I'm hiding away my best friend. Big difference."
His smile stretched impossibly wide. "They'll never believe me, by the way. All of them will make jokes about it until I find my way back to you and they see it with their own eyes."
"If that's the case, you'll need to fill me in on what kind of desserts Avengers like to eat because I'll have to win them over somehow." A yawn took over the end of your words.
"Do you want me to walk you home?" Steve questioned.
You shook your head. "Don't want to miss you that much."
"Okay, then how does Cars 2 and some real cuddles this time sound?"
"Like a dream come true." You smiled before taking another opportunity to steal a kiss.
"Come on, let's get you cozy." He offered you a hand to help you off the counter.
You both changed into some cozier clothes after he found you a shirt and some sweatpants of his that might've had a fighting chance at staying on your body. It earned a good laugh when you had to roll up the waistband a few times and tie the drawstring tight, but your efforts to still look a little cute in a super soldiers clothes were diminished when his shirt swallowed you whole.
Although Steve's clothes looked much better on him, you couldn't even begin to deny how comfortable you were as you slipped into his bed in his surprisingly well decorated bedroom and found yourself wrapped up in him once more.
"Tomorrow I'll help you change the bandages on your hand and drive you to work." He exclaimed while running his fingers through your hair that was now out of its ponytail and flowing freely.
"That's some real princess treatment." You drowsily mumbled, soaking in his body heat.
"I'm pretty sure that's the bare minimum of human decency." Steve challenged.
"I told the girls that I got injured at work and that I'll be going in late." You informed. "We can sleep in."
"Good, you deserve more than 12 hours between workdays."
"Nobody in the entire world would be able to wake me up before the sun if this is what I'm falling asleep to." You smiled as your eyelids were forcing you to keep them shut.
"I'm happy to have you here" Steve kissed the top of your head.
"I'm so happy to be here." You reaffirmed. "Goodnight, honey."
"Sweet dreams, Sunflower."
Tumblr media
Next Part: Beautifully Natured
Tag list: @patzammit @bemysugarbean @buckymydarlingangel @happinessinthebeing @jaqui-has-a-conspiracy-theory @differenttyphoonwerewolf @themotherof10 @lokislady82 @talesofadragon @spikeluv84 @xxxalicerogersxx @avid-fic-reader-05 @royalwriteroftheuniverse @whiskeytangofoxtrot555 @bitchy-bi-trash
354 notes · View notes
Text
Tumblr media
I feel warm thanks to friends and supporters. Especially Lemonadeicesoda. Thank you. Enjoy this drabble
You huffed in annoyance as you clung to the bath towel closer to your wet skin. Your ex Navy Seal boyfriend or whatever he was to you. He kidnapped your ass.
Norman was lifting his weights. And he was making you watch him. He said he doesn't trust you alone without his watchful eye. He makes you stay. Even chopping wood.
You knew he was bullshitting you. That millionaire set up cameras all around his mansion. And his dogs and guns were there too to prevent you from running away... Again.
You tried but you were so pathetic. Norman easily caught you without anyone's help.
You gave up running away.
The punishment of his belt gave you bad memories.
You knew Norman couldn't stay away from you. You would have gushed from his attention. But, you didn't love that psycho bastard. And you also knew that jerk was showing off his strength. As if that would make you fall in love.
You scowled. You will never love that wrinkly old man. You didn't do anything. Norman used to be blind for months. He got surgery. Then demanded you to pay him for the cost. Ironically, he didn't want money. He has more than enough. As an excuse, he said he wanted your love and companionship as his girlfriend.
Now, here you were. Broken spirited. Norman looked at your beautiful sad face in the corner of his blue eyes. He wished you would smile. But, you seemed to always hate him. He didn't mean to slap or whip you for misbehaving and giving him attitude.
He wanted to marry you and give you children. You just had to give him a chance first instead of blocking him out.
The loud thud caused you to jump. The heavy weights fell on the floor.
He was leaving his home gym early.
You were not a sports girl. You took ballet from time to time as a small hobby. And would walk and hike.
But, your beautiful yet small and flat duck feet made you a horrid swimmer. Norman was so obsessed with survival training. You wondered why
You were definitely not thinking of Joining a military branch so why would this old man force his ideals on you like a dictator? As long as you live in his mansion you will obey his rules. You don't want to live with him and he will not let you go. Hypocrite jerk.
You simply cannot swim. Your own father gave up on you. He hired teachers and you failed to understand. Even kids were better than you. Which embarrassed your dad. As a last resort before giving up, your dad threw you inside the pool like he was by his cousins when he was a kid. Your dad sadly saved your pathetic ass from drowning. He gave up.
You wondered when Norm will give up on you. But that pervert must love looking at you in a skimpy bikini.
You used to take selfies on your Instagram and just pose next to water. But you would use life jackets to have fun with your friends. Now, you are regretting your actions. You were not a social media influencer. You wanted to be important rather than an entertainer. You wanted to be a linguist. Go to East Asian villages and study ancient and dead languages in rural places that has no technology.
But, here you were a kidnapped bride. Norman luckily promised to not force himself in you. Besides hugging and kissing.
Snapping back to reality, Norman sighed. "I know you're tired. Sleep now."
He picked you up from your sitting position bridal style and walked you to the bedroom you shared with him. He made you sleep next to him. That was all.
After making you remove your wet bikini and into your silk night dress. Norman was sitting on the bed waiting for you with a brush to untangle your long wet hair.
He kissed your bare neck after finished. He tucked you in.
You blinked in confusion. He will not join you? Giving you a sad smile, Norman traced your bottom fat lips with his thumb. He declared of some computer paper he has to type which will take hours.
He leaned in and you closed your eyes and said nothing as he kissed the tip your cute nose.
"Sleep well, doll."
You watched his muscled back walk out of the luxurious room then eventually slept.
Maybe... If you allowed Norman inside your heart, your new life will not always have to be the same boring routine.
Should you give it a try?
44 notes · View notes
cup1dxzs · 1 year
Text
Tumblr media
Darling Little puppet
Wally X Reader
Chapter 2- Noodle soup
It had been late afternoon, the children’s puppet show that had you enthralled with was long gone by now, much to your displeasure. It wasn’t often when you’d find yourself anticipating for the next release of an episode since you’d prefer not to indulge yourself with silly little things such as that, but alas you had fallen victim to such.
For now you’d stick with making yourself a small dinner as your appetite wasn’t demanding for too much food and you didn’t want to end up with a stomach ache. After some thinking on your part you had chosen to make yourself some chick noodle soup, that way when you had leftovers you could have some soup for breakfast tomorrow morning. As you made the concoction you’d call soup your mind slowly wandered back to that children’s show to which you had learned was called ‘Welcome Home’, albeit strange in your opinion because who were they welcoming home? But it could be that they’re welcoming the viewer, in this case was you, home.
Also something else interesting to remember was that you’d learn the darling little puppets name, Wally, thanks to another friend of Wally, she had bright blonde hair with pink felted ‘skin’ and to accompany her was a bright red dress that faded into yellow towards the bottom, including green leggings that you supposed only she could pull off followed by some white dressing shoes, she also had what seemed to be horns on a headband? You weren’t sure what the inspiration was from but it was still such an endearing puppet to look at, her name was Julie, it fit her happy go lucky personality. You had to give credits for the designer of all these puppets since they were just so well made especially for a children’s show.
As much as you wanted to focus on the cutesy parts of the show you couldn’t help yourself but to think about how strange Wally was, as much as he was such a cute little doll- erm- puppet you felt something was definitely wrong when you would spot him just staring right into the camera as his other neighbors would talk amongst each other, his eyes would be two black voids they’d be so blown out that you wouldn’t even be able to see the whites of the eye from where you rested on the couch. Seeing him not break eye contact even to blink sent shivers down your spine, but maybe you were just overthinking it? I mean the thought that some kiddy show had something cryptic hidden inside was laughable in itself, even if it did you were pretty sure that the channel that broadcasted would take it off the air faster then you could snap-
“Shit! That hurts!” You cried out as you saw blood slowly start to trickle down your finger, you’d stupidly cut your finger chopping the carrots, clearly your attention was somewhere other then focusing on cooking the food. Turning off the stove you’d be quickly on your way to look for a bandage, cupping your finger as some blood dripped slipped through and dripping down onto the floor, it made you feel queasy to see all that blood.
Finally gone from the living space and somewhere else roaming the small house a faint click was heard by none, the Tv was on and nothing but static could be seen, or so one could have thought, a faint outline of two inky black voids that could be considered eye stared out into the room, analyzing it.
———————————————————————————
I wasn’t expecting the last post I made to be seen by others :,D but I’m so thankful that you guys read it!! Also lemme know if theirs anything I can fix or just anything you wanna let me know!!!
-ChillyKitty
183 notes · View notes
switch-writer · 3 months
Text
Blueberry haired and Raspberry haired
Tumblr media
A/N: AHHH THIS IS SO LATE, BUT HEY @stopiteatpopcorn , I WAS YOUR SQUEALING SANTA. I hope you like it and that it was worth the wait! I didn’t wanna force myself to write this because as someone who’s your friend, and as I do with all squealing Santa events, I PUT MY ALL INTO IT. And we know when we force ourselves to write, it’s just, BLAH. But hopefully you like it! I also kept texting you to subtly get ideas or know if I could write something so HAHA👹 I wanna thank a new friend of mine (who ironically isn’t in the tickle community) for giving me the idea of how to even START THIS FIC. So thank them👺🫵 I ALSO WANNA THANK OUR HOST FOR SQUEALING SANTA THIS YEAR. Always amazing to work with the host, and our host this year was lovely and understanding, so thank you! And without further rambling, this was fun to write and I hope you enjoy!
Summary: Shanks and Buggy cross paths, and the flashy clown has to figure out how to avoid a fight with Shanks without spilling everything. Meanwhile, Shanks isn’t too concerned and helps his friend lighten up… with some teasing of course.
Extra note: I didn’t proof read so there maybe spelling errors 🤡
Warnings: Tickles, foot tickles, I don’t remember if there’s swearing, I don’t think there’s anything else.
See. This was unexpected. In fact, if you told Buggy this was a day he’d meet Shanks once again. Not even close to the top of his guesses. Yet, here he was, making eye contact with Shanks…
And he was horrified. His crew was cheering and ready to loyally watch their captain take on a rival, one of the strongest pirates of the sea, the famous red haired Shanks! This was beyond exciting, they could barely contain their joy as they stood behind their Captain.
As for This Captain… The blue haired Captain was trembling in pure shock, not only did he know of Shank’s power… but Shanks had the power to piss him off like no other. It was like it’s own devil fruit.
So here Buggy was, trembling in some sort of mixed emotion as the red haired pirate smiled in a laid back manner, as if aware of his feelings and chose to observe.
“Dammit! Make the first move!”
“Haha! Clowns first, you know that rule!” Shanks called with his confident yet relaxed tone, not worried in the slightest as he teased. However, this comment happened to make an emotion in Buggy take dominance…
Anger.
“NOSE?! I NOSE THAT RULE—?! Why You Little—!”
And the chop chop fruit went to work as Buggy split in two pieces, namely his torso ‘chopped’ off from his waist, and he and his torso went straight up to Shanks, flying up to him.
“YOU BETTER NOT SAY ANOTHER WORD OF MY NOSE—!” Buggy squawked, Shanks letting a soft laugh out as he flashed a smile. “Ah, you never change, Buggy.” The pirate with a higher bounty spoke with those hazed eyes, causing more complaints from the blue haired pirate.
“WHAT?! I’ve changed lots, mind you! You just don’t know it yet, you haven’t seen anything yet!” His hands detached as he gripped Shanks by his shirt, poking his chest as well as the fellow pirate smirked softly, amused by how easily provoked Buggy happened to be.
Meanwhile, Buggy’s crew was in awe. “Captain is handling Red Haired like he’s not afraid of a thing he could do… our Captain is unbeatable!” They cheered out, snapping the squawking and squabbling pirate out of his focus to glance back at the crew he led.
“…Hmph.” Buggy huffed, calming down… as much as Buggy could.
“You have quite a crew, a supportive one at that.” Shanks spoke with a calming tone, sounding… happy for Buggy. The clown seemed shocked, becoming choked up as his crew members continued to cheer…
“Hah! Of course! We’re the best crew around!” The Chop Chop Man exclaimed cockily. “Haha! Of course you are.” Shanks commented. “Hey! What’s that supposed to mean! That sounded sarcastic!” Buggy scolded before crossing his arms despite his hands still gripping Shanks’ shirt.
But within a couple moments, Buggy and Shanks went into private, just a simple little room as their crews stood back and let them ‘sort things out’ and whatnot. In actuality, they were just going to chat so Buggy could avoid the fight and not get bested in combat so miserably.
So here they were… And this was… horribly awkward. Especially now that Buggy stopped whining.
“…Well aren’t you going to say something?!”
Nevermind.
“We have time, don’t we? Tell me, what’s the recent?” Shanks spoke calmly, his charming smile always remaining on his face. Although, this question managed to make the clown defensive.
“Lots of things! Of course we’re planning on storming the grand line, finding all the treasure in the world, and taking out every pirate we cross!” Buggy protests, refusing to show any small bumps in this little plan of his. “Oh?” The redhead spoke before adding onto his sentence.
“So what about me then?” “Eh?” The blueberry— I mean blue haired man seemed flustered. “You said you’d destroy any pirates in your way… right?” “W-Well, yes—!” Buggy spoke with little confidence, trying to avoid what Shanks was implying.
“So, why not go up against me?”
Oh come on! He made this impossible to avoid! What excuse would even make sense other than ‘I’m a wussy!’
“Because… I have my reasons and I don’t need to explain them!”
That caused a moment of silence, his fumbled sentence made his reasons a mystery, and that seemed to surprise Shanks since usually Buggy couldn’t keep a thing from him.
“…Oh? Well… in that case, Buggy.” Shanks began before grinning.
“Let’s play a game.”
The Genius Jester seemed to be caught off guard once more, but listened intently.
“I’ll try and get you to confess your reasonings, and you resist.” And that seemed easy enough, thank goodness! Hah! This will obviously be easy! So, Buggy pridefully crossed his arms and stuck up his nose— erm, stuck up his chin, as if radiating his ego with his body language.
“Hah! Do your worst!” The Clown spoke as the lacking strawhat Captain seemed glad he had fallen into his little game. His little trap.
Shanks slowly stood from his seat, and slowly approached Buggy… and walked behind Buggy.
Was this an intimidation tactic? Buggy couldn’t tell! But it was horrifying! Horrific even! “Hey—! Watch it—!” Buggy attempted to speak before suddenly letting a shriek out, feeling a little bit of a tickle… or rather multiple tickles around his neck as he quickly tried to flip around.
And as expected, he was met with that smile… but with a mischievous hint to it.
“Still got weaknesses from our days as rookies?”
No.
“Don’t—!” Buggy fumbled. “Why not? It clearly still works.”
Don’t.
“T-That doesn’t mean it’s fair!” The clown exclaimed before a small chuckle left Shanks. “Well, consider it payback since you never played fair.”
And despite that, Buggy couldn’t think of another word before his own laughter bubbled out of his throat from tickling around his belly, causing loud but the famously silly laughs from Buggy. They were more authentic and less dramatized!
Only authentic for the ‘fan’ who’s been there since the start.
“Do you give in?” “N-NEHEVER! Nohot a chance—!”
And suddenly, Shanks raised him up from the chair and pushed him with his arm onto the bed, causing Buggy to fall right over. And within a moment, Shanks was sitting on his waist, spidering and scribbling his fingers on the clown’s belly, causing everything but him staying quiet, nor still as he snorted, his limbs flailing yet never reaching where he needed them to.
“S-SHAHAAAANKS!”
“Oho. That was like a battle cry. What’s up?” “PFF— QUHUIT IT! I-I demahand you s-stohop it!” “Oh? Hmm… no can do. I haven’t heard anything but laughing from you, and I definitely didn’t hear any reasons.”
Oh come on! Buggy would’ve sulked if he wasn’t smiling bigger and brighter than a star, but out of the blue… he felt something. He finally didn’t feel tickling all over his belly, but he also felt Shanks.. oh no. Nonono. Not this. Not again. What’s with happy people who wear strawhats or have worn strawhats and this—?!
“Wait—! Waitwaitwait—! Shanks—! Don’t you dare—!” Buggy protests, trying to grab at Shanks before Shanks flipped himself around, now facing his lower half and slipped his shoe off.
“Alright! I’ll count down. 3…”
“SHANKS—!”
“2…”
“Don’t—! Don’tyoueven—!”
“1!”
And due to Shanks knowing how to work around lacking an arm, he sat on his leg, good for Shanks! But awful for Buggy who couldn’t move his foot.
And the moment he felt the gentle touch of Shank’s fingers skittering around, he admittedly was laughing like a hyena, not that it’s inherently out of character for him, but not something you’d hear everyday. Admittedly, as loud as Buggy was, after he’d squeal, he’d start laughing more… softly? It still had the raspiness in his voice, but it was much softer after he got used to the feeling.
“Kitchee koo?”
“sHUT UP—!”
It brought that smile Shanks had to a grin, he enjoyed seeing his old friend laugh…
But on the other hand, Buggy didn’t ever have this much endurance when he was younger… did he get less ticklish when he grew up? Possibly… but not quite… more endurance maybe?
Nonetheless, Shanks was stumped. It seems more like his friend was enjoying it, which was good, but he wasn’t willing to fess up. As rewarding as the happy laughter was, Shanks still had to tease him. That’s what left Buggy on his feet.
Oh ironic. Shanks chuckled before stopping, letting his friend take breaths and relax as the redhead hummed, thinking this over… What else could he do? He needed another little push…
“Oh! Buggy!”
“Oh what now?! Was that not enough?!” Buggy whined frustratedly, although it was clear he didn’t truly care that much. He was always dramatic about situations, especially to keep up his pride, and that added to his charm… erm well. ‘Charm.’
“Haha! I just had an idea is all. It may get you talking?” And the clown pouted. “Oh you’re joking!” He huffed out, moody despite the playful situation. It wasn’t that it was that bad, but his pride surely didn’t like it.
Although… The childish action sparked memories! Happy memories… and it was heartwarming for Buggy to think back on them…
BUT! If that stupid pirate who lost his strawhat thinks he can make him all soft and happy, he has another thing coming!
“Pff. I promise I’ll stop if this doesn’t work, alright?” Oh. Well… fine. Buggy nodded approvingly with his chin up high in pride, whether or not he wanted the memories to stop, this red haired whatever his face is isn’t gonna win!
With that, the man with the scars around his eye smiled casually… and lifted his shirt up. “…What.” Buggy mumbled in confusion. What could he possibly—
And suddenly Buggy’s thoughts were interrupted by… a loud high pitched squeal. One a coward would have. And it was followed by hearty laughter.
Granted, Buggy was a squealer, but Shanks’ laughter afterwards was his signature, beyond recognizable.
“Oh that’s great! Gold even! Let me do that again!” And Shanks leaned down to his belly, and blew a raspberry straight onto his tummy, causing not only the funny noise to ring out, but another squealy shrieky laugh from Buggy as he threw his head back in laughter, his hair flopping around as he wiggled.
“DAHAHAMMIT—! H-Hahave mercy—! Nonono noT AGAHAHAIN—!”
Buggy kept getting attacked by raspberries, not only causing a ticklish sensation, but the sounds and noises making him laugh, especially when Shanks would laugh half way through the raspberry.
And if this wasn’t a spinning image of when they were children, then nothing was. It was ironic to see this play out.
“Okay!! OKAY—! I’ll tell you—! Just quHUHUIT—!” And one final big raspberry on the belly, and Shanks lifted himself up, laughing softly and yet with his whole heart.
And admittedly, they were just sitting there laughing and giggling for about 30 seconds before Buggy forced himself back to reality and stood to his feet. “N-Now this isn’t over! Just because I gave in doesn’t mean— wait where’s my…” Buggy quickly checked for his shoe before Shanks tossed it over.
And then Buggy went right back to speaking, pulling his boot on. “— It doesn’t mean that I am weaker than you! I just… pitied your attempts and thought it was such a waste of time.”
“Right.” Shanks smirked, a cheeky smirk of course as he leaned back. “Is this a good time to confess I actually just wanted to play around and didn’t care?”
Silence…
“OH YOU LITTLE—!” Buggy stormed over, causing Shanks to laugh once more as usual…
“LETS SEE HOW YOU LIKE IT THEN—!”
And with that, it was safe to say their crews didn’t see them for a little while… but it was worth it for them to relive some memories and have some fun… and of course, take one another down a notch…
Or namely, a clown was taken down a notch or two, as for the redhaired pirate… we can only guess, hm?
33 notes · View notes
aloneinthehellfire · 1 year
Text
Chapter 11: Déjà Vu
Season One | Season Two | Season Three | Season Four
Tumblr media
Raining Hellfire: Season Four
Word Count: 3810 words
Warnings: swearing, mentions of death, blood, violence/ attacked, traumatic flashbacks, knife
[A/N: i felt like reader deserved a moment to show just how badass she is. also yes the majority of the word count is just flashback sequences... i may have cheated]
Tumblr media
Déjà Vu
You woke up to clash of red lightning, body aching like you had been dropped to the ground from a height.
Which, to your realisation, is exactly what happened.
On the ground next to you lay the bodies of three dead bats. Demobats, Dustin would probably call them. Up close, you saw the razor-sharp teeth, the scaly skin that made your own crawl. The pain in your abdomen was a memory of what just happened. The demobats eating away at you and Steve.
“Steve.” You gasp, sitting up too quickly and feeling the repercussions in the form of a sharp sting to your stomach. With a groan you clutch down on the wound, attempting to stand.
There’s a flutter above you and you almost start running on instinct. But something in you told you not to be afraid. And, as you look up, your breath hitches.
A swarm of black particles hovered above you and, with chill down your spine, you realised what had happened. The dead creatures, the tingling of power through your veins. Even unconscious, the dust had sensed your anger and you had somehow used that to your advantage. It explained the black blood dripping from your nose. You had promised not to use your power, to yourself and to your best friend. That didn’t work out as well as you hoped.
Stumbling away from the scene, you watch as the particles seem to disappear, trailing away to somewhere you’d rather not follow. You struggle to move properly, body still aching from the drop. Pulling your hand away from your stomach, blood stained your skin and you felt faint. But you couldn’t stop here. Wherever here was.
A quick look around and you recognised the woods, almost instantly. In fact, your small and uneasy steps led you straight to a place you thought you’d never see again.
The bench in the middle of the woods was covered in vines. Considering earlier events, you knew not to touch them. You just hoped they wouldn’t spring to life and drag you away. If another happy memory was tarnished by the Upside Down, you might scream.
“Eddie?”
He didn’t turn, your headphones blocking you out.
“Eds!” You placed your hand on his shoulder and he almost jumped out of his skin. He sprung up and got into a karate stance, his arms held out in front of him. The sight made you double over with laughter.
“Y/n.” He breathed, removing the headphones and letting them rest around his neck. “Hey, it’s not funny. I could have-”
“Karate-chopped me straight to hell?” You laughed. His eyes brightened as he smiled at you.
“You never know.” He ran his hand through his hair and you calmed down, taking a seat.
He pretended to shake off his reaction, walking to the other side of the bench when he looked up and stopped. He just stared at you.
“What?” You say, your hand raising to your face, “Is there something on me? I swear if it’s a spider I’ll-”
“No! No. You just-”
“What?” Your inner panic was showing. Alternate dimensions with human-eating creatures you could probably handle. A spider in your hair? That was the ultimate fear.
“You look different.” He said, sitting.
“Different good?” You asked, looking down at yourself.
“Yeah! Not that you didn’t look good before. I just mean that you look… different. From usual, I mean.”
“Thank you?” You said. Deep down, you were blushing.
“Uh, so…” He clasped his hands together. “Not that I’m not happy to see you or anything but… what brings you to the middle of the woods all dressed up like that?”
He smiled again. You could barely concentrate when he smiled.
“Funeral.” You managed to say. His smile faded and you snapped back into reality, clearing your throat. “Uh… Will Byers. It’s his funeral.”
“Oh. I’m sorry.” He said sincerely.
“Yeah…” You replied quietly.
“Can I… help at all? I don’t know what I can do but-”
“Oh you don’t have to. I’m okay. I mean… it’s upsetting, of course it is but…” You struggled to find words that didn’t suggest you thought he was still alive, “I’ve had time to mourn.”
“Then why do you look so sad?” He smiled softly, seeing through you.
“I-” You took a breath. “I don’t like funerals. Not that anyone does, it’s a shitty occasion. I’ve just been to more than I like to admit.”
You looked up and he was agreeing with your words.
“I get it.”
For a few seconds, you just sat in silence before you took in the scene.
“Wait. Is this the famous bench I’ve heard so much about?” You changed the subject, your eyes widening with your smile.
“Thank you for noticing.” He smiled back, sweeping his arm out to display the bench in question. “This baby has gotten me through five whole years of self-reflection. You see, I’m working on myself.”
He held his hand to his heart, sarcasm marking his words.
“So it’s a spiritual bench. I feel honoured to be sat here.”
You smile at the recollection before it turns sour, sadness creeping in. This place held value to you; your first kiss with Eddie, in particular. Your relationship with him had only just begun and you had already been blurting out lies.
You just hoped he knew that your feelings for him were true.
A distant screech caught your attention as you stared back up at the sky through the layers of leaves. The trees provided good protection from the demobats, but that didn’t mean there weren’t other creatures lurking around.
The pain from your wound was worsening with each step you took and you search yourself for some kind of bandage. Your hands fumble across the material wrapped around your waist and it wasn’t until you focused that you remembered the yellow jumper.
Steve’s yellow jumper.
Fear flooded in. You had left him there, demobats tearing into his skin with no chance of escape from their claws. Swallowing the guilt, you tie the jumper tightly around your abdomen, wincing when it adds the pressure you need to your wound. Steve could be dead. You could be stuck in the Upside Down forever. And your only reminder of him was now soaking up your blood.
You didn’t know which way to go, your memory faltering at the flipped version of your home. You desperately wanted to go back for Steve, to find him regardless of if his heart was beating. But you didn’t know the direction you came from. All you knew was the path to the graveyard. So, with a heavy heart, you knew that was the path to take.
With every turn, you had convinced yourself you were going the wrong way. These trees looked similar yet so different to how you last remembered them, and the darkness didn’t help you navigate your way. You wondered if this place even had a daytime.
It was a relief to see the gravestones line the grass, as morbidly wrong as that was. But you knew your way home from here. Even if it wasn’t really your home.
You throw quick glances at the stones, mentally saying the names in order to focus and calm your nerves. You were alone in a monster-infested land, covered in blood. You had every reason to be nervous. You pass a familiar patch of land, images of your floating sister burned into your brain. You stopped when you realised that Billy’s headstone wasn’t there.
“What the...” You mutter under your breath, double-checking you had the right spot. That was impossible.
If the Upside Down truly was a flipped version of Hawkins, then the stone should be there. In fact, as you look around once more, there were many missing from the land. Every theory ran through your mind as you stand motionless.
Dr Mornt, a man that had died at the age of 60, had a headstone placed for him, marking the year he died; 1984. Although you hadn’t known him, you had walked past that grave so many times, always remembering the name. And it definitely wasn’t there.
Your eyes widened. That meant that the Upside Down hadn’t aged since-
A loud roar echoed through the graveyard, making your hair stand on end as you immediately duck for cover, hiding behind a statue of an angel, careful to avoid the covering vines. Your breathing was heavy, a sick feeling in your stomach.
You knew the roar all too well.
You heard a gasp and turned your head, seeing Nancy run behind a tree with the creature stalking behind it. That was just you a few minutes ago.
Y/n! Nancy! Follow my voice!
You noticed light shining through the bottom of the tree just next to the one Nancy currently used as a shield. If she moved, it would definitely catch her. She turned her head when she noticed you, her eyes wide. You glanced between her and the creature. You took a deep breath and slowly raised your bat, nodding at her.
She shook her head aggressively, figuring out your plan. You only pointed to the gate. When she went to argue again, you let out a scream.
“Hey!” You yelled, its attention snapping towards you. Your mouth went dry.
The creature roared, its face opening like a flower that held dozens of rows of teeth, blood still dripping from its earlier meal.
You risk a peek over the marble, immediately ducking your head once you saw the grey, faceless figure. Your hands start to shake, chest tightening while tears formed in your eyes. You needed to control your breathing, not make any loud noises.
Not if you wanted to escape the Demogorgon.
Silent tears rolled down your cheeks as you heard its heavy breaths, body slowly making its way through the graveyard. You look down at yourself, the blood smeared across your body. It would be able to smell you. And if it got any closer, it would find you.
Just as the creature swiped at you with its claw, you ducked, swinging your bat to hit it squarely in the legs and it toppled over, rolling in the leaves. You hid behind a tree and you heard it roar again. The gate was so close in front of you. You could still see the light coming through.
But Nancy was still trying to make her way through. The light was dim. It was starting to close. You had a limited time frame to get both Nancy and yourself through before it closed for good.
You grabbed a clump of twigs from the ground and launched them in the opposite direction from the gate. The action caused the creature to lunge away from you and you ran to Nancy, pushing her through.
A distraction. That’s how you had managed to run last time. The Demogorgon never reacted to sight, the lack of eyes proving your theory. But sound and smell were heightened senses. You just needed something to act as a decoy.
Your eyes immediately drift to the yellow jumper around your waist, but part of you couldn’t use it. You couldn’t. So, instead, you quietly take off your own jacket, slipping it off your arms with small tugs against the material.
The next step was easier, smearing it with the blood currently covering your stomach. You tried not to wince at the cold touch of your hand.
A twig snaps not so far from you and you realise you’re running out of time. Bundling up the jacket, you figure out where you need to run to and realise you needed to throw it behind you if you wanted a head start at escaping. Mentally hyping yourself up, you slowly unfold into a stand, the statue still acting as a barrier and shielding your body.
You slightly side step around it, away from the noises from the creature stalking the graveyard. Once you are at the side, you raise your arm ready and silently turn to the direction you needed.
And the Demogorgon stared directly back, barely a breath away from you.
It lunged at you and you barely managed to launch yourself away from the attack, landing on the cold grass and struggling to scramble away, still clutching onto your blood soaked jacket. The Demogorgon didn’t take long to pounce on you again.
It manages to pin you down, trying to swipe at you with its giant claws and it only just missed your face as you lean your head to the side. Instead, it tore at the skin just below your shoulder, scratching above the heart. Your breaths were quick and painful, a scream building up in your throat.
It was happening again.
It was all happening again.
With one swift motion, its claws wrapped around your neck and threw you to the ground. The bat tumbled out of your hand as your head hit the hard floorboards. Its grip on you was tight, restricting your screams to mere whimpers. In the background, you could hear Nancy’s cries.
You struggled beneath the weight, trying anything to escape. It brought its head closer to you and slowly opened its giant mouth, rancid breath blowing onto your face. Each row of teeth brought terror to your mind. You didn’t want to die. It was true that you were willing to sacrifice yourself if it meant that your friends were safe. But seeing what would be your end… you weren’t ready.
Tears escaped your eyes as Nancy fired the gun at it, yelling. But the monster didn’t move.
“Y/N
DON’T BE AFRAID”
A dark voice echoed through your mind as the Demogorgon’s mouth continued to widen. You recognised the voice from the Upside Down, its deep nature once made you shudder. Without knowing why, it soothed you.
You stopped struggling and just laid there, accepting your fate.
Air was restricted, the claws tightening. But you didn’t panic. The light began to fade as you were falling to a fatal sleep.
A choked sob escapes your lips as you struggle beneath it, knowing that Steve wasn’t here this time to save you. No one was here to save you.
But this time, you had everything to lose.
You had promised Max you’d come back to her.
As the Demogorgon lowers its head towards you, you knew exactly what to do. You slide the jacket in your hand to lay below your neck, your other hand reaching to tug at the material so both hands held it tightly across your chest. And then, just before the creature can open its horrifying mouth, you use all your strength to wrap the jacket around its head.
The muffled screeches caused it to lash out at you as you pressed the thick jacket harder against it. Once it raised its body slightly, you kicked your legs out with enough force to push it away.
With all its heavy breathing, the jacket was now suffocating the Demogorgon, clung like film to its mouth. You watched as it struggled against the material, attempting to tear it off before your brain kicked into gear and you scramble to your feet and sprint as fast as you could out of the graveyard.
You ran all the way through town, following the roads. Even when your legs ached, you powered through it, desperately applying pressure on top of the yellow jumper. Your mouth felt dry, fatigue threatening to strike you at any moment. But you couldn’t stop. The glances you had thrown over your shoulder never recollected any signs of the Demogorgon following you, but you weren’t ready to risk that possibility.
Even reaching the familiar road didn’t soothe your anxiety. Instead, you had a whole new reason to be afraid.
The house looked like it had the day you arrived in Hawkins, chipped away paint and all. The vines were new, but not unexpected. The house was a little darker, its homely feel stripped right down to its terrifying core. It felt fitting, considering all that had happened.
An empty house for a girl left all on her own.
Jack had worked hard on restoring his home once he sobered up, returning it to its original shining glory that had made your aunt beg him to buy after their engagement. He would tell you that story over and over, how she refused to hire anyone to paint her new house. Your aunt was a fiery woman with a kind soul, always wanting to grasp the opportunities to make happy memories, even long before she became sick. You only met her a few times, when you were much younger.
And now they were both gone. But you knew that, if there really was one, they were reunited once again in the afterlife.
Unsure of where to go now, you shiver as the adrenaline slowly dissipated from your body. You needed to find a way to communicate with the others and try to find Steve. You didn’t know how long it had been since you were dragged away, but you prayed he was still alive.
A flash of light catches your eye and you freeze, staring directly at the window of the house next door. The Wheeler house.
There’s another shadow of movement and your breath hitches. Something was in that house.
You loved horror movies; you always found a way to make them funnier in your head, always laughing at the idiotic decisions the main characters made. Like, for one, hearing a noise and calling out as if the murderer would just let themselves up and apologise for attempting to kill them.
Or following the noise instead of running away from it. Which, to your horrible realisation, is what you always did.
You weren’t any better than the protagonist of a scary movie. And your feet were already at the window now, eyes peering in.
You barely see anything, nor hear. Shaking your head, you step away and turn around. You were just attacked by a Demogorgon, of course you were going to be on edge.
“Dustin?”
You turn immediately, your heart skipping a beat. That voice. Steve.
“Can you hear me? Dustin!”
You’re quickly moving to the front door, happiness setting in. He was alive. And he was here. You didn’t have to be alone-
You stop. Paranoia attacked the back of your mind. What if this was a trick? What if Vecna had created him to lure you inside?
“Hello?!”
But the sheer confidence and confusion in his voice was pure Steve Harrington. It had to be him.
Rather than use the front door, you slip around the back of the house, hoping that if it was a trick, you’d be able to see it before Vecna got his claws on you.
The back door was tricky to open, a vine wrapping right around the door knob. Not to mention that this door had always been creaky. The amount of times you and Nancy had almost been caught sneaking out after curfew had been the best kind of anxiety.
Now, you were afraid that one little noise could risk your life.
You do your best, barely any noise sounding from the old hinges, your fingers only just avoiding the vine. With a silent breath of relief, you step into the kitchen area, mind already fighting against your eyes as you try and remind yourself that you’re in the Wheeler house.
“Does anyone know Morse Code?”
Nancy’s voice was the last you expected to hear right now. With a gulp, you slowly walk towards the noise, more voices echoing into play. You can just make out Steve and Robin’s muffled responses before another voice surprises you.
“Wait, does SOS count?” Eddie says and everything doesn’t feel right.
Why were the others here? You had left them on the boat.
That same pit of anxiety tells you that it’s Vecna. He found you and now he’s playing with your mind, trying to lure you into a false sense of security.
Well, you weren’t going to let him win.
You grab a knife from the rack on the counter, trying not to react from the cool touch of it. Gripping it tightly, you make your way into the living room and see four shadows stood beneath a glittering chandelier. Eddie, if that even was him, was placing his hand back and forth in the light over and over in a rhythmic sequence. SOS.
“Do you guys think this will work?” Robin whispers out.
“We better hope so. I don’t think Vecna likes visitors.” Steve gestured to his body while Nancy breathes out.
“So… what now?” Eddie steps back, eyes set on the lights.
“We-” Nancy starts before another step creaks the floorboards beneath you and you mentally curse.
They all turn to the noise, jumping back before focusing their eyes.
“Y/n?” Nancy’s eyes widen and she steps towards you.
You hold the knife out and she immediately stops, holding her hands out.
“Woah, woah, woah.” Steve shakes his head, eyebrows scrunched in confusion and surely fear, moving closer, “Y/n, it’s us.”
“Right.” You grit your teeth, hand shaking slightly as that voice in the back of your mind tells you not to trust them.
“Seriously.” Robin nods profusely, not moving, “We swear that it’s really us. Okay? We-we dived in after you and Steve but we didn’t find you when we got to him and it’s been a mess ever since.”
“We tried to find you.” Eddie added and your eyes shift to his, heart beating faster.
“Y/n.” Nancy takes another step, slowly. “Vecna isn’t here.”
Everyone’s breath hitches once they understand why you’re acting this way. You had been affected by his curse for so long, you were beginning to doubt your own instincts.
“I…” You shuffle backwards, knife still held in your hand. “I can’t trust that.”
“Queen of the Demogorgons.” Eddie suddenly blurts and everyone looks to him, confused. He makes sure he’s in your line of vision before continuing. “That’s the name I gave you when you stopped that fight with Tommy. You… You called me King of the Freaks. Would Vecna even care enough to know that?”
You stand there for a moment, pondering the thought. Vecna only ever latched onto your bad memories, bringing up the trauma of your past rather than the joyous moments you cherished. It couldn’t be him.
Lowering your knife, you let it clatter to the floor and they all breathe sighs of relief.
“You okay?” Nancy asks tentatively, now by your side with her hand on your arm. You wipe away the tear that had threatened to fall, letting out a shaky breath.
“Um… actually…” You try before you feel faint, head spinning.
You heard your name being called to you as you stumbled to the floor, eyes fluttering shut.
Chapter 12: Riding To Freedom ->
Tumblr media
taglist: @gnnnne / @beepisbeep / @paintballkid711 / @eddiesbirdie / @livasaurasrex / @darktimelegends / @jackierose902109 / @mvrylee / @chervbs / @eternallyvenus / @nervouscatsuit / @f1nn-wolfhard / @hereiamhereigo / @ladybug0095 / @fangirling-4-ever / @astrolockley / @mothmanatemycat / @sheisjoeschateau / @champagnejoker / @umidktbh / @fallinginlovewithqueue / @ilovetaylorswift132006
160 notes · View notes
twistedoverbloat · 2 years
Note
Hmm... If the grate seven posses Yuu body would that mean that Yuu might have some form of features appears on their physical body?
Like for Malifecent they have tinny horns in their head and glowish green eyes, or with Scar is having claws and much thicker hair to look like a lions main
OOOO YES OMG-
Maleficent: when she takes over the body Yuu gets taller. They also get her dark aura that even the Fae know that they are more powerful and a staff shows up in their hand. Her crow Flys down on her staff as Yuu chuckles darkly at the cowering faces of everyone. Also the outfit turns into a longer robe Yuu wore in the entrance ceremony. But yes small Horns did should up but they can grow by how long Maleficent is in control. She is the strongest of all 7 so it takes a toll on Yuu more. But she makes it up by helping her use Dark magic that even Lilia dosen't know. I think an unique magic for them can be called The dark slumbering nest. "Come here child and rest, don't you worry you did your best now come to the Dark slumbering nest." This makes whoever they told it too to knock out and go into a ball of thorns that even Malleus can't go into or break.
Scar: Yes they ened up with Fangs and a longer hair representing a mane showing how they even tho are 'weak haven't lost a fight, and dosen't plan on ever. Scar makes them more cunning, tells them of plans that are sure to win. He even helps them show people their words are a matter of pride. Even Leona listened to them when they talk. When they do planning 3 hyenas show up to help assist their boss. Also the outfit is causal but also shows that they are of Royal and is ment to be respected. The unique magic can be called King of All where who ever hears the encounter is to obey their every word. "I am worthy! I am the king! Now Neal before me! King of All!"
Ursula: With her Yuu can make tentacles appear to help with poisons and contracts they make. Their hair turns white like her's and her two eels show up around them as if they are underwater. During book 3 Azul isn't able to make a deal because Ursula's magic canceled it out and the Tweels magic dosen't work on them. Instead Yuu ended up make a deal wit Azul and if they won they get his voice for a week to each that little boy a lesson. Ursula's words. Their outfit is a sleek black dress that at the bottom curls into 8 tentacles that are fully commanded by Yuu. The unique magic is called Deal with the Witch. Where unless what ever Yuu made in the contract is done you will forever be debated to them. "I'll make you a deal! Don't worry it's a steal! Now come here and I'll make it real! Deal with the Witch!"
Queen of hearts: When she takes over Yuu is able to command everyone. Just like how the Queen was able to command the card guards. When she Yells off with their head an axe will appear for her to chop it if a gaurd is too slow with it. The head does come off but the person is still alive and the head can't be put back on until the Queen lifted her order. They also get a simular dress as the Queen. A white rabbit shows up sometimes to help them. They can do a special move called Order in my Court, because since the Queen made rules to keep saneness in her kingdom she is the absolute rule of the land. Yuu used this when the Ceremony was in chaos the Queen snapped in action and yelled "I am the rule I am the Queen and for all You will listen to me! ORDER IN MY COURT!"
The Beautiful Queen: When she takes over she also helps with spells but even Ursula has to admit she's better at potions and poisonings. The outfit is a long dark purple robe showing nobility and a crow to show they are a Royal. A Mirror is shown behind them to Whisper the secrets of the person they are going against. She helps come up with plans too with scar and Jafar. Her unique magic could be See me as a friend. Hello my dear! And come here, for I am not mean or bad! Now come here see me as a friend. When they cast this they are seen as innocent and fake memories are planted into the victims head to show they are truly there for them. And when the person turns their back they poison them.
Jafar: when he takes control he also makes Yuu grow taller and mincing. They are a very good person to persuade anyone even Crowley didn't know that he actually agreed to whatever Yuu said. Jafar only comes out if Yuu really needs to get Yuu of a sticky situation. And even so Jafar dosent use this too much helping Yuu and giving tips on how to do it themselves. The outfit turns into a deep red robe that trails the floor a little and a staff appears too. A semi tall hat is on their head and a parrot is shown on their shoulder. I think the unique magic would be As I Wish. I am not genie, for I am wise! Now let me make your demise and so! As I Wish! This makes any small or good Wish come true for them. Like oh I wish for a whatever that would help the situation but every time they use it they only get 3. And they have to wait a week for it to come back. So hey don't use it until they HAVE too.
Hades: he also makes Yuu tall but they end up with fire hair and VERY sassy. They can also control any fire if they wished. Hades outfit makes them wear a dark toga that complements them with a dark crown that shows they are Royal in the Underworld. They are able to summon Pain and Panic to go torment students that got on their bad side. Also Cerburus can be summoned by them! But mostly for pats and stuff unless someone fucked up and and they him to eat their soul-They can also see how long every boy lives for since when they want to know something about someone a piece of paper shows up and shows them all their good and wrong doings. The unique magic could be Raise the Dead! I am the ruler. I am the Saint. Now come and be my bait! Rise the Dead! Idk about this one but I'm running out out idea's- so this one is where they could basically raise the dead but it makes all the ghosts go to their human forms again. When Yuu was the one to show off on Halloween they did their unique magic and made it the best Halloween EVER!
But yeah this Au is like brain rot for me-
750 notes · View notes
phoenixinthefiles · 1 month
Text
Wash Away All My Fears
My First Flowerbyte fic 💻📱💜... it's about Wash Day which is very on brand- not as dramatic as the title makes it seem tho this is not beta-ed at alllll I'll make any needed edits when I wake up gn ya'll
Tumblr media
Margo drags her hand down her face with a sigh. She’s been trying to psych herself up for wash day for 8 minutes. She’s already procrastinated and pushed it off for three days, she can’t go another day wearing it out in a fro. It's getting too hot for that. 
She groaned and leaned to drop her head against the counter. She literally did a whole deep clean on her bathroom yesterday because she was procrastinating. 
Which technically wasn’t procrastinating because she was still doing something productive.
She raised her head up and grabbed her phone. Her contacts were still open, washing her hair wasn’t the only thing she was putting off.
He did say to call her whenever, but Margo still has trouble with talking to him outside of the Spider Verse. 
Sure, her virtual character is practically her carbon copy…but it still wasn’t carbon. Up close there were many more flaws differences between VR and the real Margo. 
They’d had many FaceTime calls throughout their relationship but Margo still worried about making things awkward every time she answered the phone. 
She took another look at her reflection and made up her mind.
If she had to suffer she wasn’t going to do it alone.
Miles answered immediately, bringing the phone close to his face and smiling widely.
Margo laughed a little. He did that everytime, he probably did it when they talked on the phone without video too.
“Hi Miles.” 
He pulled the phone away from his face and propped it up on something in front of him.
“Hey, I was just about to call you.’
Margo blinked, “Really?”
Miles rolled his eyes and adjusted his headphones. “Nah I just said that.”
Margo rolled her eyes back but there was a small smile on her face.
“What are you doing anyway?”
“I’m about to wash my hair, and I’m also trying not to take some scissors and chop it all off.”
“Actually you would need clippers and you would buzz it off.”
“You’re enabling me?”
“Yup, Just chop it all off, girl,” He replied in a high-pitched voice.
Margo burst out laughing and shook her head as she watched him snap his fingers.
“Yeah, I’m starting to regret calling you.”
He raised his hands in question, “I didn’t do anything!”
“Exactly,” Margo said as she turned on the water, she made sure it was the perfect temp before she continued.
“I called you for moral support and I’m not feeling supported right now.”
Miles dropped his mouth open in mock shock and pressed his hand to his chest dramatically. 
“After I did a girl voice for you and everything?” 
Margo snorted, “Yeah not that I didn’t appreciate it, but I called my boyfriend, not one of my besties.”
He nodded, “Yeah I got you.” 
Margo ran her hand under the water to check the temp again.  A strangely deep voice made her look back to her phone,
“Just relax and put the scissors down lil mama, you got this.” 
Miles burst into cackles immediately after and Margo gave up watching him in dumbfounded silence and just side-eyed him as he laughed.
“I cannot believe you let that come out of your mou- I should block you.”
He tried to stifle his snickers but when he realized he couldn't he just muted himself.
Margo shook her head and got her deep conditioner and detangling brush ready. 
Miles piped up again when he controlled himself. 
“I think the water bill has reached a hundred dollars now, you can stick your head under.”
Margo straight-faced him and tucked his lips in so he wouldn’t laugh.
“That’s my last time, I swear.”
Margo shook her head, that would not be his last time. 
“I’m waiting for it to get hot.” 
He nodded, a smile forming on his face. 
He was always smiling when they were on the phone, it’s like his default expression. Margo pointed it out once and she thoroughly enjoyed how flustered he got.
She stopped staring at him, starting to feel warm at the embarrassing amount of time she spent doing so.
She sighed again, remembering the task at hand. 
“Here goes nothing.”
Margo lowered her hair under the flow of the water and brought the sprayer up to rinse out the back.
Miles couldn’t help himself. 
“Damn, you really went for it. Is that a tear or water?”
Margo refrained from throwing up her hand in a very rude gesture towards Miles, and instead tried to get a glimpse of her reflection in the mirror without getting water all over the counter. 
She groaned when she did manage to get a glimpse of her cheek.
“It’s neither. That’s the gel she used, oh my gosh I knew she used too much. I felt the build-up before she even finished.”
Miles watched, amused, as she rambled. His attention now solely on her and not the game he’d been playing.
“This is why I hate washing my hair. Water dripping down my neck and- OH MY GOSH IT GOT IN MY EAR!”
Miles muted himself yet again so she wouldn’t hear the loud laughing he started when she cut herself off.
By the time he got himself under control this time, Margo was already applying the deep conditioner in her.
Miles tilted his head and unmuted himself.
“Why’re you using that first?
She gave him a long look before she responded. He was not nearly slick enough to mute himself before she realized he was laughing.
“I’m doin’ it first because by deep conditioning and detangling before I shampoo, I have less shedding. Especially after braids.”
He nods though she suspects he doesn’t really get it.
Margo resumes her detangling process and Miles unpauses his game. They talk a little which mostly consists of Miles saying things to purposely annoy her and Margo rolling her eyes.
She sighs as she finishes her last twist and pulls a shower cap out of the cabinet and puts it on. 
Miles refocuses his attention on her when she calls his name.
“I’ll talk to you tomorrow or something if I haven’t gone crazy and actually buzzed all my hair off.’
Miles scrunched his face up, “You done or something, why’re you hanging up?”
“I’m not done but all I’m gonna do is sit like this for like an hour and a half.”
“So why hang up?”
“Because for an hour and a half I’m gonna be doing nothing but cleaning my room or something and then I’m just gonna rinse this out and shampoo.” Margo says it slowly because she’s actually confused that he’s not getting it.
Miles shrugs and fidgets with his hands a little. 
“Doesn’t really matter to me, I’m fine just keeping you company while you clean. I’d actually kind of like it.”
Margo tried really, really hard to tamp down the massive grin threatening to take over her face but she’s pretty sure she failed.
“Oh, really?”
Miles laughed at the way she cheesed into the camera and shook his head. 
“Yes really.”
“Well Mr. Morales let’s clean.”
Miles chuckles again. 
“Okay Ms. Kess.” 
Margo lets out an extremely embarrassing high-pitched giggle and clicks the light off in her bathroom. 
A couple hours later when she’s completely finished she catches Miles staring at her with a wide grin. 
“What?” She asks, fighting the urge to cover up her face.
He shrugs and his hand goes to rub at his neck, clearly embarrassed he was caught staring.
“Nothing, you just look really pretty.”
Margo tries not to squeal and instead covers up her wild grin with her hand.
“Even with my bonnet and this stupid retainer.”
Miles shrugs again. 
“Yup.”
“Well you look handsome too.”
His eyes widen and he quickly looks away, Margo laughs but tries to lower it when she remembers how late it is.
“I appreciate it Ms. Kess.”
She smirks and with confidence she definitely does not have she replies, “That’s Mrs. Morales to you.”
She hurriedly hangs up on him, barely catching the squawk he lets out and the flustered expression on his face.
Her phone falls to her bed as Margo rolls from side to side with her hands covering her face. 
She grabs her pillow and stuffs her face in it when she hears her phone buzz.
After kicking her feet and squealing into her pillow for a ridiculous amount of time she opens their text thread.
goodnight Mrs. Morales💜
This time the squeal does not make it into her pillow.
Did I finish this at half past midnight? yeah but mind your business
20 notes · View notes
andypantsx3 · 2 years
Text
incendiary | 3 | bakugou x reader
Tumblr media
pairing: Bakugou Katsuki / Reader
length: 4.9k of ~23k / 3rd of 8 chapters
summary: When you accidentally go viral in defense of quirkless people, an extremist group puts a target on your back. Pro hero Dynamight is the last person you want watching it.
tags: romance, enemies to lovers, sexual tension, light hurt/comfort
warnings: themes of discrimination (please see note in fic masterpost), canon typical violence, eventual smut, aged up characters
notes: A HUGE thank you to my sensitivity readers @cat-slippered​ and @darkenedniqhts​. They’re both incredible writers and lovely human beings, please check their fics out!! Please see my notes in the fic masterpost for more!
Tumblr media
In the morning, you woke to the slam of pots in the kitchen.
You shot up, instantly getting tangled up in your covers. You struggled against their tight coiling, letting out a strangled hrgh noise before overbalancing and slipping over the side of the couch, landing hard on your shoulder.
An ugly chuckle issued from the kitchen. You poked your head up to catch a scarlet eye turned in your direction, the maliciously pleased curl of a full mouth. You stared for a moment, disoriented, wondering who the hot blonde was, why he was so familiar, and what he was doing in your house.
Then he turned towards you more fully, his eyes flickering judgmentally over you, and it all caught back up with you.
Ugh. Fucking Bakugou.
Part of you had hoped when you woke, this all would have proved a very detailed and specific nightmare. But the nightmare was still there, glaring at you while he neatly chopped vegetables and set a pot to boiling on the stove, still wearing that stupid black tank that showed off the meticulously honed, deadly perfection of his biceps.
Double ugh.
You groaned and sank back to the ground, biting down some choice swear words. Bakugou ignored you, the only sounds from the kitchen the quick thump of his knife against a cutting board, the snap and hiss of the grill drawer being turned on.
You slowly extricated yourself from your tangled heap of blankets, beating a bleary but hasty retreat to the bathroom to escape his presence, grabbing a change of clothes and your toiletries on the way.
In the bathroom, Bakgou had apparently already set out his own—a toothbrush, toothpaste, floss, a razor, and a small travel size container of shaving cream were laid away behind the mirror. On the shelves, a small zippered pouch in a deep gray lay next to a stack of fluffy towels.
You couldn’t help but peek inside, intrigued by the idea of Bakugou Katsuki having personal effects like an actual human being. Inside, a comb, some kind of expensive smelling hair gel, and spares of the items behind the mirror peered back at you. It all seemed weirdly domestic, weirdly intimate, and you quickly backed away, turning on the shower instead. You flung off your clothes, scattering them all over the bathroom in your haste to get into the shower and away from Bakugou’s things.
Of course Bakugou was a living, breathing human (demon), which you had quickly realized yesterday. But it still threw you for a loop to realize he was more than the person you saw on TV, or even the spitting, snarling gremlin who’d stood in the detective’s office and vehemently refused to protect you. He existed outside those spaces—he brushed his teeth and shaved his face and did his hair like every other human man on earth. He apparently also chopped vegetables very expertly and had enough presence of mind to start grilling things early in the morning. There were moments, domestic and intimate, that he had, just like everyone else.
You jumped into the shower, disliking the thought of him as anything other than a feral garbage rat. A quirkist, feral garbage rat, at that.
When you emerged, Bakugou had laid out his breakfast at the coffee table, sitting cross legged on the floor. It looked like a full, traditional spread—with grilled fish, miso, rice, marinated vegetables, and neatly sliced tamago—and it smelled divine. Your stomach rumbled. Bakugou’s lips turned up in a smirk but he didn’t say anything as you passed.
You poked into the kitchen hopefully, only to find all the dishes scrubbed and drying in the dish rack. It had been too much to hope you could have snuck leftovers out of the pan while he wasn’t looking. He had probably planned for this, the bastard.
You dug around in the fridge and the cabinet instead, taking quick stock of things. There were a lot of fresh vegetables in the crisper drawer, a bowl of assorted fruit on the counter, and a large variety of spices lurking in the cabinets. In the back of a cabinet, you unearthed a box of nearly-expired granola bars. You ferreted a canned coffee from the door of the fridge and an apple from the fruit bowl, and disappeared back into your room, unwilling to lay out your inferior spread in front of Bakugou.
Back on your bed, you arranged your spoils on top of the covers and dug around in your backpack for your phone. It was near-dead, choked with thousands of texts, and the notification badges were piling up on all your social media apps. You spent a couple minutes mindlessly scrolling through everything, deleting whatever wasn’t from a contact you already knew.
The majority of your real texts were from Megumi—some from yesterday when you had been at the police station, but several more had piled up overnight.
MEGUMI ✨🍹🌴💕 is bakugou there with u still 11:58 PM what does he sleep in 11:58 PM have u seen him in his underwear yet 12:07 AM if u send me pics i will sell them to the girls on our floor 12:09 AM i’ll only charge u a 20% cut 12:18 AM
You laughed, cracking open your coffee. At least one thing was still normal.
I’m in, you texted back, smiling. I’ll let you know as soon as I’ve got the goods.
You also had a smattering of emails from your professors with links to where your lectures would stream in the upcoming week, and a reminder from your least favorite of the bunch that your Ethics paper would still be due on Tuesday regardless of your circumstances. He seemed to imply in not so many words that if you had enough time to get messy and go viral on YouTube, you also had ample time to get your paper written.
His message startled you into a stream of swears, and you finished your breakfast quickly. You dug out your textbook and laptop, clicking into the half-finished document.
The morning passed in a blur of frantic typing, hasty annotations, and some lurking about on Wikipedia articles that explained the concepts much more clearly than either your textbook or your professor had. It was well past lunch by the time you finished up, proofing it one final time and sending it off to your professor one whole day early, thank you very much.
The shower was running when you emerged from your room, and a small mountain of exercise equipment had been unearthed from somewhere, now laying stacked up against the far wall of the living room. A set of bright orange resistance bands were draped over two disturbingly large weights, and a yoga mat was neatly rolled up behind them. A sweet, tangy scent like burnt caramel hung vaguely in the air.
You wondered at the thought of someone like Bakugou doing something that was supposed to be as chill as yoga. Although, you supposed he needed to maintain some degree of flexibility if he ever hoped to reach back and remove the enormous fucking stick from his ass.
You went into the kitchen, digging around in the cabinets for the jar of peanut butter you’d seen earlier, slathering it onto two slices of bread in a hastily prepared meal. You pulled a banana out of the fruit bowl, and retrieved the entire box of granola bars for good measure, then beat a hasty retreat to your room lest you run into Bakugou coming out of the shower.
You might not have concerned yourself, however, because no sooner had you started in on your meal than the door to your room banged open, rebounding off the wall with a violent slam. You jerked, startling, accidentally flinging a piece of bread onto your covers.
“You missing something, princess?” A familiar voice growled.
Bakugou stood in your doorway, slightly pink and flushed from the heat of the shower. The ends of those blonde spikes drooped with moisture, dark at the roots, and a few very distracting, very horrible beads of moisture glinted wetly at his collarbones and in the hollow divots of his muscles, darkening the fabric of his shirt at the collar.
Your mouth went kind of dry and your skin prickled with something. Irritation, probably.
“Well?” he demanded.
It took you a moment to realize he wasn’t just standing in your doorway for nothing. Your eyes trailed over his shoulder, down the length of a faintly glistening arm to where he held something clutched in his fist. In his hand, a horrifyingly familiar gray fabric stared back at you—your bra that you’d flung off in your haste to get into the shower, and then promptly forgot about. You shot out of your bed in a blind panic, grabbing frantically for it.
Bakugou’s mouth pulled up into a wicked smirk, and he lifted your bra just out of reach as you approached, watching you grab for it with no small amount of relish.
“Mother fuck—just—give me that—!” you demanded, swiping for it again.
“Not gonna say thank you, brat?” he asked. Red eyes fixed pointedly to your face. “First I’m a babysitter and now you think I’m your damn maid too?”
You could have exploded. Dynamight, actual pro hero Dynamight—human, demon, garbage rat, quirk supremacist Dynamight, was holding your bra—and holding it hostage. And clearly enjoying himself for the first time since he’d gotten here, too.
You grabbed his arm with both hands, yanking it down with an embarrassingly extreme amount of effort on your part. You quickly plucked your bra from his fingers, whipping it behind your back.
“What are you, in first grade?” You demanded, rounding on him.
Bakugou didn’t appear at all chastened. “Think I liked the pink one better, princess,” he said.
A wild noise somewhere between a horrified gasp and an incredulous laugh erupted from you. You quickly flung your bra behind the bed, then pressed your hands to his chest, shoving him out the door and slamming it closed after him. An ugly snort issued from behind the wood grain, dissolving into a bright peal of genuine laughter. Bakugou’s steps sounded incredibly smug as he padded back towards his own room, his mission of humiliating you clearly accomplished.
The fucking asshole.
Of course he’d find something like this funny. It was probably completely fucking farcical from his perspective that quirkless girls had all the same body parts attached as quirked ones—minus the quirk-specific ones, like wings or horns or whatever the hell. If he could just do you a favor, crawl into a hole and die.
You avoided him for the rest of the evening, hiding away in your room and powering through assignments to keep your mind off of things, answering the occasional text from Megumi and your other friends, and working your way through a few more granola bars. Bakugou, mercifully, didn’t make a reappearance until dinnertime, and you were able to avoid him by keeping to your room, a stack of textbooks wedged up against your door lest he try to barge in again.
You barely saw him over the next few days, either, the two of you falling into some kind of avoidance-based routine.
Every morning, Bakugou would get up obscenely early and make himself a variety of breakfasts that smelled so good they always roused you from your own sleep. You’d hurriedly dart into the kitchen once you heard him leave, grab whatever non-perishable was tucked away in the cabinets—be it granola bars, cereal, or more peanut butter–a random fruit from the fruit bowl, and disappear back into your room.
While you dialed into your morning lectures, Bakugou would do what sounded like several hours of workouts in the living room. You didn’t dare peek for fear of seeing all that straining muscle on display—your circumstances were already dire enough. Then he’d make himself lunch, which always smelled just as irresistible as breakfast, and then he’d shower. You’d again dart out to the kitchen to scavenge, sometimes managing to boil a ramen packet, sometimes finding conbini lunches packed away in the fridge.
The only variety was when, once a week, a plainclothes hero from Genius Office would show up with a haul of groceries. Bakugou and the hero would make conversation in low tones–although sometimes it was high tones with a lot of insult flinging, particularly when a haughty-looking blonde with pointed features and judgmental gray eyes showed up–he seemed to know exactly which buttons to press to get Bakugou to almost blow your cover, and seemed to very much enjoy pressing them. You gathered just enough to learn that this was the infamous Monoma, who Bakugou had wanted to fob you off on.
He seemed almost just as annoying as Bakugou, but at this point you’d have taken anyone instead.
In the afternoon, you’d do your homework, or attend afternoon lectures. Sometimes you’d chat with friends, sometimes you’d call into your TA’s office hours just to speak to someone, but it all paled in comparison to going outside, having fresh air, and actually speaking to real people.
Over the course of a few weeks, a feeling began to mount in your gut, creeping into your shoulders, a slow, insidious kind of tension. As the days went on you felt more brittle—like a dried out twig pressed under a boot, straining, almost ready to snap.
It didn’t help that you hadn’t heard much on when you could return home. As far as you could tell, the churn around your video was already starting to die down, and Megumi had told you people had stopped turning up to the dorm looking for you. But there was no word from either the police or any hint of a change from the heroes at Genius Office.
It was just you, still trapped alone with Bakugou, who was beginning to irk you more and more each day.
Bakugou mostly ignored you, which you had wanted at first, given the pains you were taking to avoid him too, but even that started to annoy you. But you were so starved for human company, real human company, at this point that even he would do. Eventually, you abandoned your project of avoiding him, going out of your way to cross his path.
Pretty quickly, you found the one thing guaranteed to nettle him enough that he spoke to you.
“What the fuck are you doing?” He demanded one afternoon, watching you incredulously over one powerful shoulder. He’d been hovering over the stove, pan-frying beef and veggies for gyudon when you’d joined him. You’d dug out a potato from the pantry, scrubbed it down, and then poked it over with a fork and stuck it in the microwave.
Bakugou watched you intently, wearing an expression like you were committing a war crime right in front of him.
“I’m making lunch,” you replied, nosing around in the fridge for butter and some melty cheese.
“A microwaved potato?” He demanded, in the tones of an interrogating officer.
“I used my brain too much,” you said, thinking back to your morning lecture. “I’m starving. Granola is not gonna cut it.”
He continued staring, his mouth a grim line. Like you had literally murdered someone and he’d caught you standing over the body. The microwave beeped and you went to it and turned the potato over.
Bakugou was still staring when you turned back around.
“Your beef is gonna burn,” you told him.
“You’re gonna get fucking scurvy,” he informed you imperiously. “What the fuck are you doing.”
The last part was not phrased like a question, more like an accusation.
“It’s called college cooking,” you told him, your hackles raising defensively. So what if it wasn’t a full, traditional spread? Some people had lectures to attend and homework to do and a death threat to contend with! And also some people had never actually had the time or resources to learn to make a full, traditional spread! Some people were just hungry and needed some carbs in their fucking stomach!
Classist asshole.
Actually, make that classist, quirkist asshole. Knowing him, he probably thought this yet another symptom of your quirklessness, another deficiency borne of your genetic inferiority. The disdain on his handsome face spoke volumes here. It was just a motherfucking potato. People made potatoes all the time.
As soon as the microwave dinged again, you decorated your meal with a pat of butter and some cheese, and scurried over to take Bakugou’s usual spot at the coffee table, seating yourself there defiantly.
Bakugou looked up from where he was scraping his meal out of the pan, scarlet eyes narrowing. “Get out of my spot, brat.”
“You don’t own it,” you informed him haughtily, digging into your potato.
“And you think you do, princess?” He asked.
His tone grated on you, like sandpaper on skin. You looked up at him, glaring. All of a sudden it felt like the tension of the last few weeks was rising to a head, Bakugou the only human outlet you had for your emotions. Your hands curled into fists beneath the table, digging little half-moon indents into your palms.
“You know what,” you said flatly. “I’m a princess? Fine, then I command you to shut the fuck up.”
The pan clattered into the sink, and suddenly Bakugou was rounding the counter, mouth pulled up in a snarl.
“You want to play it like that, princess?” He demanded as he prowled closer.
For a wild moment you had the thought that he really meant business. You considered grabbing your potato and lobbing it at him like some kind of butter-soaked hand grenade. But then he stopped before you, his socked feet stamping angrily on the yellow wooden floor. You stared, momentarily fascinated by the incongruity of a bloodthirsty pro hero in something so pedestrian as ankle socks.
“You talk a lot of shit for someone who can’t back themselves up, brat,” he pointed out, leaning down to catch your eye. His irises were blood red, fixed unwaveringly on your face. “You’re lucky I’m paid to protect your mouthy little ass.”
You scowled up at him. “Or what, you’d fucking join forces with Matsui? God, I’m so tired of your fucking indignation over having to protect someone you think is lower than dirt.”
Bakugou’s blonde brows knit together. “So you don’t get your fucking ass incinerated when you say stupid shit like this, shitstick. Like you fucking understand anything about anything.”
“I understand plenty,” you informed him tartly.
He growled. “You understand less than nothing, you fucking idiot. Shit like this is how you got yourself targeted in the first place. Now shut the hell up, and get the fuck out of my seat.”
You did get out of his seat, but only so you could shoot to your feet, stretching to your full height and pointing a finger in his stupid face.
“Let’s get one thing clear, asshole,” you pronounced tightly. “I am not going to shut the fuck up. I’m not going to keep my mouth shut and eyes down, scurrying around like some meek little mouse who’s just lucky to fucking be here. I might be quirkless, but I am a human fucking person, who deserves all of the same respect as everyone else. And no one—not you, not Matsui, and not those quirkist assholes from campus—get to make me feel otherwise!”
In the corner of your vision, you saw his hands flex, clenching and unclenching reflexively like he was barely stopping himself from putting them around your neck.
God, and wasn’t that just so typical? Your school years had been filled with this same type of little asshole too, who just itched to get their hands on you, to make themselves feel superior by bringing you down.
All of them were exactly the fucking same.
“You know what,” you said, suddenly exhausted and exasperated. “You can have your seat. You can have the whole fucking apartment. I’m fucking over this.”
You whirled around, stomping over to the door. You stamped on your shoes angrily, flinging open the door, and stormed out into the fluorescence of the hallway.
“Oi—” Bakugou’s voice chased after you, but you slammed the door before he could say more, stomping over to the stairwell. You fumed as you made your way down and back onto the street, almost blind with rage, uncaring of where you were going.
The afternoon air was cool as it washed over you, chilling some of your anger instantly. You let out a heavy huff, taking in the street as you stepped out onto the pavement. A few people trudged slowly down either side, and the scraggly trees waved wearily in an afternoon breeze. At the end of the street, a group of students were ducking into the convenience store you’d seen when you first arrived.
You set out in their direction, following the sidewalk until it spat you out in front of the store. You made your way inside, beelining for the refrigerators. A cool drink would help, and maybe some kind of snack. You hadn’t finished your potato before Bakugou started acting like a fucking asshat, and your stomach grumbled at you discontentedly.
You took your time browsing the shelves, selecting a bottled water and a pre-wrapped sandwich, toying with the idea of also getting yourself dessert for your troubles.
It was only as you deposited your items on the counter that you realized you’d stormed out without any of your personal effects—including your wallet and phone. You almost groaned out loud. You did not want to have to walk back in there just yet, didn’t want to face another round of Bakugou’s incredulous ire, his sanctimonious judgment.
“Sorry, I’ll be right back,” you muttered to the cashier, moving to exit the store, just as two men turned the corner of a shelf. One man was tall and lithe, sporting jeans and a dark blazer that washed him out in the fluorescence of the convenience store. The other was smaller and darker, with lilac irises, dressed in a gray coat.
You might have ignored them completely had they not both froze when they saw you. There was a beat of stunned silence, and then a snarl overtook the smaller man’s face.
“You’re that drunk bitch from the video,” he spat, with such force that it made you jump.
You stepped back, alarmed. You couldn’t tell what had surprised you more, his recognition or his tone. The taller man’s face pinched, as if he too had finally realized who you were, and wasn't pleased.
“What do you think you’re doing here?” The smaller man demanded, stepping forward into the space you had just yielded.
You bristled, put off by his aggressive manner. “Getting a drink, though I don’t see how that’s any of your business,” you said tightly.
“You wouldn’t know a thing about minding your own business, you fucking freak,” the man said, advancing further. You turned to look at the cashier, disturbed by this man’s agitation, but the cashier looked similarly unnerved. He’d scooted back from the counter, pressed up against the rows of medicine behind him.
He’d be no help to you, it seemed.
You chewed your lip, resigned. Fine then, you could handle this on your own. You were used to this.
You turned back to the pair of men, your shoulders squaring. “Pretty sure my right to exist is absolutely my business,” you said acidly. Your hands balled into fists at your sides, fingernails digging tightly into the skin of your palms. “Now why don’t you mind yours?”
The shorter man seemed to hesitate for a moment, eyes tracking across your face as if in some confusion. But then the moment was gone, and his expression went murderous. His lilac irises flashed with some unnatural light, and then skin on the back of your neck prickled with foreboding. Your skin shivered into little goosebumps as the air around you changed, suddenly becoming thinner, sharper, stranger…
The feeling was unnatural, the texture of the air beyond anything you’d felt before. You knew what was happening instantly.
A quirk.
He was about to use a quirk on you.
Blind panic settled over you. You hesitated, unsure whether you should duck, hide, or rush him—when the door banged open, slamming into the glass store front with a crack that shattered a ragged line right up the window. There was a whirlwind of black and blonde, and before your eyes could properly register what you were seeing, Bakugou was there, gripping the shorter man’s wrist so hard you could hear the bones in it creak.
“Drop the fucking quirk now and I won’t blow your hand straight off,” Bakugou demanded, even as you realized you were having trouble drawing in a breath, the air around you almost resisting you. Your eyes went wide, and you stepped back, taking another frantic breath, only to be met with the same resistance.
Your fingers fluttered in panic, and you stumbled.
“NOW,” Bakugou snarled, the man’s jacket starting to hiss and smoke, a white light flickering under Bakugou’s palm.
Almost immediately, the air flooded back into your lungs, almost choking you with its force, and you staggered against the counter, winded.
Bakugou twisted, a movement almost too fast for you to follow, wrenching the man’s arm behind him. In a flash, he’d shoved both men against a shelf, and was locking a quirk suppressor around their wrists, feeding it through the steel caging of the shelving.
Your vision swam strangely as you watched him, puffing in air.
“Call the fucking police right the fuck now,” he barked at the cashier. You heard a clatter behind you, the rattle of several pill bottles dropping to the ground as the cashier presumably dislodged himself, rushing to obey. The plastic clicking of phone keys followed quickly.
You watched as Bakugou tightened the restraint, a weird weakness making itself known around your knees. You gripped the counter tightly, refusing to sink to the ground, either in front of the men or Bakugou.
Bakugou finished up quickly and strode over, his expression tight.
“When they get here, tell them to contact Genius Office,” he demanded, looking over your shoulder at the cashier. He gripped your shirt at your shoulder, hauling you off the counter. “Come on, you little idiot, we’re getting you back to the safehouse. Don’t know what the fuck you were thinking, coming here.”
His tug had you tripping over your own feet, and you reached out to grab him for stability, gripping the front of his shirt in a frantic fistful. Your vision lurched again.
Bakugou paused, frowning, and looked you over. “He hurt you somewhere, brat?” he said, stilling. His grip shifted under your elbows, propping you up. “Your leg?”
“I’m fine,” you garbled out, trying to get your legs under you again. They felt strangely stiff, like you might accidentally snap them if you didn’t stand exactly straight. You tested your step, sucking in another large breath as you did. Your skin still prickled, as though the man’s quick was still active…
But that couldn’t be right…
You’d seen Bakugou put a quirk suppressor on him, hadn’t you?
Bakugou’s head dipped, and he looked you in the face, scarlet eyes picking over you intently. You startled at the proximity of his face to yours, almost stumbling back. He made a grunting sound, and then suddenly the floor went out from under you. You gripped him in panic as he hefted you into his arms, tucking you neatly against his front.
“What the fuck are you doing?” You gasped. Your voice sounded strange to your ears, almost slurred.
Bakugou shouldered his way out of the door, maneuvering you through it with a surprising amount of care. “You’re in shock, princess. Pupils dilated like a fucking lunatic.”
The insult registered first, and you wondered if you should be offended, until his full message sank in. “Shock? I’m not in shock,” you informed him, motioning for him to put you down.
Bakugou ignored you, striding down the street back towards the safehouse with no more trouble than if you were a bag of groceries. “Pipe the fuck down, brat. We’re gonna get you inside.”
You made an affronted noise, which quickly turned into a groan as Bakugou shifted you to key in the code at the door.
The last thing you remembered was passing through the front door. And then the world around you prickled gray at the edges.
And suddenly, without warning, everything went dark.
540 notes · View notes
eskumii · 2 years
Note
Hey could you do a piece where eren Yeager spanks the reader and cuts her hair as a punishment? Love your work!
yandere!eren yeagar punishes his darling + aftercare hcs
Tumblr media Tumblr media
TITLE: " WHAT A GOOD GIRL " — navi.
A/N: first req, tysm anonnie!! :D a little nsfw/intense sadistic themes (?) + s4 lore, kinda. this is soo much longer than i originally planned it to be loll, forgive me, i'm in love with meanie eren. >v>
PAIRING: yandere!eren yeager x reader
CHARACTERS: s4 eren yeager (19), reader (19)
Tumblr media
☆ eren is definitely the type to punish his darling this way. everyone knows he has a temper that causes him to do things he sometimes doesn't think through but, as he's aged, his maturity doesn't allow him to be entirely delusional. as a yandere, eren is very strict and protective of his darling, especially one who's weaker and smaller than him.
☆ you're not sure how it happened, but you met eren for the first time when he had just arrived at marley. you offered to show him around town and even invited him into your home for tea with the cute twirl of your hair around your finger. how could he say no? you were being nice and of course he knew that—you were just being too nice.
☆ eren took it upon himself to start visiting you frequently. at first it was a couple times a week, then it was every couple days, then it was everyday. he ended up confiding in you about a lot of things, though he kept it vague, you were always there to hold his hand and offer him soothing words.
☆ the anger he felt towards the marleyans began to ebb away because of you, but it was sooner replaced with a bitterness at how people like you were so kind and trusting of people you didn't even know. you should really know better—eren's going to be the one to teach you, of course.
☆ it takes little to make eren snap. along with the stress of all his personal scheming, seeing you talking to another man outside of your apartment building and twirling your hair around your finger abashedly is a sure way to get him absolutely pissed. his apathetic mask breaks and, soon, his towering figure is hastily storming over.
☆ "oh, eren! i didn't know you were coming... today..." you trail off when you notice his dark expression. it scares you and you step back once he comes up behind the guy hitting on you, who is also still babbling away obliviously despite the apparent danger that lurks just an arm's length away.
☆ next thing you know, the guy is flung to the floor and eren delivers a skull-fracturing kick to his head. the guy goes limp immediately. is he dead? horrified, you nearly scream, but eren quickly grabs you by the arm and drags you into the building up to your apartment room (which you didn't lock up, again. aren't you just so hopeless without him?). a few bystanders gaze curiously at the commotion, but no one bothers to intervene.
☆ eren locks the door and allows you to crumple to the kitchen floor as he searches through your drawers for something. while he's doing that, you manage to gather the courage to shout at him, demanding to know what his problem is and to get out of your house. he ignores you completely.
☆ turning back around, he crouches down to where you're near hyperventilating on the floor to twirl his finger through a strand of your hair, like how you would do every so often when you were around him. "you love your hair, don't you?" he whispers, green eyes brimming with some apologetic sentiment you don't quite understand.
☆ eren suddenly clamps a hand over your mouth and pushes you back against a bottom cabinet, his long legs moving to straddle you. your eyes are blown wide as he reveals the tool glinting in his other hand to be a pair of sharp, metal scissors. he then begins to chop your hair off, mercilessly cutting chunk after chunk with reckless abandon. you feel like throwing up.
☆ you start kicking at him, screaming into his palm for him to stop, shoving against his muscled torso and doing anything—anything at all to get away from him. he starts apologizing, over and over, a slightly pained expression twisting his handsome features as he continues to hack off your once well-kept tresses. it's for your own good, he repeats.
☆ when you're near defeated, eren stops. your hair is all over the place. you're both breathing heavily and the silence that blankets the room is almost palpable. you wonder what happened to the eren you met just a few weeks ago. you don't know what went wrong but if there's one thing you know for sure, it's that you need to run.
☆ unfortunately, it seems like eren is already several steps ahead of you. by the time he's gotten off of you and you're pulling yourself up to make your way to the front door, he's already dragged a chair from your dining table into the threshold of the kitchen entrance and blocked your only path to freedom. you're doomed.
☆ you gasp as he grabs you by the forearm and manhandles you until you're bent over his lap. he wrestles both your wrists into one hand behind your back and steps over your dangling legs with one of his own. you don't even have time to fight back as he takes a fistful of your ankle-length skirt and pulls it up, exposing the plump swell of your booty clad in lace-lined panties.
☆ at this point your face is flushed, eyes brimming with tears and body stiffening as he begins to gently knead your soft flesh. you don't even know what to say; he's not saying anything, either. with the way his hands skillfully trace over your skin in tantalizing patterns, you hardly have half the mind to process what's going on anymore.
☆ finally, though, you regain your ability to speak when you feel his fingers hook underneath the band of your panties, threatening to pull them down. "no! p.. please stop, eren! i just—i don't know what i did to make you so m-"
☆ slap!
☆ you squeak as eren suddenly brings his hand down, leaving a biting sting on your right cheek. "tell me, [y/n]," eren rasps, burning holes into the back of your head with an unjustified frustration. "do you let every man into your life so easily like this? hm?"
☆ you let out a cry as he lands another harsh smack; your struggling is almost pointless as his grip tightens on your wrists. you grit your teeth at the burning it leaves and you weakly kick your feet in a last-ditch, futile attempt at resistance.
☆ he spanks you again, harder this time, and you can barely stifle the noises you're making at the pain. the calloused man leans down close to your ear, his warm breath tickling you as he caresses your inner thigh. "answer me."
☆ you see him raise his hand to strike you again out of the corner of your eyes. fearfully, you blurt out an answer in hopes it will appease him and free you from this embarrassing position. "no! only you... just you, eren."
☆ you can't see the way his eyes brighten and the smile that stretches across his face, ear-to-ear. he bends over to plant a kiss on the top of your head, a deep chuckle rumbling in his chest at your response. "yeah? that's my girl."
☆ and then he begins to spank you, ruthlessly. he makes you count; cruelly, he restarts at least three times when you aren't able to keep up. he'll pause every few spanks to give you a break, fingers tenderly dipping between your thighs or fondly tracing over the rawness of your skin. you've given up trying to get away at this point—eren overpowers you easily.
☆ by the time you count to twenty, you're sobbing. tears and snot dampen the leg of eren's jeans but he doesn't seem to mind. he lets go of your aching wrists and watches as they fall limp at your sides, completely helpless under his control. he carefully twists you around and slips his arms underneath you to pick you up and carry you to your bedroom.
☆ eren gingerly lays you on your side then sits next to you, cooing soft praises and sweet nothings in an attempt to calm you down: "you did so well for me angel, you know that?" "shh, don't cry anymore, it's all over now." "i'm so sorry baby. i didn't want to hurt you, i'm only doing what's best for you."
☆ he'll tuck you into the blankets and wipe your face clean with a warm, damp cloth, cradling your head and shushing you until you stop crying. you don't have the strength to push him away or even say anything; you can hardly look him in the eyes. still, eren peppers your sweaty forehead with kisses, not at all bothered by your lack of response or reaction.
☆ "did you learn your lesson, [y/n]? i don't want you to act that way for any other man," eren mutters, reaching over to grab your face and forcing you to look in his direction. "understand?"
☆ he squishes your cheeks, amused at how cute it makes you look. you're ashamed and embarrassed but with the way his other hand trails along your hip, silently warning you as it brushes against your sore backside, you can only nod in submission at his command.
☆ eren gives you a small smile, eyes softening. "what a good girl."
Tumblr media
758 notes · View notes