#anyway this took more of a fandom focus than I thought it would

[dekusleftsock]

I thought everyone was exaggerating when people kept bringing up the whole “bakugou says he’s Kacchan bc of kaminari” thing, but they actually believe that… what?

WHAT

Literally how do you guys function

AND THEY CALL ME DELULU???????

It’s such a stretch too. Like “oh yeah he said Kacchan no Bakugou in this movie” ITS NOT EVEN IN THE MANGA HELLO???

The whole reason Kaminari calls Katsuki Kacchan is because he’s making fun of him. It’s poking fun at the fact that Katsuki can’t say anything or get mad at Kaminari because then it would raise the question, “Well why can Midoriya say it?”

He literally side eyes him every time he does it but ultimately doesn’t react because he can’t. He can’t if he wants to keep up the act that he is uninterested in what Izuku represents, who he is.

SO WHY, IN THE EVER LOVING FUCK, WOULD IT BE KAMINARI?

WHO is present in this battle?

WHO is the person that made eye contact with him the second he woke up?

WHO is the one that grabbed his hand immediately upon Katsuki flinging himself towards them??

I don’t think THEY even believe it either, I think it’s just some way to cope and explain away the fact that this moment is inherently romantic.

Because I don’t think he’s making fun of the name Kacchan, I think he’s wearing it proudly. I don’t think it’s a joke at all. It’s a joke in the disbelieving way—the way you act when you’ve made an enormous accomplishment or won some prize, and you just can’t help but act absolutely insane at the fact. Because it’s funny that you’re here, in this situation. It’s hilarious in that disbelieving way.

Because he’s laughing at the truth, he’s been laughing at nothing this ENTIRE CHAPTER.

“Ouch! Haha! I’m so fast!”

“I can’t even stop! Ha! Ouch!”

Note: (I’m not using the official translations because for some reason they lack the maniacal crazed laughter and I’m confused as to why?? I even checked with pikahlua and they specified that there was laughing so…. I’m confused.)

What’s even weirder about this is the fact that afo also says (in pikahlua’s translations) “just who is this brat?!” Instead of “what is wrong with him” which implies less crazed bakugou ness imo. Confused as to why, again.

Because this can’t be happening.

Now, I know it could very well be him teasing afo and calling him dumb, saying basically “you’re too young/old to even know how to pronounce my name, use Kacchan instead like the child you are.” Especially since in the context of names like Katsuki’s, he has that tsu sound that can be hard for children to pronounce. (I’m not 100% on this but I’m pretty sure that the u sound is also meant to be silent since it’s a double consonant. So Katsuki’s name is technically pronounced “Ka-ts-ki”)

BUT IDK I THINK HES JUST FUCKED AND A LITTLE CRAZY RN!

That maniacal laughter at the fact that he’s in pain, the disbelief that he may even surpass Izuku, to me it’s holding a double meaning. The meaning that afo is dumb and needs to be treated like the child he is, and the meaning behind the fact that it’s a name Izuku owns for him. That’s his.

It can be both.

It’s not fucking Kaminari. It was never Kaminari. Even if you don’t read it as the second definition it’s still not about Kaminari.

But it’s also undeniable that it has to do with Izuku some way some how.

I also believe that the western side of the fandom is making an extra big deal out of this because, to us, we don’t really have a proper understanding of what a nickname like Kacchan means in its cultural context.

We can TRY to understand, comparing it to endings with ie or y given to children, and then sometimes going with that nickname into adulthood, but it still has its own distinct cultural context. Because a name like “Gracie” over “Grace” does to an extent sound childish, but I have a feeling that -chan has its own childish feeling. There’s a reason none of Katsuki’s other friends in middle school call him Kacchan, and there’s a reason Kaminari decides to make fun of him for the name in the first place.

I just think it’s important to use our thinking brains before we start yapping about things we don’t quite understand yet :)

Like it’s so unbelievably important to understand that horikoshi won’t tell you what’s happening in his story and why, he’ll show you instead BECAUSE HES A GOOD FUCKING WRITER

If it was about Kaminari, he would have specified, but he didn’t. He showed you that Kacchan is Izuku’s nickname for Katsuki, and he showed you that Katsuki cared more about Izuku than he let on for a long time. Just like he showed you that Izuku pushes down his emotions, showed you that Izuku struggles with projection and anger, showed you that Ochako was the one with this crush and not Izuku, and showed you that the feelings he had about Katsuki were deeper than anyone had realized.

He showed you parallels, he specified the important parallels that you absolutely had to see as a viewer (ex toga and ochako), just as he showed you the ones that were more subtle but still there (ex toga and deku). He showed you the pieces, and that doesn’t make his character’s underdeveloped or unspecified, that’s just how writing fucking works. “Good writing” DOESNT MEAN that you have to be pulled along through your baby steps with your hand held, the fact that you don’t get it is on you. Reading comprehension is a learned skill that has to be practiced over and over again, and that is not the writers job. The writer is only supposed to deliver you their story, and however you decide to misconstrue that story is, and hear me out friends, on you.

So I’m sorry if I’m tired of hearing arguments like “toga is a predator and Horikoshi wrote her to be horny”… she’s supposed to represent love. I’m sorry if the representation he made of love was uncomfortable for you, but maybe that’s the point? Because she’s an outcast? Because she’s supposed to be hard to empathize with, but that we have to empathize in the first place?

Arguments like “Katsuki was referencing a joke about Kaminari bc Kaminari said this in this movie” is just about the largest fucking reach I’ve ever seen. And I know, I know that when bkdk eventually get their implied or canonical ending that people are going to be mad. They’ll blame shippers for pressuring him, or they’ll say he’s a bad writer, or they’ll send him homophobic slurs because “how dare the character I see myself in be gay”. And I’m done with the stupidity and lack of common god damn sense.

So if you are going to be upset by the fact that you’re going to be proven wrong, then I again say, it’s on you.

#bkdk #midoriya izuku #mha deku #bkdk brainrot #bakudeku #bakugou katsuki #bnha deku #mha analysis #deku midoriya #Katsuki You’re safe for now you won’t be hit like Izuku will #but you used to make me want to Detroit smash you into a wall 24/7 #ily…. #anyway the girls can do no wrong that’s why they aren’t getting hit :) Toga and Ochako are too good for you Izuku #THEYRE MY WIVES #MINE #anyway this took more of a fandom focus than I thought it would #it’s just like. wow. yeah. #i mean… I learned how to analyze the media I liked better over the past three or so years I’ve been lurking in this fandom #there’s nothing wrong with not getting it #but REFUSING TO? holy shit man. that’s. wow. #yeah.. I don’t like you if you refuse to read or think in other pov’s #because reading othe pov’s can genuinely be eye opening in so many ways #I STILL read izu//ocha analysis #I’m interested in how the mindset works #and to me it seems as though they analyze and consume it by reading it at its most base level #‘ochako likes deku and toga is going to show her that she can love him freely’ type of thing #and it ignores a lot of coded dialogue and the Japanese nuance within what is said #yk. unless it has to do with ‘Kacchan no Bakugou’. #ugh #they don’t even know that he’s saying it like ‘Kacchan of the bakugou clan’ bc hes making it some grand announcement and old timey

[voonroo]

Hell? [01]

⌐‣Hazbin Hotel + Bat-Like Teen Reader

Want more? Check out the masterlist↩︎

Want to chat? Check out my discord server↩︎

AUTHOR’S NOTE: YOOOOO SHOUT OUT TO @blueberrymuffin-6 FOR BEING THE FIRST PERSON TO GUESS THAT READER WOULD BE LIKE A BAT!!! I'm so happy someone picked up on my hints. I'm really excited to post this chapter considering how much love the first one got😭 THANK YOU GUYS SM FOR THE LOVE AND SUPPORT THE HAZBIN FANDOM HAS SHOWN FOR MY TEEN READER WRITINGS💝

Also I can't guarantee that there won't be triggering subjects in the future chapters!! There's nothing of that here yet and I will put warning when needed but you’ll only find something this chapter if you REALLY look.

I'd love to hear from you guys your speculations as well!! Send them through my inbox or contact me in discord!! I love interacting with you guys!!

My head hurts…

Am I lying down?

Is it raining?

Opening your eyes, you were met with a dull light to your right, everything else was dark. Rubbing your eyes, you groggily sat up.

You could see, but the light to your right was actually making it hard… You felt a light weight on your head and slight pain in your back. You looked down, you had… fur?

Taking deep breaths, you closed your eyes. You could hear everything so well. From the sound of your heart, to the rain outside.

Where am I?

How did I get here?

Considering that you couldn't remember anything, you felt strangely calm. Like a blanket was over your head and you were blocking out the world around you.

The rain was nice… soft blankets, a plushie? What was it...? It was dark? I had a flashlight, a book? And whatever the plushie was…

A sudden knock interrupted your thoughts. The noise caught you so off guard you physically jumped, you tried to look at the door as you heard the knob turning.

“Oh! You're awake!” You heard a quick patter of footsteps coming in your direction, before a blob entered your vision- or what little vision you had anyway. You couldn't make out the shape in front of you, even with your eyes wide open. There was… red? Or maybe pink? You couldn't tell. Your eyes darted around, and your breathing picked up.

“Hey now- You're all tense! What are you anyways?” The blog had a cheery voice, rather high-pitched. It hurt your ears. You could feel a small hand grab at your arm- rubbing the fur.

“Nifty!” Another sudden noise made you jump. Your body tensing up in a panic. You couldn't hear the rain anymore even if it was so close… You could only hear your heart beating quickly and your uneven breathing.

Then, there were hands cupping your face, a calm, quiet voice accompanying it.

“Hey, calm down.” On instinct, you took a deep breath. Were you holding your breath before? Or were you breathing too rapidly? Where were you again? Sitting up right? Wait- it's raining… that's right… it's raining.

“Are you okay?” The voice to the hands cupping your cheeks spoke again. You could barely focus your eyes enough to see more than just gray. Did the voice have a… wait- the voice asked me a question-

“I-I can't see…” You almost didn't recognize your own voice. It came out so quietly, hardly audible.

You could have sworn you saw the gray blob furrow their eyebrows.

“What's your name?”

“I don't… I don't know?”

The calm the voice was deemed Vaggie.

Vaggie described herself as having long grey hair, grey skin- which you initially found weird- and a pink X over her left eye.

Vaggie told you that the loud, almost squeaky voice that you first heard was Nifty. She also told you where you were and what had happened for you to be here.

You had previously run into one of their friends named… Angel Dust? And apparently, passed out? Then he brought you here, and… here is… I don't remember…

You do remember Vaggie telling you that there were other people here and they were made aware of your existence as well.

Vaggie was also kind enough to explain that you were in hell… she also took the creative liberties in describing to you what you looked like.

“Well… You did take on the appearance of a bat- which is normal, it's normal for people to take on animal-like appearances in hell. For instance, we have someone here who takes on deer antlers and someone who has fur like you but looks like a cat… But you have these ears above your head, small wing protruding from your back, and… foggy eyes-”

The two of you spent time making the connections. The big bat-like ears atop your head gave you really good hearing, and the wings on your back were the cause of your back pain, (and the fact that you had been lying on them) and your foggy eyes contributed to your lack of sight. You took on the appearance of a bat.

The two of you tried to answer Vaggie’s earlier question from before about your name, but to no avail. She had to force you to stop trying to figure it out when you started getting worked up. You did come to the conclusion that you were very young- at least very young to be in hell. Guessing that you were around 15 years of age. Maybe a little younger or maybe a little older, but it felt right enough.

Or maybe you guys had settled on that answer as you dozed back off. The rain hadn't let up and with all this new information to really process, Vaggie let you rest. The clock was growing near to striking morning anyways.

Word Count: 817

A/N: I've also made the tag #voonroo’s bat-like reader for you guys to use as well if you make any posts on it!!

#gender neutral reader #x reader #no use of y/n #voonroo #gender neutral y/n #hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel x reader platonic #hazbin x reader platonic #hazbin hotel platonic #platonic x reader #platonic #hazbin hotel blog #hazbin x teen reader #hazbin x you #hazbin x reader #hazbin hotel x you #hazbin hotel x teen reader #hazbin hotel x y/n #voonroo’s bat-like reader

[the-power-of-a-pen]

Oh, How I Love Thee

Fandom: Spider-Man 2 (PS5)

Summary: A series of cute moments between Harry Osborn and reader based on Elizabeth Barrett Browning's poem How Do I Love Thee?

Word Count: 3061

Pairing: Harry Osborn x reader (romantic)

Trigger Warning(s): Cursing, 3rd to last scene is reader panicking

A/n: I don't remember the last time I wrote a fic, but I loved the new Spiderman 2 on ps5 and I'm obsessed with/gay for Harry Osborn. Also apologies: English isn't my first language. Also please give feedback -- I have quite a few more of these in my drafts that I'll only publish if these are well-received!

How do I love thee?

Planks, nails, screws, and metal bars were strewn haphazardly across the floor of the apartment you shared with Harry. His eyebrows were furrowed the way they always do when he's determined to solve something. You'd long ago surrendered the instructions to him after his persistent insistence that he could figure it out. Instead, you simply leaned against him as you began organized the mess of a dresser you had attempted to assemble.

"Okay, how the fuck am I supposed to know with one of these screws is the 40 millimeter one?" he complained.

You adjusted yourself so that you were lounging more comfortably next to him with your chin on his shoulder while he wrapped an arm around your waist. “If I had to guess,” you started, “I’d probably read what’s on the top of each screw.”

He scoffed playfully. “Thanks, Captain Obvious.”

You gestured for him to give you the instructions, which he reluctantly did. "It says we need to put the x12 screws into the L2 bar first. Then we- oh for fuck's sake, why does this manual have pictures only? We're trying to build a coffee table, not a fucking time machine."

"Let's just try using the power drill on these," Harry suggested. "There's probably tons of extra parts in here that we can use if we mess up."

"Okay, Brunel. I thought you were a biochem major."

"Hey," he laughed. "Let a man dream. Can you hold this piece up?"

You obliged, and Harry picked up the nearest 40 mm-looking screw and drove it into the wooden bar at an angle to connect it to the bottom of the coffee table. You gave each other a look. It didn't seem right, but it did what it was supposed to.

"Trust the process?" you suggested. "I'm not going to try and read that chicken scratch again."

Harry shrugged. "Fair enough. As long as it stands up, right?"

The two of you repeated the process for the other four legs and the rack under the table. Finally, you propped it up to stand. It was a horrible mess, slanted and barely standing up. Truly, it looked more like a modern sculpture than a piece of furniture.

After a moment of silence, Harry said, "I'm gonna order something pre-made and get us takeout."

"Yeah," you sighed. "That's probably for the best."

Let me count the ways.

"I claim Yoshi," Harry declared as he selected the character for the round.

"Basic," you jabbed back. "My main's Toad, anyway. Rainbow Road?"

"Obviously."

The rain pattered against the windows outside. It was a perfect night to stay in.

As soon as the countdown finished, Harry sent a green shell your way and curved around you.

"Cheater," you jabbed as you spammed your controller to get back up.

"Hate the game, not the player," he bantered. "Oh, fuck you, Peach."

"How funny would it be if the bots won over us?"

"Not gonna happen," Harry replied. He threw a banana at your mini-kart and, by pure luck, managed not to crash into you.

On Harry's side of the split screen, it showed that he was on his final lap, with you a decent distance behind him. With the finish line in sight, you pulled the last trick in your sleeve. You grabbed Harry's chin and pulled him in for a passionate kiss, making him entirely lose focus. By the time you two pulled away, you were out of breath, and your side of the TV read 1st Place.

"Now who's cheating?" Although he was trying to scold you, the way he was catching his breath took away from it.

"Oh, please," you remarked. "You didn't mind."

Harry dropped his controller and, cupping your face with one hand and pulling your waist towards him with the other, he mumbled before kissing you, "Damn right I didn't.

I love thee to the depth and breadth and height my soul can reach.

Your phone buzzed, stirring you from your sleep. Rubbing some sleep from your eyes, you fumbled around for it, barely reading 7:23AM off of it. You tossed it over your shoulder and rolled over, hardly getting anywhere before Harry pulled you back into him.

He pressed a soft kiss to your neck and nuzzled into you. "G'morning, babe."

"Morning," you yawned. Your eyes adjusted to the morning light and you tried to massage some warmth back into your hands. A flock of pigeons brushed by your window, tracking in a breeze that brought shivers to your spine. You stirred again, trying to get up this time.

Harry tried and failed to grab for your hand. "Where are you going?"

You smiled to yourself. Harry's morning voice never got old. "I'm just closing the window. It's freezing in here."

He propped himself up on his elbow and commented, "Well, word around town is that I make a pretty good personal heater."

You hummed. "I'll take that into consideration." You sat down on his side of the bed and brushed some wild stray hairs out of his face. "But seriously, just because we have the day off, that doesn't mean we should spend all day in bed. I can make us hot chocolate the way you like it, and we can sit out in the park, maybe try to find something good in Midtown?"

"That sounds great, baby." Harry leaned into your touch. "After a quick nap."

You scoffed as he grabbed your waist to pull you on top of him. "Nothing's quick with you," you remarked.

Your boyfriend just smirked at you. "Part of why you love me." You settled down onto him, resting your head on his chest and intertwining your legs. "Just... five more minutes, babe," he implored you.

"Five more minutes," you agreed, already drifting back off to sleep.

When feeling out of sight for the ends of being and ideal grace.

The movie you had been watching had run its course, and you were beyond tired. You resigned yourself to quickly run through your skincare routine and find Harry so that the two of you could go to sleep.

You finished rinsing the cleanser off of your face and stretched with such force that you got dizzy. Shaking this feeling off, you called for your boyfriend.

"In the kitchen!" he called back. And he was there, but sheltered behind the kitchen island on the floor with his laptop and countless papers strewn around him. The fans in his computer sounded like a helicopter about to take off. "I'm just finishing these last few emails," he yawned. "Then I've got to review the results of bee drones, verify the statistics Dr. Loughran gathered on the organ reproduction project, and then I gotta check if they repaired the particle accelerator yet and-"

You sat yourself down next to him and gently shut his laptop, kissing his temple. "Why don't we deal with this tomorrow?"

Harry sighed and leaned on your shoulder. "I've been putting this off for a while. I'm so close to finishing, just like 30 more minutes."

You ran your fingers through his hair and felt him fighting to stay conscious. "You and I both know that's a lie, babe. The weight of the world doesn't rest on your shoulders. Take a break. The work will be there tomorrow."

"But-"

"What did May always say?"

Harry sighed again, but relented and put his head in your lap. "You help someone, you help everyone."

You arranged the papers around you into a pile and grabbed a cushion from one of the kitchen island's stools to put behind your back. "Let the person you help today be you, okay?"

But Harry was already fast asleep.

I love thee to the level of every day's most quiet need.

"Do you ever wonder what would happen if you used conditioner before shampoo?"

"Not really," you conceded as you took another bite of your ice cream from your place on top of the dryer.

Harry sat on the floor organizing the dark, white, and delicate clothes into piles. "I mean, it's probably better for your hair, no? Like, the whole purpose of conditioner is to break down unwanted particles and moisturize your hair. If anything, it's probably better to do it that way."

"Maybe," you agreed as you hopped down and put the first load in the wash. "But wouldn't that be the same as using fabric softener before detergent?"

"Nope. Fabric softener just coats your clothes in microplastics. It's a long-term way of damaging the bonds between the atoms for temporary comfort. Technically, we should be using something like vinegar instead."

"I'm not putting vinegar on my clothes," you objected.

"Maybe you need to be more open-minded," he teased.

"Maybe you need to keep your head in the game," you teased back, throwing his dirty T-shirt at him. You yelped when he threw a sock your way. "Oh, I'll get you back for that."

"I'd like to see you try," Harry challenged.

By sun and candle-light.

Harry raced past you in the hallway, tugging on a shoe while awkwardly hopping. You sipped your tea from the kitchen island as you stared down the morning crossword.

"Running late?" you asked as he grabbed an apple and tossed it into his bag.

"Yeah," he replied, out of breath as he roughly kissed your cheek and gave you a squeeze before rushing towards the door. "Pete's gonna have to deal with the donors on his own if I don't get there on time. Wish me luck."

"Good luck." You filled out the five boxes for 23-across whose clue read 'Oscar-winner Streep.' "I love you."

"I love you, too," he called as he shut the door. Almost immediately, he opened the door again. "Forgot my keys!"

"They're on top of your nightstand," you called as you heard him tearing your room apart. The jingle of the keys confirmed that he got them, and he bounded over to you again.

"I love you," he breathed, kissing your cheek. "You're the best."

"I know," you chuckled. You leaned around the corner to watch him leave for the second time before returning to your morning routine. You had just finished eating your breakfast when Harry came running in again.

"Missed me already?" you joked.

"Forgot my phone," he explained, grabbing it from beside you. He kissed your cheek again. "But that, too."

"Love you!" you called as he fumbled with the doorknob and you walked to the living room. "Kick ass today."

He gave you a charming wink then slipped out the door.

You turned on the TV and let a talk show play in the background as you cursed at your crossword. This time, it took Harry about 6 more minutes to realize he had yet again forgotten something important. He barged in for the third and last time, profusely apologizing.

"You wouldn't happen to know a five-letter port city of Japan, would you?" you asked without looking up.

"Try Osaka?" Harry filtered through the pockets of his coats in the laundry room until he finally found his wallet.

"That fits."

Harry returned from the laundry room and leaned down, pressing three kisses to your lips. "Okay, I'm leaving for real now. I love you."

"I love you, too, babe. Show 'em how it's done."

I love thee freely, as men strive for right.

"Oh my God, you should've seen the look on Hasan's face when Vijay showed up. Like, I get it, you dated way back in the day, but showing up in all white? So then MJ went to go pull the wine trick on him while I tried to distract Hasan so that he wouldn't notice anything was going on, but of course the universe wasn't satisfied." You huffed and caught your breath in the middle of pacing back and forth in the living room. "You know what happened after that?"

Harry, from his comfortable corner in the couch covered his mouth to hide his amusement. "Jess said something?" he guessed.

"Jess opened her fucking mouth," you continued. "And she was drunk off her ass because she always is, and she comes up to Hasan on his fucking wedding day and starts shouting about Vijay coming over. So at this point, Song is already asking Hasan 'Have you been cheating on me? Is that what this is?' And obviously Hasan would never do that but now Song's upset so the two of them go to argue in the backroom while Keith escorts Vijay out and MJ and I have to babysit Jess for the rest of the evening." You paused and took a sip of your mocktail. "It was literal hell."

At this point, you realize the smile taking over Harry's face. "What?"

He shook his head as he surveyed you in admiration. "You're hot when you're angry."

I love thee purely, as they turn from praise.

"Do I look good?" Harry asked nervously as he adjusted his tie.

You brushed his mess of curls away from his forehead. "You look perfect. You are perfect."

"I really need this interview to go well," he said, biting his lips. "Whatever this guy publishes is gonna be severely edited by Jonah, and if even half of what MJ said was warning enough, we're screwed."

"You're going to be fine," you assured him. When that didn't seem to work, you grabbed him by his shoulders and said, "Your mom would be so proud of you. Don't worry about what you can't control."

Harry took in a deep breath, and, hugging you before going into the meeting room, whispered, "Let's heal the world."

I love thee with the passion put to use in my old griefs, and with my childhood's faith.

"Good morning," chirped the barista as you walked in to the small café. "What can I get started for you?"

"Just a small pumpkin latte, please," you replied. You shivered and wrapped your scarf tighter around you.

"Anything else I can get for you? Maybe my number?"

"No, thanks -- that'll be all," you assured her, glancing behind you to look for Harry.

You jumped when he touched your arm. "I've got this one, baby," he winked and offered his card. The barista's eyes widened in realization, and she silently finished the transaction. One of her coworkers finished off the order and handed it to you on the other end of the kiosk.

You unlocked your car with your keys and laughed when Harry rushed to open the door for you.

"What's so funny?"

"You're jealous, aren't you," you jested.

Harry mocked offense as he got into the car on the other side. "I haven't the slightest idea what you're referring to, your majesty."

I love thee with a love I seemed to lose with my lost saints.

Harry crossed your arms on your chest and hugged you from behind to give you that comfort of pressure. "Breathe, babe. It's gonna be okay. This feeling will go away."

Your breathing was erratic, your face tingled, and you felt so dizzy you might pass out. "I could've lost you," you managed to get out between gasps. "So much could've gone wrong."

"I know," he said in a low voice. "I know. But everything's alright. Pete and Miles have a handle on things, they always do. That thing's gone. I'm okay. Everything's gonna be okay."

You rested your forehead on your knees, but Harry didn't let go of you. "I tried to get through to you but that thing just kept on speaking to me, and Dr. Connors said you were too far gone and then MJ told me what happened at the Foundation- fuck's sake you were in a coma for three weeks and you just show up-"

Harry crawled in front of you and gently took your face in his hands. "It was scary for me too, love. I thought it was going to hurt you and-" He took in a deep breath. "The worst is behind us, okay? Let's focus on that."

You nodded and tried to slow your breathing. After a moment: "None of that was your fault, you know? It wasn't you doing it."

"I know." He rested his forehead against yours and closed his eyes with a shaky breath. "I know."

I love thee with the breath, smiles, tears, of all my life;

"Okay, what do you think of this option?" You came out from the hallway with a new outfit and gave him a spin.

"Gorgeous," he breathed. "You look like an angel."

You sat down next to him on your bed. "Babe, I love you, but if all you do is flatter me, I'm not going to know what to wear to the gala."

Harry traced his fingers over the folds of your sides as you fiddled with the invitation in your hands. "Not my fault that my partner's hot."

"But it will be your fault if we're late," you retorted. "This one, the dark blue one, or the black one?"

He hummed. "This one," he replied with a wink. "It'll be easier to take off later."

He got up to leave the room, but you grabbed him by the tie, saying an inch away from his lips, "We'll see about that, handsome." And with that, you strutted away.

And, if God choose, I shall but love thee better after death.

You moved the needle onto the vinyl, letting the smooth jazz of Thelonious Monk fill the room. You waltzed over to Harry, and, wrapping one arm around his waist and grabbing his other hand, you swayed to the beat.

"C'mon, loverboy," you taunted him. "Show me some rhythm."

"I'm trying," he laughed, shuffling his feet.

"Baby, a little less Electric Slide, a little more moving those hips."

"Why don't you lead me instead?"

You spun in his arms and put your dominant leg between his legs and hummed as you swayed in a circle. Harry put an arm over your shoulder and started singing along.

"Glee Club paying off," you joked.

He bumped your nose. "Very funny."

You spun Harry as the music signalled that it was near its end.

"Have I ever told you that I love you?" Harry asked as he caught his balance.

You dipped him with the flourish of the music. "More than I can count."

#spiderman 2 ps5 #harry osborn #harry osborn x reader #harry osborn ps5 x reader #rio's writing

[jewels-writes]

Surviving the Crash (Part 2)

Fandom: Call of Duty Word count: 1,664 Warnings: not proofread, vague hospital scene, angst Background information: Your callsign is Crow (again) Part 1 Part 3 — — — —

It had been a week since you’d woken up. A week of apologies from Price. You’d told him each time that it was okay and that you didn’t blame him for what happened. You knew the risks of the job; now you had to deal with the consequences. 

Physical therapy was as humiliating and dehumanizing as you imagined it would be. More often than not, you felt like you were getting worse instead of better. Some days, you could walk a few steps. Other days, you couldn’t even stand.

Price wasn’t there as much as he said he would be. It hurt, sure, but you knew he was busy. But there was another part of you that thought that if he wanted to, he would. You thought you were special to him. The way he treated you before the mission, you thought you meant something to him. Why else did he insist on putting you on his team?

You were lying in the same hospital bed when a gentle rap came at the door. Waiting for your answer, the person who knocked poked their head in.

“Hey, love.” It was Price. Your heart ached at the mere sight of him for a reason you didn’t want to know. “I brought you something; it isn’t much, but I thought you’d like it.” Walking to your bedside, he placed a small white and purple box on your lap, allowing you to open it at your own pace. Carefully pulling at the ribbon that held the top on, you opened the box with gentle motions. “What do you think?” He asked, clearly nervous for your reaction.

It was a wood-carved crow painted a deep shade of purple. Turning it to inspect every angle, you noticed it’s imperfections. As you pieced the pieces together, a realization dawned on you.

“Did you make this?” You whispered, looking up to meet his nervous gaze. He gave you a small nod with a smile. “Price.. I don’t even know what to say.”

“You don’t have to say anythin’. I just hope that can bring you comfort even if I’m not here.” He took a step closer to your bed. “The boys miss you. They told me to say hi for them.” “Tell them I miss them too.” You muttered, your eyes focusing back on the crow in your hands.

The two of you sat in a comfortable silence for a while, neither of you knowing what to say. It was a surprise when his radio flickered to life, giving a reason to end the quiet.

“I’ll visit when I can.” He muttered softly to you. He looked like he wanted to say more but couldn’t bring himself to do so. “Rest up, Crow.” With a nod, he left the room, leaving an emptiness behind. 

A week had passed. Then two. Then three. No matter how many times you told yourself he was busy, the same part from before told you he didn’t care. Wouldn’t he have told you if he was going on a long mission? Or maybe someone would have the decency to tell you, right?

After a month had gone by, you stopped having hope. You knew you needed to focus on getting better anyway. When you were well enough, you’d confront him. 

— — — —

The day of your discharge from the medical wing wasn't anything crazy. Two grueling months in physical therapy had driven you nearly mad, driven only by the fact you could work again when it was all over. The nurses, with their kind words and congratulatory applause, bid you farewell as you strode out of the medical wing. While their well-wishes were appreciated, it wasn't their applause you yearned for.

Your footsteps carried you with purpose towards your barracks, a shared sanctuary nestled amidst the camaraderie of the 141. As you drew near the weathered tent flaps, a symphony of their laughter and loud chatter reached your ears. Their excited voices intertwined, filling the air with an atmosphere of joy that felt alien to you. It was a painful reminder of the life you yearned to reclaim.

“Ay, Gaz! Another round over here!” Soap's voice rang out, his words tinged with excitement that tugged at your heartstrings. The realization hit you like a tidal wave—they were drinking and celebrating, and you were clearly absent. You had found a strange comfort in the medical wing's solitude, believing that their absence was due to the demands of their duties. It was a flimsy shield against the sting of reality.

Anger should have surged through your veins like wildfire. You should have stormed into that tent, raising hell, demanding answers, and retribution. But you were better than that. Your restraint, borne from a sense of pride and a desire to be more than the victim of circumstances, held you back. 

You hadn’t realized it until their cheers died down that you were crying. Tears ran down your face as you tried to grapple with just how little you meant to them. You wondered why they’d fought so hard to keep you alive if they didn’t intend to stay. If they could be this happy without you, then why did it matter?

Despite your tears, you poked your head around the tent, trying to remain unseen. You saw all of them, standing around, opened beer cans in their hands, their laughter surging up again at a joke Gaz had made. Ghost’s arm hug lazily around Soap’s shoulder and Gaz sat on his bed across from them. 

God, it hurt. 

Looking over to your bunk, you realized something. Price wasn’t there. He wasn’t in the tent drinking with his soldiers. You shot down the hope you had, that he was absent because he was upset as well. Before you could think about it, you were walking to Price’s office. Where else could he be if not with his team?

As you walked through the camp, the moonlight shown down on you. Shivering slightly, you wished you would have brought a jacket, not that you could have walked in the tent without being seen by the 141. You brought your hands up to your arms, hoping it would retain some warmth.

And now here you were, your hand hesitating, hovering before the wooden door to his office. You faltered, twitching in your indecisiveness. What would you even say to him if he answered? Was it worth it? Would he even care? As you were about to give up, the shadows under the door moved and the handle turned.

Oh shit.

As the door opened, your eyes widened in dread. There stood Price, looking exhausted as hell. He froze when he saw you, his head tilting to the side in confusion.

“Crow..? What on earth are you doing here? You’re supposed to be in medical why-” His expression faltered with worry and concern. “You’re crying.” 

No matter how much you prepared yourself, seeing him was enough to break your walls down. Your hands came up to cover your face as you sobbed. The confusion and the pain ruining you.

In an instant he took a step forward, his arms wrapping around you. One of his hands went to the back of your head, pulling you in, the other on the small of your back. He rocked you back and forth, shushing you and whispering small assurances in your ear.

“You’re okay. Shh..” He murmured. “I’m here. Your captain’s here.” His hand ran through your hair, an attempt to soothe you.

He ushered you into his office, for the privacy, for the space you were familiar with. As he moved you, you felt the anger well up after the sadness got its chance to come out and you took a step away from him. His eyes searched yours, desperate for answers.

“I see you’ve been enjoying yourself.” You motioned to his desk, an empty whiskey bottle sat on top of a mess of papers. “Your soldiers are doing the same thing, maybe you should go drink with them. Or have you forgotten about them as well?” Your voice slowly gained more strength as you realized that you’d been wronged. 

Price didn’t say anything. He didn’t know what would even soothe you. Figured it would be better to let you get whatever this was out of your system.

“Two months, Captain.” You whispered, crossing your arms over your chest. “For someone who wanted me on their team so bad, you sure have a hell of a way of fighting to keep me here.” The pain in your voice was clear. Price could see the inner turmoil, the doubt, the confusion. His eyes flickered with recognition.

“No one told you?” He asked, a hint of realization in his expression. “We had to finish that mission. The one that you..” His voice trailed off as he motioned to your leg with a guilty expression. “We just got back tonight. I was finishing up a report on it before all this.” His eyes widened as he realized exactly why you were so upset. “You didn’t think I.. forgot about you.. right?”

You didn’t know how to respond. Could you even? Everything you’d thought was wrong? How could you know he wasn’t lying? How could you just push away what you’ve been thinking these past two months?

“Are you serious..?” Your voice was quiet, confused. “No, no one bloody told me anything. God dammit, Price. I thought..”

He shook his head slowly, concern in his expression. “I could never, sweetheart. I worked my ass off, pulling strings to get you to my team. I could never leave you behind.” His arms went around you again, desperate to get his point across. 

Slowly, you believed him. It was in the way his arms trembled around you, the way he whispered to you gently, rocking you back and forth. You eventually leaned into his touch, seeking his comfort.

Finally everything seemed to be alright, for the first time in a long while. Note: I'm so sorry if this sucks, I'm best at writing fast paced action scenes but this was requested so here you go. I love you guys and I'm working on a third part before even posting this. Requests are open if you're ever interested in more writing from me!

#angst #x reader #price #captain john price #john price #captain price #call of duty #price x reader #call of duty x reader #captain price x reader #john price x reader

[thatfilthyanimal]

tw: stalking, grooming, pedophilia, sexual abuse, past suicidal thoughts

I've recently been made aware that Dupsy is still talking about me and is now going to random Megamind fans that don't know me and telling them to avoid me. I'm also aware that they're doing this in the Ruby Gillman fandom. I have no words to really describe the level of discomfort this brings me, but I will attempt.

First of all, all the "grooming" allegations were thoroughly debunked and proven to be bullshit. I can't believe I have to even say this. I'm a victim of grooming and sexual abuse myself. It's extremely traumatic and life-altering shit, and never something I would want to inflict on someone else. I feel like it should be obvious, with the measures I took in the server to ensure no child is exposed to such things. I was recently diagnosed with PTSD due to the shit that happened to me when I was growing up, and between processing that in therapy sessions and stomaching transitioning in a near-constant hostile-to-trans-people online social media hellscape, I am tired.

I love Megamind, more than anything, and this is known and obvious to anyone who's met me. This movie saved my life when I was extremely suicidal and planning to end my life back in 2010. Watching the movie when I did gave me something to focus on, a distraction, and a responsibility as a fandom member that helped distract me long enough to get out of the planning mindset I was in. Had I not seen the movie, I do not think I would have stuck around. I will leave it at that.

And moderating fandom spaces for Megamind has been lovely! I adore this fandom. The people in it are extremely talented and sweet, and just so damn nice, like by default. I say this all the time but I've never experienced another fandom space quite like it. There are usually bad eggs in fandoms, and perhaps -I- am said "bad egg" to some, but genuinely this one is special. I have always felt that way, even when the bad eggs show up and make a stink. It has always felt worth being here for, to me.

And while I hate to give Dupsy the satisfaction of knowing they hurt me, I need to be honest-- it's been rough. I stopped talking in my server, I locked up on most of my friends and stopped talking even in DMs. I still struggle with severe anxiety in the server and have talked to Dal on various occasions about transferring the server ownership to him. He's been very patient with my freakouts and super understanding, but it's still hard. This WAS a place I felt safe, for over ten years! And now it feels like any minor can just say I'm a groomer or a pedo or whatever with ZERO consequences, just because they're mad, just because these are words that make people go "oh shit" and listen, and man! It's not ok! And this coupled with the fact that trans people are often called groomers just for existing, just… man! I'm tired. I'm so tired.

There are real, severe, damaging effects to these claims being thrown around so casually. It's hurtful to me, as a victim of sexual abuse, because when I came forward to people about what happened when -I- was a minor, I was told I "wanted it" and "asked for it". It was made to be my fault that I was abused, and I internalized it for years. It nearly killed me. I cannot stress enough how important it is to not use claims like pedophilia and grooming so lightly-- these are VERY damning terms to use on people and should be reserved for people ACTUALLY HARMING OTHERS. Being mad I banned you from the server is not "abuse" and using my Customer Service Voice to be nice to you and then being obviously tired of you when you were banned is not "emotional grooming". What the actual fuck. ALSO. This was well over a year ago! Why am I still having to post about this? Why are you still TALKING about me? And yet again I ask, where the HELL are your parents?

Anyway, if you've been wondering why I've been so quiet these days and struggling to socialize… honestly? It's this. I hate that this is what did it. I know people trust and believe me, I know the fandom backs me up regularly and I appreciate them all so much for it. I see it, but I never know how to respond. You guys continue to make this fandom feel safe for me even when my entire brain is screaming to run, and I appreciate you so much for it.

Kids deserve to be trusted when they tell people they've been hurt and I hate that the recent proshipping discourse or whatever you want to call it, this culty all-or-nothing shit, has a bunch of minors growing up feeling like EVERYTHING is something to call rapey or predatory, with apparently little room to distinguish when REAL abuse is happening to them. I don't blame anyone for believing Dupsy, and it's honestly better they DO believe all unproven claims of abuse by default, just to stay safe-- but man, it has consequences that follow people, and really should not be a thing to just throw around because you're mad at someone. I just can't believe they're STILL going around and reaching out to strangers telling them to avoid me… like, what the fuck.

I will be ok, I always am eventually, but I needed to say something, because it's honestly been a while since I've said much of anything.

Keep being kind. <3

#trigger warnings in post #Megamind #Ruby Gillman #RGTK #personal #sorry if you have no idea what the heck is happening #continue scrolling its all good #but also maybe uhhhhhh avoid this minor #like a lot

[aquared46]

Left Unsaid

Note: AO3 is down, life is pain. My fics are normally locked to registered users, but in these trying times, I wanted to share some here (godspeed to the volunteers from AO3; you are fandom's lifeblood.

TW: blood, needles

Summary: Neil begins to practice with knives again and all does not go as planned.

The pull of thread through his skin was what finally calmed Neil’s racing heart. His hands steadied, the burn of alcohol in his stomach a strange comfort. A bottle of vodka pilfered from Kevin’s stash sat beside Neil on the sink, which was littered with bloody gauze that he used to stanch the bleeding and painkillers that wouldn’t kick in well or fast enough. The alcohol wouldn’t dull the pain – not unless he drank enough – but then he wouldn’t be able to take care of the wound anyway. Still, there was something to be said for the placebo effect, even if he knew that’s all it was.

He tied off another stitch, took another gulp of the alcohol, then continued. Neil and his mother were only able to stop and bandage their wounds like this unless they were safe – safe enough, that is. He could almost feel her beside him again, hands clinical and as she tended to him.

“Stupid,” he whispered to himself – but the inflection, the tone, all belonged to her.

The injury would put him out of practice for at least two weeks. Even he wasn’t foolish enough to think he could hide the gash spanning halfway across his palm. He wouldn’t last half-an-hour on the court without tearing it open in his gloves, and someone was sure to notice the pain while he was playing, even if no one noticed the bandages before that. The last time Neil hid an injury, Wymack threatened to take him off the court for twice as long as it took him to heal, and Neil was sure he’d follow through on the threat if he did it again. Especially so early in the season.

The familiar motions of fixing himself up calmed him better than counting ever could. This was something Neil was good at. Something that he hated, but something that gave him focus. Clean up meant that the worst of it was over – for now. A brief reprieve.

Neil used to wish he could stop time. That he could stay frozen in those brief moments with his mother – in crappy motels or dingy gas station bathrooms – where he could breathe, feel the comfort of her running a hand through his hair and pushing his aching body toward a bed or a car for much needed rest. Because soon enough, they’d be tracked down again.

That was how Neil felt now. Hunted. He knew when he chose to stay at Palmetto he’d deal with more threats to his life. The FBI continued their investigation, hurtling towards trials against his father’s associates in which Neil would testify.

Neil was used to his life being at stake. Except now he couldn’t bear to lose everything for a second time. So, when the FBI called to inform him that they were taking additional security measures due to substantiated threats, Neil decided to take his safety into his own hands as well.

And that’d gone even worse than he thought it could.

Now Neil had to clean the blood off one of Andrew’s knives as well as the carpet, and explain to Wymack that he wasn’t able to play because he’d been practicing with knives for the first time in years.

Neil heard the front door to their dorm close. He finished bandaging the wound, then heaved himself off the toilet. The room spun momentarily. He hadn’t lost nearly enough blood to be so affected, but the earlier panic mixed the alcohol wasn’t doing him any favours. He tossed the bloodied gauze in the trash and wiped down the counter until it was pristine again. Then he cleaned the knife carefully, knowing how much Andrew cared for them.

There was pounding on the door before he finished.

“I need the bathroom,” Kevin demanded.

“And I need another minute,” Neil said. He wrapped the blade in a towel, considering the fact that Kevin wouldn’t like the image of Neil bloody and holding a knife anymore than he did.

There was a grumble and footsteps as Kevin backed off. There was a pause, then he raised his voice from further away. “Why is there blood?”

“I’m fine,” Neil said. Except there was blood staining the front of his orange shirt where he held his hand against it to initially stop the bleeding. It stuck to his skin. Neil wanted to hop in the shower and wash the feeling and the scent away, but he didn’t have the forethought to bring a spare pair of clothes in with him.

Neil checked to make sure the bathroom was tidy one more time. He tucked the remainder of the vodka under his arm, stepped out, and met Kevin’s appraising gaze.

“You’re fine,” Kevin said. He ignored the bundle Neil was carrying in his good hand and instead focused on the bandage wrapped around his injured one. “Can you play?”

“No,” he spat, hating the answer more than Kevin ever could. Neil pushed past him. He placed the bundled knife on his bed.

“How long?” Kevin asked. “How bad?”

Neil shoved the vodka bottle back at Kevin, making him almost drop it. “Not long. Not bad.”

Kevin at least relaxed a little at that. “What’s not bad? What were you doing? You know if this happened when we had any games what this could mean for you? For the team? For –”

“I know,” Neil said. He pushed past Kevin to his dresser, where he pulled out a change of clothes.

Kevin followed after him. “Then why –”

Neil retreated back into the bathroom and slammed the door in his face. It took Kevin a few seconds to knock again, no more politely than the first time.

“I still need the bathroom!”

“Find another one.”

~ ~ ~

Kevin hadn’t returned by the time Neil got out of the shower. But Andrew had. Neil hadn’t heard him come back. But he was sitting on Neil’s bed, examining his knife with a bland expression.

Glancing at the clock, Neil could see they still had a couple hours before they were supposed to be in practice, but that also meant that Andrew was supposed to be in class. Instead, he was here, looking like he couldn’t care less that Neil was standing next to the drying bloodstain he left on the carpet.

Kevin must’ve messaged him.

Neil tossed his dirty clothes into a bag so they wouldn’t bleed on the rest of his laundry and decided to deal with them later. He pulled on a pair of running shoes, feeling Andrew’s eyes on him.

“Staring,” he said.

Andrew stood, stepping into Neil’s space. “Where are you running off to?”

“Store,” Neil said. He nodded towards the stain. “Need supplies.” It’d been so long since he had to clean up his own blood, he wondered if he set a record for himself.

Andrew backed away, put on his shoes, slid the knife into his armband, and grabbed a box of cigarettes.

“You coming?” Neil asked.

Andrew didn’t answer. He headed out, leaving Neil to catch up after locking their door. He lit up just before they left the dorm, exhaling a puff of smoke as the door swung shut behind them. Neil snagged the cigarette and Andrew let it go without comment, simply shaking another one from his pack.

The smell helped chase away the anxiety that was creeping back up on him. Neil and Andrew spent almost every night up on the roof smoking since Neil received the call from the FBI. The circles under Andrew’s eyes were almost as bad a Neil’s, but he had yet to complain. He’d watched Neil closely this past week, like he was waiting for him to finally give into his urge to run.

Neil chose to stay months ago, and he wasn’t going back on that decision now.

The on-campus store didn’t have everything Neil wanted, but he would make do. He doubted he’d be the first or the last fox to leave a bloodstained floor behind. If it didn’t come out, they could throw a rug over it.

Andrew grabbed himself a couple pints of ice cream, as well as some candy bars to add to his stash. They left with their respective bags, Neil’s filled with cleaning supplies and a bag of mixed nuts Andrew dropped into his basket without comment. He ate them on the way back to the dorm, feeling significantly better once he had something in his stomach.

Back at the dorm, Andrew settled on Neil’s bottom bunk with crossed legs, spoon already digging into the first pint of ice cream – double chocolate fudge. He watched Neil as he pulled out the cleaning supplies and set to work.

After a few minutes, the stain looked significantly better, but Neil would be lucky if he managed to get it out of the carpet. It was fine. When Neil was on the run, they just had to clean up enough that questions wouldn’t be asked until they were long-gone. Not that anyone in those cheap hotels would stick their nose into anything they didn’t have to. It wasn’t like they had a professional-grade carpet cleaner, not like when they lived with Neil’s father – where everything would be wiped away and made pristine in case of unwanted guests.

Neil jolted as something ice-cold pressed against the back of his neck. He spun to see Andrew, spoon stuck in his mouth as he held his pint out. Now that he had Neil’s attention, he settled back on the bed and dug in for another bite.

Neil finished the job and gathered all the trash, including his bloodied gauze from earlier. After some deliberation, he added his ruined shirt. The pants were dark-coloured and salvageable, but the same couldn’t be said for the vibrant orange Palmetto shirt, as much as Neil liked it. Andrew passed him the empty pint of ice cream to add to the bag, then grabbed the next one.

“Try not to get lost on your way back,” Andrew said. In other words, he’d be waiting for Neil.

He made the trip quickly, not even pausing when his phone vibrated in his pocket. Andrew wouldn’t be the one messaging him, and he didn’t feel like talking to anyone else, especially if it was Kevin ordering him to do things he already knew he had to do. Like see Abby.

He managed not to get lost in his own head and made the short trip to the dumpster and back without being assassinated, otherwise harmed, or running into another one of the Foxes. Small victories. By the time he collapsed onto his bed beside Andrew, he felt wrung out.

He pillowed his head with his good hand and watched Andrew methodically pick his way through his second pint of ice cream. Once finished, Andrew set it down where it’d be in Kevin’s line of sight, which would no doubt spark another rant about healthy sugar intake and professional athlete’s diets.

Andrew reached for Neil’s hand, fingers chilled from holding the pints. Neil didn’t resist as Andrew unwrapped his bandage, viewing the damage Neil did to himself.

“I’d have thought you’d know better than to play with knives,” he said.

“I know what I’m doing,” Neil said.

“Could’ve fooled me.”

“It’s been years since I’ve handled them.” He hated practicing when he was a child, always knowing he wouldn’t perform well enough and be punished for it. When he and his mother ran, he stopped training. As she said, the only thing he needed to know about knives was where to stick one to do the most damage. Other than that, the most important weapon in their arsenal was the single gun they had between the two of them. His mother usually carried it, but she still taught Neil how to aim and shoot in case he ever needed to.

Andrew wrapped Neil’s hand back up, returning it to him. “More fox than rabbit now? Finally showing your teeth?”

“Something like that.” Neil cradled his hand to his chest. “I’d rather not.”

“Then why?”

Neil shrugged. “I don’t have much of a choice.”

That finally got a frown. “Explain.”

When Neil didn’t respond, Andrew huffed and laid down next to him, scant inches between the two of them. Andrew kept his gaze on Neil, letting him look his fill without complaint. Andrew wouldn’t repeat himself, instead waiting for Neil to either answer or deflect.

“I want to be ready if they come for me again,” Neil said. “I refuse to run. But I can’t do nothing either.”

“You chose to fight.”

Neil nodded.

“Idiot. You do realize you don’t have to fight alone?” Andrew reached out slow enough that Neil could pull away if he wanted to. Andrew cool fingers brushed a line against Neil’s throat. “Have someone with you.”

They both knew Andrew was the only one Neil would trust to see him like that.

Neil couldn’t help but smile. “You just want to steal my knife skills.”

“What knife skills? I see no skill here.”

Neil sat up and held out his hand. After a moment, Andrew withdrew a knife and passed it to him. Neil let himself focus on how the knife felt in his hand, warmed from being close to Andrew’s skin. It belonged to Andrew, not Neil’s father. He refused to continue allowing his dead father to hold this over his head – especially when this was something that could save the life Neil put so much blood and sweat into creating.

His movements were still awkward, but the remembrance of the skill he used to carry was still there. After a few moments, Neil found the balance of the blade and threw it at dartboard he was practicing on earlier. It sunk far enough off-centre that some old part of Neil curled up, awaiting pain.

He shoved that down and turned to face Andrew. “Work in progress,” Neil said.

Andrew hummed without inflection. He eyed the knife in the dartboard for a moment more, then closed a hand around Neil’s wrist and pulled him back down onto the bed. “Yes or no?”

“Yes.” Neil pressed his hands into the bed as Andrew leaned over him. He arched into the kiss – all-devouring, a mixture of tongue and teeth that left Neil’s legs feeling weak.

Andrew steadied himself with an elbow beside Neil’s head, their chests almost touching. Andrew’s other hand cupped Neil’s cheek, thumb swiping over the burns on Neil’s face gently. Then he pushed Neil’s face to the side for access to his neck.

“Oh,” Neil breathed as Andrew’s lips pressed against his throat. “You liked that.”

“Shut up,” Andrew said, nipping hard enough to leave a mark.

Neil wouldn’t have listened, but Andrew’s mouth met his again, and then he couldn’t think of anything instead of returning the kiss. His palm ached from when he was gripping the sheets, but he couldn’t bring himself to care when he could feel the warmth of Andrew’s body all around him.

“Shoulders and up,” Andrew said against Neil’s lips. He relaxed down far enough that their chests were moving together as they breathed in tandem, but not enough to truly put his weight on Neil.

Neil threaded his fingers through Andrew’s hair, then dropped one hand to brace against his shoulder. Neil lost himself in the kiss, his world narrowing down to the way Andrew felt against him, the faint taste of chocolate on his tongue, the spicy scent of Andrew’s deodorant, the sound of their combined breathing and Neil’s cut-off moans, and the starbursts behind his closed eyelids as Andrew took him apart.

Once Andrew pulled away, Neil cracked his eyes open and stared at the bars of the top bunk. He licked his kiss-swollen lips, feeling loose-limbed and floaty. He turned back towards Andrew, noting the flush on his cheeks and the mess Neil made of his hair. He grinned.

Andrew didn’t even open his eyes. “Don’t look at me like that.”

“I’m not,” Neil lied.

Neil wouldn’t let what they had slip through his fingers. He said he would stay, and he’d do everything he could to do to keep that promise. He’d fight in every way he was capable of.

A word sat heavy on his tongue – on his mind – coaxing and deceptively alluring despite the weight it would carry for both of them. Neil didn’t utter the words. He cut them off before they could fully articulate into thoughts. There were certain things he wasn’t ready for – didn’t know he’d ever be ready for.

To feel was one thing. To put into words was another.

But maybe that word was just another thing he was running from. He’d fought the memory of his father to reclaim the knives he wielded, and maybe that word was something he’d need to fight to reclaim from his mother.

#andreil #all for the game #aftg #aftg fic

[sundeathh]

So hey! What's up? I uh, could use a favor. I'm kinda going through some nonsense and could really use some daddyzawa headcannons. Maybe his reaction to you send nudes or him seeing you in a lutty version of his hero costume? Or both. Please, my love.

Helloooo!!! Alright sweetie, I practically wrote a fucking book for this request. I believe I probably went further than necessary but I just couldn't help myself!

Sorry it took a long time for me to reply, but anyway, I hope you enjoy it!!!

.

NICE COSTUME, NICE VIEW

Request | Masterlist | NSFW / +18 only

Pairing: Aizawa x Fem!reader

Fandom: BNHA | MHA. Word count: 5,6K

CW: Smut, unprotected sex, heterosexual relationship, reader being a tease and taking control, good boy/girl calling, several pet names.

1. First of, I believe that if you sent a full nude picture to him he would nearly pass out; he is a really reserved man so he usually don't receive nor send those kind of pictures;

2. He would cringe at first for being caught off guard but he would like it anyway;

3. If you dressed in a slutty version of his hero costume, he would be rather confused, yet unbelievably aroused. That's why I wrote the following headcanon! Enjoy!

Oh, how daring of you to come up with this idea while he was still at work.

Shōta still wasn't sure how you managed it; you just sent him the picture randomly and without any further context.

Anyway, he had to admit that it was pretty good, if nothing else – it was totally unexpected, of course, but also very well done.

He was on his break at work when he received your picture. And, as soon as he opened it, he was speechless. 

Thus, he didn't respond. He had no idea if he should just text you some sort of compliment or if he should go to the restroom and do...something? Take a photo for you, maybe?

However, his lack of answer didn't bother you that much; you weren't expecting an immediate reaction from him at all.

You knew he had a tendency to be dense sometimes, and although it infuriated you in the beginning of your relationship, now it didn't bother you as much – in fact, it turned into the exact opposite, you loved taking advantage of this.

So you had already decided that you were definitely going to get through that thick skull of his with what you had planned. It would require more effort than you thought, but it would be worth it.

You put on a tight black long sleeved shirt, imitating his own hero costume; however, yours was more revealing, since it was thinner and more transparent than his.

You also wore one of his spare capture weapons loosely around your neck and goggles over your head – almost mimicking cat ears. You weren't wearing pants, showing off the long length of your legs and thighs that seemed so inviting, covering just what had to be covered with lace panties and the shirt itself. 

Shōta knew you could make yourself look good if he had a say in the matter, but damn this costume wasn't showing that off at all; he wanted you without it. 

He sighed. What was he supposed to think? He wanted you. No, he needed you. He felt an incredible urge to just leave work and come to you, without even taking anything else with him. 

It took everything in him to not call you right then and there or text you asking what the hell you had been thinking about. So he settled for just roaming his eyes up and down the picture as he admired your form, his face flushed red from his thoughts and embarrassment.

Damn did he want to be with you now. 

He closed the picture before he stared at it for another few seconds. He knew how you made his heart race every time you sent something to him but it was different now. You never sent anything like that before. 

Another sigh left his lips as he rubbed his temples, trying to clear his mind. He had to stay calm to actually focus on work again.

After taking a deep breath, he turned back to work; aware that he would have a lot of paperwork to get done.

Unfortunately though, now his mind was elsewhere.

× × ×

The day went by, and Shōta couldn’t stop thinking about your picture. Not only was it incredibly hot, but also incredibly provocative.

He hated to admit it but he wanted you naked; not that he hasn't seen you naked for several times before, after all, you were together for years now. But it was definitely a need anyway.

So that's what he was hoping for when he knocked on your door after work.

You opened it with your usual smile, and he couldn't help but notice your outfit – you were thoughtful enough to put it back on when it was time for him to leave work.

He knew he was blushing furiously from the way his heart beat and the warmth spreading across his cheeks.

Then, he cleared his throat awkwardly, trying to regain a bit of his composure before he spoke.

"Can we talk? In private?"

You raised an eyebrow at him but nodded anyway, stepping aside for him to enter. He walked inside, still trying to figure out what he was going to say.

And, once you both entered the room, you shut the door and looked at Shōta expectantly; you could tell he wanted to speak but it was clearly taking him some effort. 

"Um... I... well..." he paused for a moment.

"What is... this?" He finally asked, pointing at your outfit. He didn't mean it rudely though; he was truly confused as to why or what exactly you were wearing.

"Oh," you said, slightly taken aback by his question. "I was inspired."

"Inspired?"

"Yes! Inspired." You repeated slowly, as if making sure the word really got through to him.

"By my costume." He finished dumbfounded.

You smiled and nodded. "Yup!"

"Right..."

The awkward silence that followed after that grew a bit uncomfortable. However, neither of you said anything.

That is, until Shōta decided it was better to go straight to business instead of trying to come up with something else to say.

"So what does this mean?" He asked.

"Hm? What do you mean?" You tried to play dumb.

"This," he gestured toward your attire, "what does this mean?"

"Oh, well... it means that I like your costume." You explained simply. "So I just tried to show you that."

A faint blush returned to his face and he nodded his head.

"Alright. I suppose that makes sense." He stated. "I am just surprised, I guess. I don't usually see you dressed in such a revealing manner."

"Yeah. I don't dress like that at all. I did it now just to show you." You replied, flashing a mischievous grin. "Didn't you like it?"

His face heated up again at your words. The fact that you thought of him like that made his heart flutter like crazy. He loved it.

Shōta cleared his throat again before answering your question.

"I can assure you it doesn't bother me."

"Good." You responded simply before looking away and shifting your weight to one foot. "Did you like it then...?" 

He stared at you with wide eyes for a moment, slightly shocked by what he wanted to answer.

"I liked it. Very much in fact. It... it looks very nice." He replied slowly.

It definitely caught him off guard; seeing you in his uniform, especially since it showed way more skin than his.

"I'm glad." You looked over at him with a smile and added, "I can take it off now if you'd like."

He swallowed nervously and shook his head. This was getting ridiculous. How could you affect him so much?

"No, I don't want you to take it off." He insisted. "I mean... I...I like it on you. I like seeing you like this. But if you want to take it off and put on something else I won't stop you."

It sounded cheesy and he cringed at how lame it sounded when he said it, but he figured this was the best he could offer you to express what he meant; you could read between lines, after all.

"Oh, well, I wasn't thinking about changing though... just taking it off. Completely. If you want me to, of course." You shrugged playfully and gave him a flirtatious smirk.

"Please don't wear anything else tonight." He said, grateful that he kept his voice steady considering how hard he was finding it to keep his composure – you were always so bold, but that just further fueled his desire for you.

"Okay." You agreed, giving him a small nod. "Is that everything?" You asked with a hint of sarcasm.

He groaned inwardly. Did he really seem too desperate to you?

After realizing he must've been silent for too long, he cleared his throat.

"Yeah... that's all." He replied. He knew if he stayed any longer his resolve would crumble completely.

"Alrighty then..." you replied joyfully, before standing on your tiptoes to give him a peck on the cheek.

He froze up, not sure whether to hug you and thank you or kiss you. So he settled for both; it was the appropriate thing to do.

"Don’t worry. I won’t show it to anyone else." You whispered to him after pulling away, smirking.

He couldn’t hide the heat that spread across his face; not only because of your teasing comment but also because he knew you were serious.

He pulled away as well, embarrassed but happy nonetheless. He stood there staring at you for a second before he finally managed to find his voice.

"Good... that's good. I don’t want anyone seeing you like this either." He muttered, his cheeks turning red again.

You smiled, feeling satisfied.

"But I thought you liked it!?" You teased.

"I said, I don’t want people to see you like this." He repeated, slightly annoyed.

You giggled. "Oh~? Shōta, are you... jealous?" 

"I'm not jealous." He flatly denied it. "I just don't want other men seeing these pictures of yours, alright?"

"You're totally jealous." You poked his chest, grinning. "But it's okay, Sho. I promise I won’t show them to anyone. Not even to you."

He rolled his eyes at you, but relaxed as soon as he saw you smiling.

"I trust you." He said softly.

"Good. But we have lots of unfinished business to attend to. Are you staying or do you still have work for today?” You asked, changing the subject.

"Just let me finish my reports first." He assured you with a nod. "But I can do it right here if you don't mind. Then we can spend the rest of our nights together." 

"Of course I don't mind. Do you want to work here in the living room or...?"

"Here. No distractions." 

You pouted playfully at him but complied.

"Very well, Sir Aizawa."

With that, Shōta sat down on your couch and began to fill in paperwork as you went to your bedroom, giving him space to finish work; he needed something else to occupy his mind for a while.

Unfortunately though, that other distraction quickly evaporated, and thoughts of you came back to his mind again.

It took every ounce of self restraint he possessed to not go into your room and jump on top of you immediately; he knew he wasn't going to finish his work if he went that route. So he forced himself to concentrate, doing all the paperwork he could do while he tried to calm down and stop thinking about you in that very specific way for a bit.

After about half an hour, he gave up and went to you to ask if he could use your bathroom. He needed a cold shower to get rid of the needy feeling he had of having his pants pulled down by yourself since you sent that picture earlier.

When he walked into your bedroom, he noticed you had changed your provocative attire into something more comfortable: your usual sleeping clothes.

No, that was not it. He realized you were already wearing one of his shirts, actually – it was a little too big for you. 

You were reading a book, and you turned your gaze up when you noticed him enter the room.

"Can I use your bathroom?" He asked quietly.

You raised an eyebrow at him but nodded anyway, motioning to it. "Sure, go ahead."

He thanked you before walking passed you and disappearing into your bathroom. He stayed there for a while, and when he got out of there you weren't caught up in your book anymore.

Instead, he found you in the kitchen preparing some snacks. Your hair was wrapped in a messy bun, and his eyes lingered momentarily on your frame.

You were still as attractive as ever.

He felt a blush creep up onto his face and he quickly averted his gaze to make sure you didn’t catch him ogling your body.

"Hey. Are you feeling better?" You asked, coming over to him, a warm smile adorning your lips.

"Uh, yeah. Yeah I am. Thanks." He told you honestly. "Sorry... I lost track of time."

You chuckled lightly at that. "It's fine. Now come over here and eat." You ordered and pointed towards the table. 

He did as he was told and ate his food. You didn't speak a word, instead choosing to just sit there eating and watching him.

And, once you finished, you excused yourself from the table and went to the sink to clean the dishes.

Not long after, Shōta was back to his paperwork, only this time he was sitting at the kitchen counter instead of on the couch.

After another moment, it seemed like he was becoming progressively stressed and irritable and it was starting to worry you; but you didn't want to distract him after he asked you not to, so you limited yourself to glance at him occasionally at each sigh you heard him make.

When he finally had it all done after a few more minutes, he set down his pen and exhaled deeply, before looking up to meet your worried gaze.

He smiled weakly at you as an attempt to reassure you that he was okay. But you didn't buy that, of course.

So you leaned over the countertop, watching him carefully.

"Done?" You asked softly.

He nodded but remained silent, letting out a deep sigh. He hadn’t noticed how tense he’d gotten until you spoke up to him again.

"Are you alright?" You inquired gently.

His brow furrowed slightly and he frowned.

"I guess so. Just stressed, I suppose." He murmured.

"Oh…" you replied, sounding somewhat concerned.

The pause that followed afterwards felt like an eternity to Shōta as he watched you; he wasn’t sure what he should do now that the silence had gone on for so long – you seemed nervous, and nervousness didn't suit you.

He found himself wanting to reach over and cup your cheek, or brush the strands of hair away from your face, anything so he could make you don't feel like that. But he just kept looking at you.

Eventually though, he opened his mouth to speak again.

"Would you... like me to carry you back to your bedroom?" He suggested softly.

"Huh!?" You exclaimed, surprised; you didn't expect this sudden boldness from him.

He smiled lightly in amusement.

"I mean, it seems like you are getting tired, so... yeah." He explained innocently.

You chuckled. "Alright, yes. Please!" You answered, making your enthusiasm clear.

Then, he stood up and walked around the counter, picking you up easily as if you weighed nothing. He carried you bridal style into the bedroom and placed you down gently onto your bed.

He laid down next to you and rested his weight on one of his elbows, prompting his head up to stare down at you for what seemed like ages as you gazed back at him, waiting for him to say or do something; your eyes shining from excitement and your lips forming a huge smile.

Finally, he broke eye contact and ran a hand through his hair.

"Do you think..." he paused, swallowing thickly.

"Do you think maybe we could... you know, continue our earlier activities? ...like... uh..." his face turned a light shade of pink as he trailed off.

"Like what?" You prompted him with a smirk, clearly amused by his awkward behavior; he was really struggling trying to find the right words to express how he was feeling and what he wanted at that moment.

He smiled and averted his gaze.

"Like... cuddling maybe?" He mumbled.

You laughed quietly, unable to resist the urge of poking fun at him.

"Cuddle? Is that all?" You joked. 

He glared at you, his embarrassment becoming more apparent.

"No...!" He grumbled, averting his gaze once more.

You giggled. "Why is someone embarrassed about it?" You teased him again, unable to help yourself; he looked adorable when he was flustered. "Or perhaps it has nothing to do with the 'cuddling' part of it?" You smirked.

He sighed, closing his eyes momentarily. "Quit the teasing."

"Sorry. I can't help myself." You nudged him playfully and smiled.

He gave you another stern look before leaning down and pressing his lips against yours tenderly.

"Don't tease me anymore." He said after pulling back. You giggled again and continued to tease him anyway.

"Didn't know I was getting you worked up that much." You whispered, running your fingers through his soft locks. 

He sighed once more, unable to stop the blush that appeared on his cheeks again.

"Just shut up already." He scolded you, before reaching around the back of your neck and pulling you closer, causing you to gasp slightly in surprise. Then, he kissed you again, deeper than before and that alone made you melt beneath him. 

It wasn't exactly a tender and gentle kiss like before. This time it was far more passionate and he was far more aware of what your reactions meant.

After a few moments passed, he pulled back from the kiss, unable to stop himself from staring at your flushed features. He wondered to himself if he should get you out of those clothes now.

So, he slowly traced his hands along your sides, earning a slight shiver from your body. Then, he leaned in and pressed one last lingering kiss to your lips, hoping it'll be enough to put some pressure in his pants.

You moaned quietly against his lips and this sound drove him insane. How did you manage to turn him on like this so easily?

He pulled away from your lips just enough for him to be able to speak properly, before whispering to you.

"If I recall correctly... I thought I told you to not wear anything else tonight."

"Yeah, well," you grinned mischievously. "I've never been good at following orders."

"Really?" He questioned, raising an eyebrow.

You nodded, leaning forward to press a chaste kiss to his lips.

"Now hurry up and lay there like a good boy." You teased him. "I’ll take care of everything else!"

"I'd rather do it myself." He complained.

"Oh, come on!" You whined. "What's there to do!? I can take care of that myself! We aren't teenagers." You argued.

He narrowed his eyes slightly. "But-"

"No 'buts'." You cut him off. "Let me put it like this, Shōta-" You said as you grabbed his hand that had been caressing your side and pulled him toward you; then, you moved your hands to the hem of his shirt and pulled it over his head, leaning forward and giving him a quick peck on the lips before nipping at his lower lip slightly.

"-I don't mind doing it for you, love. So lay down and let me take care of you." You finished, ordering him again.

He huffed, but complied anyway. He knew he couldn't win any battles with you when you were determined to do something. Besides, he didn't know what else to say, so all he could do was do as you say.

After making sure he was laying comfortably, you straddled his hips and placed both of your hands on either side of his chest, leaning down with a grin on your face and pecking his nose before capturing his lips with yours again.

He returned the gesture immediately and wrapped his arms around your waist; his hands sliding up under your shirt to hold you close.

And, after a few seconds of this, you slipped your tongue between his lips – which he responded enthusiastically, eagerly opening his mouth to allow you entrance. 

Then, as soon as your lips left his, you trailed kisses along his jawline and down the side of his neck, letting your lips wander around as you explored his skin and trailed downward, enjoying the way his breath hitched whenever you touched him.

When your teeth brushed against the sensitive skin just above his collar bone, he growled low in his throat, gripping your hips tightly to pull you closer onto his lap.

You reacted at that with an approving hum, wasting no time as you proceeded to nibble and suck lightly on his pulse point; moving your hips slowly on his lap to cause a little bit of friction, craving more of him.

His breathing quickened, and he gripped onto your hip bones even tighter as his erection grew harder than ever within his trousers – he had to fight the strong desire to just push you down onto the mattress, desperate to get inside of you. 

You smiled against his neck and continued to grind against him, eliciting a shaky and audible breath from him.

Oh, you were having a lot of fun – you allowed yourself to explore his chest and stomach, trailing kisses along each individual muscle as you went, taking your sweet time to savor every inch of his body as you worked your way down towards his pants. 

By the time you'd reached the waistband of his trousers, his breathing was labored, and he was almost panting with need. Suddenly though, you heard him whimper; so you stopped immediately.

"Hm?" You murmured, looking up at him worriedly.

He gulped. "Can't.. you... keep going... like that...? ...please?" He begged, his voice laced with lust.

You smirked. "Of course. I wouldn't want to deprive you of your precious release..." you replied, offering him an innocent smile.

He looked at you suspiciously.

You chuckled, reaching for his waistband to remove his trousers along with his boxers, tossing them aside to make sure they land somewhere where they wouldn't bother him in the morning.

Then, you ran the tips of your fingers slightly over the insides of his thighs, his cock twitching in anticipation.

He bit his lip harshly. "Are you... are you just gonna...stare at my dick all night?" He asked impatiently. "...is that all you're gonna give me?" 

You giggled. "Nope, of course not." You said as you took his member in your hand; he let out a quiet sigh of relief as soon as your fingers began to massage him thoroughly.

"Eager, huh?!" You teased, and he only gasped in response.

After a short while, you inhaled deeply and licked your lips, lowering your head to position his shaft at the entrance of your mouth.

Shōta's eyes were glued to your face; he felt his muscles tense in anticipation as he watched you slowly drag your tongue across his tip, making him gasp once more at the sensation. 

Soon enough, he reached up and tangled his fingers in your hair, biting his lip as your tongue swiped against the underside of his length.

He let out a shaky breath, watching in absolute bliss as your tongue glided around him.

After you got tired of teasing, you took in another deep breath before sucking him into your mouth; and he couldn't help it – his grip tightened around your hair as pleasure coursed throughout his entire body.

An involuntarily moan left his lips and he tilted his head back, allowing his body to fall helplessly backwards against the pillow.

After a few long moments of stimulation, a small amount of precum splashed onto your lips, eliciting yet another groan from him as you licked it clean.

Then you began sucking again, slowly at first, until you felt him bucking his hips into your mouth as he felt his need for release growing.

He moaned your name between shallow breaths and heavy gasps, gripping your hair painfully as your mouth engulfed him fully.

His breath caught in his throat as his orgasm overcame him; causing him to let out a breathless "fuck!" as he pushed your head further down his length.

Your cheeks then became soaked and you swallowed him down as hard as possible.

Muffled gasps left him as he desperately tried to catch his breath; his grip on your hair loosened and eventually his hand slipped to the bed.

He laid there, breathing heavily as he tried to process what happened. Everything was hazy and his heartbeat was racing. He was so unbelievably weak at that moment, he thought he might pass out any second.

"Y/n..." he managed to say in between heavy breaths.

The sound of his voice sent shivers down your spine; he sounded completely wrecked from your actions, and you grinned widely as you whipped your saliva from the corners of your mouth.

Then, you crawled up over him and placed a light kiss on his neck, causing him to tense up instantly, but relaxing again right after as you continued kissing his skin.

And, when you finally pulled away from his neck and gazed into his eyes, you smiled warmly.

"Hey baby." You whispered, stroking his forehead lovingly as he rested his hands on your hips and returned your gaze.

"Everything okay?" You asked, still smiling at him.

He smirked weakly before responding.

"I think I came earlier than planned." He admitted. "But I'm alright now."

You giggled. "Don't worry too much about it, Sho." You said, giving him a reassuring kiss. "I liked seeing you like that."

He narrowed his eyes as he stared at you.

"You are... something else." He murmured, before grabbing you by the waist and pulling you close on top of him again.

You smiled softly as your lips found his once more, brushing it lovingly against each other.

You didn't pull away or deepen the kiss; you preferred to enjoy his gentle touch rather than rush through it – however, before you knew it, his tongue slid against your bottom lip, and you gladly opened your mouth, welcoming his tongue inside.

He slipped his tongue past your lips easily, feeling intoxicated with the taste of you on his own tongue. You brought your legs together underneath you to support yourself against him, leaning your weight against him as he held you tight in place.

His large palms traveled downwards to rest on your ass, and you gasped in delight when he squeezed it gently.

You could feel he was getting hard again beneath you. Unfortunately though, you were still clothed.

So you reluctantly pulled yourself away from him, breaking the kiss momentarily; causing him to growl quietly in protest.

"Sorry, baby. I still need to undress." You apologized.

"No problem. Just hurry up already."

You chuckled softly and pecked his lips. Then, you stood up straight again to pull your shirt off over your head in a haste, before getting rid of your underwear with the same promptitude.

He lifted himself up on his elbows, watching eagerly as you crawled back onto him. You straddled his lap again, smiling up at him.

He smiled brightly in return and placed his index finger on your lips.

"Not yet." He warned you.

You narrowed your eyes at him. 

"Fine. We'll just wait a little longer until you've satisfied me..." you said exasperatedly.

"Good girl." He cooed as he pulled you closer to him, leaning back against the mattress with you on top of him.

You pressed your lips together again, moving in perfect sync. The kiss wasn't heated or aggressive like last time; instead, it was sweet and soft, full of love and affection.

You cupped his face with one hand as he held you tightly against him. And, when the kiss turned more passionate, Shōta felt his arousal throbbing again, and you moaned quietly as he sucked your upper lip into his mouth.

He broke the kiss after a minute, and you took advantage of that to sit yourself back up, running your hands lazily down his chest, lingering slightly in between his scars before settling your hands at his hips.

He gave you a questioning look and you just smiled and gave him a quick wink, signaling that you were okay.

He seemed satisfied with this response and moved his hands to rest on your hips as he urged you down to continue what you were doing. You obliged without hesitation, lowering yourself on him, making sure he understood how much you enjoyed touching him. 

He let his fingertips graze the skin on your hip bones, tracing lazy circles on them as you shifted slightly, leaning down to taste his lips as you rode him slowly, eliciting sounds of approval from the both of you.

You closed your eyes contentedly, feeling his tongue entering your mouth for a moment before he nibbled on your lower lip, pulling you close.

He had his hands resting on your hips as he allowed you to work at your pace; which you enthusiastically did.

And, as soon as you felt your legs becoming weaker, you couldn't hold back the whimpers that started to emanate from your mouth.

"Sho... I need you." You breathed out after you felt that you couldn't work your hips alone anymore.

A flash of lust filled his eyes the moment he heard those words leave your lips; so he quickly nodded, pushing you up carefully as he sat up on the bed, tugging you on top of him afterwards.

He grabbed your hips and hoisted you up onto his lap, earning a surprised cry from your lips. His arms wrapped around your waist securely as he rocked his hips upwards with slight pressure, creating friction for both of you.

You moaned softly as he leaned forward and pressed kisses onto your shoulder and neck, sending goosebumps all the way down your spine.

You wrapped your arms around his shoulders as you tried to grind back against him; your breathing being already erratic.

"That feels so good..." you uttered quietly as he sucked on that sensitive spot on your neck – just an inch below your ear; and now it was his time to smirk triumphantly.

"So does having my dick inside of you." He said smugly.

You blushed profusely when he mentioned that, and you instantly buried your face in the crook of his neck, hiding your embarrassment as well as your desire into his skin.

He chuckled slightly at your reaction and tightened his hold around you.

"Don't hide from me, Y/n." He told you.

You inhaled deeply and nodded, lifting your head up again.

"I know...I'm sorry." You mumbled apologetically before you kept doing your best to ride him properly.

His breathing quickened as you picked up speed again; he had to bite the inside of his cheek to keep himself from moaning out loud.

"Fuck...!" He breathed out roughly as you rolled your hips harder, causing him to tighten his grip around you; the sound of the bed cracking rhythmically beneath your movements echoing through the bedroom, muffling both of your moans.

You could feel yourself becoming more stimulated by every passing moment, and Shōta could feel it too – you were clenching tightly around him.

Naturally, he increased the pace as well, leaving you breathless with pleasure as you fought back tears.

"Shōta... I... I-" you stuttered, being unable to finish speaking as a deep groan took over your speech; your climax crashing strongly into you, bringing hot tears to your eyes as you tilted your head back, feeling the waves of pleasure coursing thoroughly your entire body.

A pleased gasp left him when you collapsed onto his chest – your body was trembling, your soaked pussy was squeezing him perfectly – right there; right where he liked it the most.

So his arms wrapped around your waist tightly, and he kept his pace until he came as well; emitting a satisfied grunt while filling you up with his warm cum.

Afterwards, the room was completely silent; except for the sounds of the heavy breathing coming from the both of you. 

And, after another few moments passed, Shōta finally lifted you off of his lap and laid you down next to him, before turning towards you to capture yourself in his tight embrace.

"I really missed you." He admitted in an almost inaudible voice.

You chuckled lightly. "I missed you too."

A small smile played on his lips and he placed a kiss on your forehead.

"I can't believe you did that." He murmured sleepily, resting his head comfortably against the pillow.

"Did what? What did I do?" You inquired curiously.

"Made me come first." He muttered in reply, bringing you closer as his arm tightened around your waist. 

You felt your cheeks instantly heating up, yet you couldn't help but grin at him.

"Well, I kinda got carried away..." you admitted.

"I don't care, it was amazing." He said confidently, nuzzling against your hair.

A huge smile grew on your lips.

"How long will it take for you to recover from this?" You asked in amusement. 

"As long as it takes... I should be fully recovered by tomorrow morning though."

You laughed before cuddling up to his side.

"I guess you better go to sleep then."

"Mhmm." He murmured sleepily as he kissed the top of your head. "You go to sleep too." He said.

"Okie dokie buttercup."

"Y/n!" He exclaimed with annoyance, trying not to laugh.

You grinned as you poked his side teasingly. "What?!"

He looked up at you, seeming genuinely annoyed.

"That was horrible." He scolded.

You pouted childlike and shook your head. "I thought it was hilarious, I can't deny that."

He let out a small chuckle, amused.

"Whatever. Now go to sleep."

"Hmmph!" You mumbled mockingly, snuggling closer to him.

He smirked before placing one last tender kiss on the crown of your head, letting his eyes fall shut as his exhaustion took effect.

You also let out another small chuckle before resting your head against his chest; allowing his heartbeat to lull you into a peaceful sleep.

Likes, reblogs and comments are appreciated! Requests are welcome, check the fixed post.

#aizawa shota x reader #aizawa x y/n #aizawa x you #bnha aizawa #my hero academia aizawa #aizawa x reader #mha aizawa #bnha fanfiction #bnha headcannons #boku no hero fanfic #aizawa headcanons #aizawa smut #bnha x reader #boku no hero x reader #bnha smut #mha smut #mha headcanons #mr aizawa #eraserhead #eraserhead x reader #eraserhead x you #fanfic #smut

[cursezoroark]

like ok i think about green so much. i think about green and red and just. god. canonically for some fucking reason he's 13-14 as viridian's gym leader???????????????????? which. does not match his appearance tbh but its pokemon what the hell do i know. imo he looks like 16. but eh.

like ok my personal timeline is. following canon to an extent also disclaimer this is primarily green pov, sliding pokemas to the side im not putting it here. also btw Leaf does exist here but im gonna focus on green and his pov of Red particularly:

______________________________________________________________

5 years - 10 years: tiny babies :'] they get along great at first. pokemon nerds. Green becomes a bit more astute. u know the usual fandom hc of pokemon oak's not the Greatest Parenting. Like He's Trying but Green being a kid notices and a bunch of misunderstandings and mistakes pile yk? kids notice. and kids also assume. and Green assumed. Green starts to antagonize Red more, shifting him from a friend to a rival. the rivalry is starting to bleed out the friendship. Red notices, but not aware of the familial situation, is just hurt.

10 years old - 11 years: whatever the fuck happened in frlg. insane preteen angst between the two. i like to think they got in a fistfight. poor kids.

11 years - 12 years: red disappears around this time. 12 year old kid learns how to be a caveman. Green goes to school. Kind of mumbles through the process of becoming champion, and losing it in less than an hour. he's like halfway through a process of whatever happened when he gets the opportunity and he pounces. school is paused.

13 years old - 14 years old: Apparently a girl named Leaf took over the old champion position. From pallet town too. Not that he rlly cares. Green only hears rumors about Red being at the top of the mountain, repressed whatever had happened and the whole situation of their relationship, doesn't rlly want to confirm for himself rlly. cause. well. don't ask. shut the fuck up.

15- 17 years old: what the fuck do you mean the rumors are true. Green gets egged on to finally check after confirmation of Ethan/Lyra. By Red's mom, Daisy, Professor Oak, the whole fucking town jesus christ- and. really he shouldn't be here. doesn't really deserve to be here. but he finally sees red. its an awkward as hell 2 years, warming up a cold 5 year old friendship. they don't talk about it.

18 years old: it almost felt like nothing ever happened. for a while. he had visited monthly, bringing supplies, warm wishes. the usual topic had been about the gym, the family, pokemon battles, people in pallet town, safe topics. The only one he's willing to breach is how to get Red off the damn mountain, but as you can clearly read, hasn't been successful. red's grown taller than him. annoying as hell, but his eyes still sparkle when he talks about new pokemon. Green restarts his education, and lucky for him his brain is still sharp enough to catch up. He applies for a university in Kalos.

19 years old: he got in, awesome. he breaks the news to Red. he leaves in five months. Red....doesn't seem happy, but he congratulates Green anyways. on a whim to try to cheer him up, Green makes an shitty joke attempt: come down for a dinner celebration in Pallet Town in a week. Just Red's mom, Red, Daisy, Green, and Professor Oak. No one else, and afterwards we can send you right back to your happy cave home mountain, yeah? Red doesn't respond. The next day however, he agrees. Green doesn't know how the fuck that worked.

The dinner: Green breaks the news to his family and Red's mom, and helps a frantic Daisy prepare the food, where he confesses his doubts over Red's reaction. Daisy suggests that Red may have been used to his company, seeing as he was the only human willing to trek Mount Silver monthly just to see him. Green decides to phone Ethan/Lyra to ask them a favor.

The favor: ok so you've been looking for a challenge right. right ok. i thought you would rebattle Red or something. where the hell are you nowadays. why? oh idk just wondering, cause he just got a new team member and I thought you-no? aw man ok cause I can't go to the mountain for a Long While. He needs a training partner. Ok! thanks, smell ya later.

The Dinner Cont.: Red appears with his mom, and. Green notices the redness around her eyes. Red's hand was carefully clasped around hers. Red's eyes flitted almost anywhere but their faces, but he nods a greeting to Gramps and Daisy on the way in, before sitting at the table. the roast duck was ready. Professor Oak lobs his questions at Red, almost automatically. How was he, his pokemon?? How was Mt. Silver's eco-climate, did you know how the league operated- yadda yada yada yada yada Green began to buzz out in the middle of chewing some potatoes. It wasn't until Oak grasped his shoulders, commenting about Green's recent success could Green finally grasp whatever expression was on Red's face.

outside, the dishes were being washed, and the two friends elected to take a walk.

hesitation wrangles his hands, before signing. "I thought you and Professor Oak weren't getting along?"

a waved hand. "he's better. Helped me with the whole application process, so I had no choice but to kind of had The Talk.

"and?"

"It went shit. we got into another fight, but I think I got something through."

"...."

"He still asks about you though. That didn't change. And, don't worry, I stopped him from trekking over there himself. I think he's getting like, old old. He only holes up in his lab now."

"I thought he still trekked into viridian forest to collect metapod shells."

"He only did that to make sure we didn't somehow end up there. we were seven- you know how we were."

"we could've ended up there."

"HA- no- yeah. yeah actually. I think I would have somehow been dragged by you. You used to chase rattatas for crying out loud. It's a shock how you weren't infected by a disease."

"You told me they were strong."

"what did you think 'strong' meant to a 7 year old?"

"......I thought they meant they were the best."

"....yeah well, me too."

"I'm sorry, Green."

"I should be the one saying that, you asshole."

"...."

"I think I should have said that from the beginning. I'm sorry, Red. I'm so sorry."

The walk ended with a silent beat.

After the Dinner: weird clean up, Green feels like the ice had finally, chipped around Red. He hasn't seen Red's mom kiss her son's forehead for a long time. He hadn't seen Red in his childhood room where they used to play pretend for a long time. He hadn't seen Red smile like that..... in a long time. He takes him back to Mt. Silver.

There are 5 visits left until Kalos.

5 visits left: Red makes a face and comments about Lyra/Ethan's sudden visits again. It's kind of funny, seeing a mildly aghast look on his face as he signs about their new look, team, personality even. His eyes shine as he talks about pokemon he has never seen before, what do you mean there's a different form of slowbro????? He almost looks younger, hands now more lively as he talks strategy with Green.

3 visits left: It's Red's 20th birthday. Green and Lyra/Ethan make a trip this time together. Somehow, through Reds mom magic, the cake stays preserved throughout the entire trip. They munch through strawberry cream cake in silence, occasionally breaking into conversation about the travels, preparations, and global news. Red's eyes stay shiny under the candles until blown out. Green gets him a pokemon egg. What it is, he won't tell Red. Lyra/Ethan gets him a new pokegear. the first number he adds is Green.

2 visits left: Red keeps staring at Green. it's pissing him off. He stares as he cooks, as he rants, when he's tending to his pokemon. Green decides to play cool, talking more and more about the process of moving. He has to license his pokemon, contact his mentors, pack all of his stuff. Kalos apparently has good fashion too, did you know, maybe I could finally install a change to your godawful outfit- Red just keeps staring. The egg remains unhatched, yet the signs tell him that its near time.

1.5 visits left:

Red: The egg hatched.

Green: LMAO did you like it??????

[ a blurry photo is sent, barely depicting the picture of a shiny mimikyu, surrounded by Pikachu and venasaur.]

Green: IS THAT A SHINY???????

Green: RED.

Green: OF FUCKING COURSE.

Red: :)

1 visit left: They sit in silence by the open fire, cozy and in their own world. That is, until a finger jolted Green awake. Red only stared back with a serious expression.

"I think I forgave you a long time ago."

"It took me a while, to connect everything together." Red seemed to be reciting this, almost as if he practiced this speech.

"But I wasn't sure. you never brought it up, which wasn't the best. You weren't....good when we were kids. but you were my friend. You are my rival. "

"I understand, why you were like that. and I saw you again, and it was really good. Really good." Red emphasized.

Green blinked. "like we were kids again?"

Red nodded. "It was back to before then. before the championship. We used to talk more. You didn't avoid me, and we battled like usual. we didn't have to worry about league management, or team rocket. I thought maybe we could start over again."

Green grimaced. "But?"

"You're leaving." Finally, with the wind taken out of him, Red deflated right in front of Green, seemingly worn. He almost looked like a limp balloon. Vaguely, Green wondered what his 11 year old self would thinking looking at him. Probably not a nice thing.

He's not 11 now though.

"You....could come with me?" Green froze under Red's incredulous look. "Look, I was an asshole, still am an asshole times 100 there is no denying that. I'm surprised you even let me on this mountain. I thought you would never talk to me again, and I would totally get it. I would maul myself."

"But I want to start over too. If you could just. think about it. You can't room with me, but given you're a champion I'm pretty sure you're able to get some sort of bonus, but only if you're really really REALLY sure, this cold ass mountain never seemed to lift its grip from you-" A pair of hands swiftly covered Green's mouth, muffling him.

A silence swept over the two, before slowly, Red's hands lifted from Green's lips.

"....Let me think about it." Red signed.

"All the power to you, buddy."

A snort. "Buddy?"

"shut up."

Three days later, Green flew to Kalos.

A year later, Red moved to Kalos.

Post Kalos: so you may have noticed i have not rlly pushed on the romantic agenda. yeah i rev the engines slow here. but point is its not my forte most of the time. either way they do get together inbetween kalos and sm. Green writes a hell of a thesis paper on pokemon research, they still have things to hash out and properly explain, but its a working process. Red gets invited to every champion event ever when he finally cracks out of mt silver. If you ask me who catches feelings first, i'm going to say they both did at the same time cause its funny and they annoyed the hell out of every surrounding colleague with their pining.

Misc

red's mimikyu is a girl, like his pikachu

Leaf and Green meet at Kalos, she helped him make an arrangement when Red was moving over. They became rlly good friends with all three of them!!! :D They also found out they wall lived in pallet town, just never met because Leaf entered school rather than their reckless 10 year old adventures.

Professor Oak's whole issue is saying the wrong things when he means one thing. Which causes Green to snap back and then he gets mad at the disrespect and yaknow. they're slowly getting better though. this also did Numbers of Green's self-esteem.

Red does live with his mom before leaving with Green. They visit Kanto as often as possible.

Green and Red's mom had a talk when Green was about 16, about his whole deal. Green wonders how she could smile at him afterwards. But Red's mom is understanding and observable as her own son. Not to say she isn't letting Green go scot-free though. it's what finally cracks Green to reflect.

"Hey so why didn't Green try to get Red off the mountain when he was visiting over and over again?" I did consider that. I think they were so close to teetering off the edge when they battled it out on Mt. Silver that teenager Green was just deathly afraid of fucking things over and scaring Red away from contacting Pallet town again. It was a slow process for him to get Red curious enough about the outside world to goad him into even considering visiting places.

Does Red Sign? Yes! I'm not completely sure how to properly write it cause i am a Novice. (u are free to give sources, though i'm not a writer I will look through yes yes) He's selectively mute in my eyes!

The Viridian Gym Leader position got shifted a few months before Green moved to Kalos, but Lance has always told Green that the position is open if he rlly wants it.

Lyra/Ethan could be whatever u wish. is lyra and ethan the same person and they have incredible gender and two names? sure. are they separate people on their own and they're just a duo? if u want. go ham.

note: i didn't expect this to be THIS LONG but also forgive me i just vomited word thought and it evolved to semi-writing. I'm a completely beginner at this. this is just my interpretation of the red/green whole spiel cause i had brain worms. if urs is different that is cool!!! rad!!!

#pokemon #reguri #namelessshipping #this is long. wuh oh

[frenziedslashers]

Baby Come Home;;

A/N: I have NOT seen GOTG Vol. 3 and probably won't until they release it on dvd unfortunately! I don't have the time to go and see it in theaters so please do not put any spoilers in the comments or tags! I am very much in love with Peter Quill though and have been since I saw gotg vol. 1 when I was like- 11 lmao. BUT ANYWAYS- here is this little thing and I hope that you guys enjoy it. I will be including a marvel character list in my master list for those who want to send in requests. I probably won't do a lot of characters for marvel though since I am still pretty hit or miss with the fandom! This was going to be solely fluff, but then I got carried away...

Pairing: Peter Quill x Trans Masc!Reader

Warnings: Blowjob, piv sex, reader uses he/him pronouns, minors dni!! If I need to add more please let me know. This is also NOT proofread, so beware lmao

Peter Jason Quill. A man of mystery, wonder, and most of all. The man of your dreams. That's at least what he tells everyone when he mentions you.

You'd dent it whenever he'd bring it up. Claiming that he wasn't that important to you. He was a want, not a need!

Yet, as the days passed on. He was beginning to become a necessity in your life. Everything from his dorky grin, to his sarcastic sense of humor. He was your boyfriend. Your Star Lord.

As the days went on, it seemed like he spent less time with you. You were venturing with him and the other guardians for so long. But things got dirty with Rowan, and Peter was scared he'd lose you. Afraid that some space villain could use you to their advantage. A hostage situation that Peter couldn't bare to even think of.

"I want to help," you told him, but he only smiled. Reaching up to brush some hair from your eyes.

"Baby, you can help by holding the fort down. You're safer here," "I can take care of myself, Quill," you spat, and he chuckled at your spitfire attitude. "I know you can, why do you think I like you?" He teased and you rolled your eyes. Crossing your arms across your chest. "I need something to look forward to when I get home," he cooed, holding your hips while swaying the both of you lightly. Pulling your body against his while his head leant closer to yours.

A giggle did happen to escape your lips. Leaning up to press a kiss to his nose. A snicker leaving his mouth at your action. His grip tightening a bit as you reached out to wrap your arms around his shoulders. "All right, but my Star Lord better be quick. I might have to find someone else to bug if he takes too long." You spoke with a small pout, and he sighed. "Well, your Star Lord doesn't like the sound of that. He'll be home as quick as I can," He cooed, leaning forward to press a loving kiss to your lips. He was mesmerizing.

He took forever to come home it seemed. The first few nights were fine. You could handle a few days by yourself, but on the fourth night? That's when it started to feel weird. To feel as if something was missing from the comfort of your bed.

Someone.

Peter wasn't the quietest sleeper, but he was a distraction from your thoughts. You were able to lay on his chest and focus on his heart beat and deep breaths. Or the sound of his faint snoring. Even the sound of him talking in his sleep here or there. He was truly a mouth even in his sleep.

You found yourself curled up on your shared bed many of the nights. Lying on your side while humming the songs that he would play or sing for you. Even going as far as listening to the CD's on the CD player that he happened to find. Falling asleep to the songs that he would often hum around your home. It was comforting and felt like maybe he was there.

Peter on the other hand felt more lost than ever. He found himself looking over his shoulder for you. Thinking of a topic of interest or question to ask you and blurting out the beginning of the sentence before he finally realized that you weren't there with him. Getting a weird glance from his crew mates.

When he was finally on his way home he couldn't move any faster.

He was racing back to your shared home faster than any man had ever raced. Rocket had even dropped a few comments about it. Something about how you had him wrapped around your finger. Or something else, he wasn't quite sure. He could care less to listen to what the talking raccoon had to say.

When Peter got to the house it was empty. The door was locked, and the lights were off. His face fell as he stepped into the dimly lit home. His key for your home in hand. Shutting the door with a click of a button. His eyes scanning for any sign of where you could be. He needed nothing more than to pull you in for a hug. To lay down with you and never let you go again.

"Baby?" He called out, dropping his coat and bag on the nearest chair. His hand holding over his blaster when he heard movement in your bedroom. "Hey, you in there?" He asked, furrowing his brows before pushing the door open with the tip of his boot.

His shoulders relaxed when he saw you standing in the center of the room. Facing the door with wide eyes. The glow of the city lights that bled through your bedroom window left a glow around you that made you look like some celestial life form to Peter.

"Hey," He repeated, the both of you staring for a moment or two again before you jumped into his arms. Peter leaning back to lift you off the floor a little. Then dropping you back to your feet. Arms wrapped tight around your waist.

"I didn't think you'd ever come back," You spoke dramatically, and Peter snorted. "Me? I always come back. How could I leave someone as hot as you waiting?" He teased, and you rolled your eyes. Pressing your hands to his chest while looking to the side. "Nevermind, maybe you could have stayed away another week," you sneered. Which of course, Peter just laughed. Leaning down to press a kiss to your cheek.

"Hm, I could have, but what can I say? I like torturing you." He sighed, leaning his forehead against the side of your head. "I see you're wearing my shirt anyways?" He spoke with slight question. Reaching down to tug at the fabric that hung off your body. It fit you nicely, in his opinion. Something about seeing you in his clothes just did something to him. It always did.

"Shut up before I regret giving you my house key," you snarled, looking you at your lover. A mistake that you'd surly make again.

He was staring at you with such a mix of adoration and mischief. Grinning while running his hands on your sides. "Quill," you warned, but he didn't listen. You knew he wouldn't, either.

His lips were pressed on yours in seconds. Holding you in place with a firm grip. You were thankful. Sure that if his hands weren't holding you up, you would have melted to the floor. Every kiss from him felt better and more intoxicating than the last.

A soft laugh escaped past his lips. The noise bleeding into your own mouth. "What?" You asked between kissed, and he only shook his head. "Just thinking about how much I fucking missed you, is all." He sighed, leading you over to the bed before peeling his uniform off. Tossing everything on the ground. If it weren't for you, your home would be a mess with how he littered all his belongings everywhere he went.

"Miss me that much?" You asked. Your eyes wandering your lovers body as he stripped down to nothing but his boxers. Climbing into bed beside you. "Oh, you don't even know. Got so bad Drax was telling me to shut up about you," He snickered, kissing the side of your face while pulling you closer.

It wasn't until he mentioned Drax that you remembered why he was away for so long. Why you had to stay back and 'hold the fort down,' as he said weeks prior.

"Is everyone okay?" You asked, and he furrowed his brows. Nodding his head while pulling you just a little closer. "Yeah, of course they are." He assured. "We're the Guardians of The Galaxy, Baby. We ain't goin' no where." You could only roll your eyes at his words. Reaching out to drape your arms around him while rolling onto his chest.

"I'm glad you're safe," you muttered against his skin. You weren't even looking at him and you could already see the giant smile on his face. "Yeah, I'm glad you are too." He hummed, reaching out to rub the side of your face. Guiding your head up in order to look at him.

He stared at you for a while. His eyes swimming in yours. Finally parting from your gaze to look over the rest of your features. His thumb swiping over your cheek, then your lips. "God, I missed you," he whined, pulling you in for another kiss. Just this one felt needier than the last. Curiosity surging through you on what spurred this on. Did something happen while he was away? Or did he just miss you that much? Then again, it was Peter. He was always pulling you in for kisses that almost always turned into more than just a kiss. The man was far from innocent, even if he liked acting that way at times.

He rolled you on to your back. His hands sprawled on your sides before they rubbed down to cup your ass. A cocksure grin pulling the corners of his lips tight. "You're such a perv," you hissed against his lips, but he only laughed. His lips trailing from yours, down to your neck. Kissing and sucking. Making sure that there were marks the both of you could see in the morning.

"How much did you miss me?" He asked you with a brow raised. Kissing down your chest. His shirt being the only thing that kept his skin from yours. "Come on, humor me," He pleaded with a grin. "I missed you," "Yeah, but how much?" He asked again, smiling a bit more when you rolled your eyes. "A lot." He snickered, hands running under the shirt to grope at your skin. "Good boy," he teased with a smirk. You wished you could melt away with all his playful remarks. Hide and never be seen again, but you knew if anyone would take care of you. It'd be Peter.

"Have I ever told you how handsome you are?" He asked, tugging the shirt up your body. You moved to help him pull it off of you. Leaving your upped half bare. Which left Peter with ample room to mark and oggle.

"All the time," you responded with a blush. It seemed like one of his favorite things to do was compliment you. Shower you with praise and remind you how loved you really were. Even if you didn't have anyone else. You always had him, and he was sure to let you know that any chance that he got.

He bit the side of your stomach. Your body jolting at the sensation of the pinch of his teeth. "Quill!" You snapped, and he giggled. "M'bad," He slurred, his fingers hooking in the hem of your pants. Dancing up through his eyelashes. "May I?" He asked, and you sighed.

You nearly said 'yes', but a smirk of your own fell on your face. Pursing your lips to stifle a laugh. "No," you spoke in a teasing tone. Curious how he would act to your attitude tonight. "Come on," He whined. Laying his chin on your stomach. "What's a guy gotta do to get in his boyfriends pants?" He pouted. His agony only making you snicker.

"How much did you miss me?" You asked this time. Quill knew what game you were playing. Truthfully, he was all for it, too.

"More than you can ever imagine. I'd like to show you, too," He hummed, staring up at you with such a dreamy gaze. He always looked at you like this. As if you hung the stars and the moons that circled the system. You were more of a God than any God he ever heard of. If he could worship you more than he already did, he would.

"What if I show you?" You quipped, his brows raising with curiosity. "I'm all ears, handsome."

You took your time. Shifting your body while motioning him to lay on his back. Peter couldn't move fast enough. It had only been about three weeks away from you, but he was so pent up already. Aching for any touch you had to offer him. He could eat you up if you'd let him. Be embraced in nothing but you.

Once he was on his back, and you were onto of him. He was more antsy than when he was in control of the situation at hand. His body squirming beneath you while his hands fought to find a place to settle. Your hips, thighs, beside him on the bed, he couldn't decide.

His hips thrusted up when you reached down to palm his erection. His face scrunching up with a mix of pain and pleasure. "Shit," You only laughed at how needy he was. Taking note of how red his face turned when you did. "Missed me a lot, huh?" You teased. "Hey, what can I say? My hand doesn't do the trick when I got you at home," He shot back with a grin. He was something else.

You slid down his body. Hands trailing down his chest, stomach, and then hooking on the waist band of his boxers. Kissing the skin that your hands trailed over. Even planting a kiss on the tip of his clothed erection. Peter let out a groan at that. His head falling back while his chest began to heave. He was already such a mess, and you had barely begun.

Peter let out a grunt when you tugged his boxers down. Lulling him to lift his hips so it would be easier to move them down. "This how much you missed me?" He asked, a moan slipping out at the end of his sentence when your hand ran over the tip of his dick. "You have told me before that I'm better with my actions over words," you half answered the question. Leaning down to lick up his shaft before he could even get another snarky word out of that damn mouth of his.

"Oh dear Lord," He sighed, his hand coming to tangle in your hair while you took him into your mouth. "You're like my own personal angel, I swear," He rambled. Something he often did when you sucked him off.

When his hands tugged a little harsher at your hair, and his hips began trying to thrust up into your throat. You knew he was close, but you didn't let him finish. Pulling off of him with a 'pop' that left Peter whining out in annoyance. "I was so close," he stammered. You already knew that, and he knew that you knew.

When you began climbing over his body he was quick to straighten up. His eyes now focused on yours. Watching you intently as your face grew closer to his. "I love you, Star Lord," he smiled, a soft gaze in his eyes that quickly grew mischievous. "And I love you, Baby," he lulled, gripping your hips before positioning you over his tip. "Shall we?" He asked, watching as you smiled while rolling your eyes. Only answering with your actions rather than your words.

You leant down to lock his lips with yours. Sinking onto him at a lenient pace. "God I missed this," you both sighed into the dark room. You both had missed this, but you also just missed each other. This just happened to be the closest way you could both get to each other.

His hands gripped at your sides. A grunt rumbling from his chest when you moved. "I'm not gonna last long," He breathed out, his eyes already growing heavy. His breath rugged and hips struggling to be still.

"All right, then make it quick and good, Peter," you complied. Rolling your hips while motioning your head to the side. Peter taking the hint to grab and flip you onto your back. The fight to be still was gone. Now he had permission to move as fast as he wanted.

His thrusts started out long and hard, but he was quick to speed up to a pace that had you both making noises. Moans, grunts, pants, cries. All of the above could be heard from your home. Echoing and bouncing through the walls while Peter bounced you on his dick.

"Pete," you called out, and he was there in an instant. Leaning down to lock his lips with your own while one hand came in between both of your bodies. Rubbing your clit while he fucked you just right.

For saying he wasn't going to last long. He wound up lasting longer than either of you thought he would. Able to bring you up to your orgasm before he pulled out and came on your stomach. A mess that he would clean up for you. Just like his trinkets and clothes that he scattered around your home. That was something he would save for later. Right now he was exhausted. Worn out from mind blowing sex, and his long journey where he hardly got any rest.

"Are you able to stay for a while?" You asked, your chest rising and falling with each deep breath that you took. "Yeah, probably a week or two before Rocket decides he wants to steal something shiny," He muttered against your shoulder. Pressing a chaste kiss to the skin. "Good. I have more planned for us than just sleeping together," you tittered, and he smiled. "I wouldn't want anything less, sugar."

#Peter quill #Peter quill x reader #guardians of the galaxy #marvel smut #minors dni #notsfw #peter quill smut

[prismatoxic]

heyyy question. do we know for sure how old Chilchuck's daughters are, because I keep seeing that they're 16 & 14, but that would mean he was 12 (or maybe 13 if we're generous) when the oldest were born. I've also seen that the age of maturity for half-foots is 14 or 15, and yet there's never any mention of him having his children particularly young? idk I'm just a little confused on the math there. (and yeah, I know a year or two under the age of maturity isn't a lot, but half-foot lives are so short, surely it is to them!!) any thoughts on this?

-curiosity anon

p.s. I was looking through the fandom wiki for help on this, and this line from the relationships section of Chilchuck's page made me laugh so fucking hard: "Chilchuck views Laios as not normal.[citation needed]" like the citation needed killed meeee we don't need a citation. it's just clear to see <3

chilchuck was teen pregnant

those are my thoughts

but, to be more serious--half-foot culture is, from what we can see, heavily gendered, with a large focus on housewives and working husbands. in such a society it does not even remotely surprise me that someone would get pregnant before they were a full adult. i don't remember where the girls' ages come from, but as garbage as the wiki is, it does pull from the canon sources, so it's most likely correct. we know all 3 girls are adults, so at minimum puckpatti HAS to be 14, either way. and i'm reasonably positive we know for sure meijack and flertom are 2 years older than her.

if you want my specific headcanon, childhood friends chilchuck & his wife (i feel weird calling her jaylark when i'm trying to talk meta...) were teenagers having sex and when a pregnancy occurred, it was 100% socially acceptable (maybe even expected) to go "welp, guess we're having a kid now" and see it through. having another one that same year was either more carelessness or deciding eh, fuck it, why not two? (i wonder if flertom was Too Much considering it took two years for them to have puckpatti.)

were they ready for kids? probably not, no. but if nothing else chilchuck seems to have taught his daughters some lessons from it all, because flertom and puckpatti remain unwed and without kids as adults. (meijack too, but she doesn't seem to care, whereas her sisters want to fix it ASAP.)

anyway--that very "citation needed" note has been there so long it's just funny at this point. is no one updating that wiki? like, that has to be the case, a vast amount of it is unfinished or has outdated info from before the manga finished. but, yeah, we don't really need a citation for that, we been knew LMAO

#tox answers

[amrv-5]

20 Questions for Fic Authors

HELLO DELLA @fieryphrazes and thank you for the tag, this was fun!!!

1. How many works do you have on AO3?

30! quite a number of anonymous 🤨

2. What is your AO3 wordcount?

689,182.

3. What fandoms do you write for?

MASH! experiencing a beejhawk lockdown. for life

4. What are your top 5 fics by kudos?

If I am being fully honest?

- A Be More Chill fic I wrote at age 16 and don’t want to link (<3)

- Somewhere to Get To

- Anonymous Fic

- Anonymous Fic

- Aspirin or Sorrow. But for fics in my fandom with my name on ‘em:

- Somewhere to Get To

- Aspirin or Sorrow

- Crosswalks, Crossroads

- Nothing is Real

- Moved on Memory

5. Do you respond to comments?

I try to!! I was better about it prior to getting back into classes—not had a lot of time to respond thoughtfully lately but know that I DO see comments and love and appreciate everyone who took the time to read a fic of mine!!

6. What is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

Probably Aspirin or Sorrow, depending on your definition of angst. I think that one’s a happy ending, kind of, but I can also see how it’s not.

7. What is the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

Sailed Calmly On, I think. It’s more explicitly bright than Somewhere to Get To’s end, and (I hope) sort of affirming.

8. Do you get hate on fics?

A few vagueposts. Only maybe twice to my (digital) face! People are usually on the whole pretty nice :)

9. Do you write smut? If so, which kind?

Which kind… not quite sure how to Categorize Them? Anyway the answer is: Yes, absolutely! I guess I’d say the throughline of “kind” is a focus on mutuality, decadence of experience (indulging in a fantasy, in sensation, warmth / luxury / soft treatment), and togetherness heightening relaxation and comfort. Or maybe I have a brand of smut I’m not aware of. I’ll take genre feedback, pls chime in.

10. Do you write crossovers? What’s the craziest crossover you’ve ever written?

Nope!

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen?

Also no.

12. Have you ever had a fic translated?

No.

13. Have you ever co-written a fic before?

Before? No. But…👀 watch this space 🤨

14. What’s your all-time favorite ship?

Newt/Hermann pacific rim close to my heart but I think BeejHawk is my forever ship now.

15. What’s a WIP you want to finish but doubt you ever will?

Golden age of radio beejhawk AU…

16. What are your writing strengths?

Maybe drawing out thematic or symbolic resonances? Otherwise I’d say I’m pretty comfortable with thoughts/internal narration (navel gazing?).

17. What are your writing weaknesses?

Concision.

18. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language in fic?

Not good enough yet at another language to feel confident in it myself unless a character’s quoting a text or a few simple phrases I know well, but think it’s great when others do!

19. First fandom you wrote for?

RWBY kind of. Middle school friends would trade notebooks in the lunchroom and write fic of each other’s show OCs.

20. Favorite fic you’ve written?

Hard to pick. The S2G2 ‘verse is very special to me, and seems the obvious choice, but for one-and-done fav fic? I might go with End of All Octobers, which I’m still pretty happy with over five months later, and find occasionally comforting.

I’m tagging @machihunnicutt @catgrub @catgirladjacent @persianflaw @draftdodgerag @kejfeblintz (if you want!! no pressure :) ) and anybody who sees this and wants to!!!

#tag game #ty della!!! #long post

[burinazar]

(idk who will care about this post but i think long schpiels on extremely specific Thoughts About Media is a major use case for tumblr so you’re getting it anyway) i think i wouldn’t at all have my feeling of disconnect re the rest of fandom’s* interest in Bondord if he had been a woman. this isnt a bizarre critique of some sort its just a funny thought about me and what i like. twisted inversion of motherhood with a mad scientist character feels like, the concept has More For Me than the same with fatherhood and would create more intrinsic interest in the character

*especially ‘my cohort’ — the contingent who seems to have similar predilections like fic/shipping activity and also much of the portion of the fandom that’s, like, adult women — largely those folks are big Bondrode fans and enjoy Guebon and i’m like, i relate to your habits guys but have very little interest in your man. (for those who haven’t heard me bitch about this before: i dont hate him but i have littlr interest in seeking out art or fic of him or anything and I’m kinda sad that he’s the only adult character who ever got like figures and nendo and stuff.)

hopefully no one takes this personally lol. hell, i don’t care if Bon fans think Belaf is boring! that is in fact vastly preferable to people who are randomly mean about my ships. please feel free to just ignore my favorite characters’ existence instead.

anyway like

if he’d shown up as A Horrible Science Woman and then the movie recast her into Also A Loving (But Still Horrible) Mother i’d probably like this chara much more. it’s not like because Ooh Evil Woman Hot or something. actually i think i still wouldn’t find her hot the way most of the aforementioned Bondord Enjoyers do. i pick up a new ‘character i think is actually hot’ very rarely and then they stay forever. i have very limited slots for that tbh. (also this is just me complaining now and no longer relevant but such characters tend to be pretty unpopular lol and have very little r18 content/fic available and generally this drives me to despair. i drew a picture about the top offenders once.)

it’s more..i think the fucked up inversion of motherhood is more intrinsically interesting to me than with fatherhood. it’s just a personal interest thing. i think that sort of thing is neat. if i ever bother to go watch chainsaw man it’ll be because i know that’s a thing that it gets into and many people like what it does there. also there’s how much i dig mapping parts of this show onto other parts (in fact this is already the context in which i do manage to find him interesting sometimes — the Riko Waz Bondird sliding scale of what lines you’ll cross is the one context in which i have a brain cell to focus on this guy lol.) and in that regard motherhood is part of the premise of the show and all and ways it can be inverted and fucked up is a big deal in my favorite arc even if this isn’t *why* it’s my favorite arc. so i think i’d also enjoy being able to make more parallels with it. even though the general parallel of ‘versions of parenthood’ is still available, i think bad mad scientist fathers are just a less intrinsically Oh Cool concept to me than ‘bad mad scientist mother.’ (Yes I Do Like Prospera Btw)

related: even though I love love love Waz and you guys know this, it also took a while for that to click into place after meeting him. but one time I saw Oriole’s girlWaz tenderly cradling one of the Irukos and i instantly realized that if he had been a woman and the visual of him with the baby and a knife had thus inevitably channeled inverted motherhood and dovetailed with the existing examinations of motherhood in the arc and in abyss as a whole, i would have loved him instantly instead of having to let my thoughts on him percolate.

#orphan hole tag

[bitchapalooza]

I think Rosiepuff dies after they had escaped the tree. Chef is alone, and leaves after capturing just a single troll. If they were in the tree, she would've been catching a lot more for trollstice and probably had help. I also think brozone was created after escaping the tree, because it would've been hard to go separate ways in a small tree. I also think the bergens wouldn't have let the trolls be super loud in the tree, because it would have gotten on their nerves since they were always unhappy when it wasn't trollstice before the ending of the first trolls. Branch acts as though he hadn't seen any of them since the band broke up, which would've been hard if they were all confined to a single tree. A lot of people believe Branch to be older than Poppy but I'm not sure if that's necessarily the case. We also don't know much about troll aging considering tiny diamond could immediately talk and seems to have an intellect similar to an adult troll.

That’s what I thought too until I took the inconsistencies in the series into account. The timeline we’re presented with doesn’t make much sense to me; we’re told Trollstice happened 20 years ago. World Tour and Band Together are a month apart. The band splitting up was 20 years ago. On the fandom wiki it seems to claim it’s been a years between trolls 1 and 2, but I’m not sure how much I can believe that when I don’t see the actual source stating that. We are to assume that Branch and Poppy are at least 21-23 in the first Trolls, making them toddlers when the escape from Bergen town happens, and at least 24 in trolls 3. When the flashback to Rosiepuff happens, Branch looks to be about 4-8 years old, while in Brozone he was probably 1 or 2.

I’m sure they thought things out well enough but just didn’t exactly execute it very well since Branch’s past wasn’t a focus until trolls 3 and neither was the total past of the pop trolls, just their escape and what it’s led up to and what we got in trolls 2.

I think the bergens treated the trolls like livestock and figured that if they didn’t do their thing they probably wouldn’t actually taste good. There would probably be many gray trolls around if their spirits were down and repressed so often, which in their logic would be bad livestock and probably be seen as an infectious disease, leading to many needless dead livestock to prevent the spread of disease and the end of trollstice. The trolls probably had designated sing times, or just kept their singing to specific people(ie bands or singers) and kept it to INSIDE the tree(probably a naturally occurring hole in the trunk or in their respective individual pods) where the noise muffled enough to not attract attention.

As for the brothers going separate ways, well they’re small. The tree is very big to them. It’s probably more like a whole town or city for them. You’d actually be pretty surprised at how easy it is to not see people you know in a small town— I live in a small town with limited neighborhoods(like 2 or 3 actual neighborhoods and the rest are RV parks and mostly year round empty cabins and vacation homes) and apparently more than 5 of my coworkers actually live not far from me. And yet, I never see them when I’m out and about running errands(unless it’s the only Walmart between towns, other than that, I never see them. I don’t even see the one who lives right across from the post office! And I go to the post office very often! I’ve only encountered coworkers outside of work 3 times in the past 2 years). They could easily avoid each other if they were actually really trying to. And the escape wouldn’t really change that fact because many families probably got separated in the fray anyway, both in the group with Peppy and the group with Viva. Again, idk how trustworthy the wiki is and where they get their sources from, but it does mention Clay and Viva having escaped the Bergens together.

And I’m not trying to argue or anything, I mostly took this ask as an opportunity to explain my thoughts behind the timeline lol 🤷‍♂️

#ask #anon ask #trolls #trolls dreamworks #trolls headcanons

[yallmakemyassitch]

Alright, I'm back!

Here's something for a part 2 of the Tabi x Ayana request~ (hopefully it's decent enough 😅) So...

Ayana is absolutely loving the reactions she's getting from her boyfriend. She could feel his chest tremble and shake with laughter while he squirmed helplessly underneath her.

Even for her, it was rare to hear the Russian laugh this much and in this manner. Usually it would just come out as a derisive scoff or a sinister sounding chuckle (usually at someone else's expense), not guffawing like a child watching something funny on tv or being told a silly joke.

Regardless, it was the most endearing thing she had ever heard from Tabi, and she wanted more~

When she planted a few more pecks higher and higher up the neck to where his ear was, it made Tabi let out a particularly loud, almost feminine sounding sqawk noise & his hysteric protesting increased.

(Tabi was forever grateful for the fact that Agoti wasn't there because if he had heard that he'd NEVER let him live it down. 😣)

She decided to take a break after that to let him catch his breath, looking down at him lovingly all the while.

. . .

But right when Tabi thinks the worst of it is over, he sees Ayana take in a deep breath and lower her face back down (at an agonizingly slow pace). He knows exactly what's coming and his white skull pales even more. He tries to plead to his girlfriend for mercy but it was already too late; she blows a succession of big long raspberries along the side of his neck, from shoulder to ear, even one under his chin. Tabi was completely done for after that; he couldn't even speak anymore. By the fifth one his body lays limp as his booming laughter slowly fades into silent wheezes.

Ayana knew it was time to stop after that. She leans back a bit as she watches him gasp for breath again. He puts his arm over his face to wipe away the tears that had fallen; he could still feel the tingling aftershocks of the tickling lingering on his neck, so he rubbed that away as well.

Caressing Tabi's cheek, Ayana asks, "You okay Tabi baby~?"

He opens his eyes again, "*panting softly* ... That.. that was evil..." he says while trying to glare at her, but with how worn out he was it probably looked more like a tired frown.

Ayana could hear the hoarseness in his voice, and he looked like he was too exhausted to even get up from the couch, she kind of felt bad.

"Aww... Would some warm milk make it better?"

Tabi thought about it. As embarrassed as he was about the whole thing, he couldn't find it in himself to stay mad at Ayana for very long, not when she was being this motherly and caring. And he could definitely use a drink right now.

"hm.... maybe. Can you make the vanilla milk?"

Ayana smiles and gives him a soft kiss on the cheek (making sure to avoid his tickle spots this time) "Of course~ ".

With that, she gets up and walks to the kitchen, returning with a warm cup of vanilla milk sprinkled with nutmeg not long after. Once Tabi finishes, they return to their previous snuggling position on the couch and they fall asleep content.

The End. ♡

Oh good grief I ended up writing a whole one-shot. 🤦🏾‍♀️ Sorry if I overdid it. 😅 But hopefully this will help serve as enough inspiration for what you need to draw.

I hope you like it. 😊👍🏾(stay tuned for part 3)

I've been sleeping on this for months, it's finally complete!

They made out at the end

Anyways, holy shit fellas, this took a minute to create (⁠-⁠_⁠-⁠;⁠) I wanted to add more but I wanted to get this out asap and needless to say, I had a baller time.

As my previous post suggests this is gonna be my last post for a while. I want to expand my audience and focus on other fandoms other than fnf (when I branch out, I tend to attract a lot of attention)

Stuff like Villainous, Spooky Month, Pokemon, Murder Drones, Mandela Catalogue, and OC content are some ideas I have. This won't mean I won't have fnf content (I'm especially working on my fics over my hiatus.

I don't wanna be a one trick pony anymore, I need more diverse content on my account. Anyways see y'all then, I suggest not sending anything until I return. Byeonara for now~ (⁠✿⁠^⁠‿⁠^⁠)

Part 1

#fnf tickling #lee tabi #ler ayana #the ex mod #tabi mod #my art #friday night funkin #ask answered #anon #headcanons #<- i know they're actually oneshots but im too damn lazy to make a whole new tag for that #headcanons and one shots sent will just be tagged as headcanons 🤷‍♀️

[ninja-go-to-therapy]

Monster? I Hardly Know Her!

The Pearce Joza obsession lives on im afraid 😔

ao3

Prompt: "How many fingers am I holding up?"

Fandom: Mech-X4

Characters: Spyder, Harris, and Veracity

Summary: Spyder wakes up, delirious and injured after a monster attack. Harris plays severely unqualified nurse.

Trigger Warnings: injury, mentioned vomit, mentioned death

809 words

Something was screeching. High pitched and whiny, kinda reminding him of a school bell… was he at school right now? No, that didn’t sound right. If not there, then where was he?

He groaned, blinking his eyes open. The screeching didn’t go away. In fact, it only somehow got even worse. He couldn’t see that well, vision all… blurred. Did he normally wear glasses? He couldn’t remember. He was pretty sure he didn’t, but then why else would his eyes be so… messed up?

A dark shape loomed over him. His first thought: dad? His second: please not dad.

The screeching (which he was now beginning to realize was just a ringing in his ears) was polite enough to quiet down some. A win was a win.

“Spyder?” the shape called, sounding like it had come from underwater. Or maybe he was underwater… he really couldn’t tell. “Can you hear me?”

“Harris?” he attempted, throat so scratchy it was painful. He coughed, his lungs burning at the action. “Wh’s goin’ on?”

“Oh, thank god. You took a real bad hit… or, a couple, more accurately. Do you remember the fight?”

His brain felt like it was full of soup, so… probably not. Was that why everything sounded so far away? “Did I win?” he croaked, squinting at the Harris-shaped blob.

“You were sort of… unconscious for most of it. Veracity had to hop on weapons, it was… quite the experience. But yeah, we won.”

He moved to sit up, immediately regretting the attempt. His body curled in on itself on pure instinct, raw pain sprouting in his chest like a… plant or something. 

“Oh, shit, yeah, don’t move!” Harris said, words stumbling over themselves. “We still need to check you out. Leo went to get some supplies… um, on a scale of one to ten, how are you feeling?”

“Mmm, ‘ve had worse,” he slurred. “‘nt hear good…”

“You can’t hear good?” Harris clarified, getting a low groan in response. “Okay, okay, I’ll forgive the grammar this one time on that. Uhhh… how many fingers am I holding up?”

Spyder squinted at the shape of his friend, trying to focus on his where his hands probably were. “Mmm… twelve?” he guessed.

“Yeah, that’s… definitely not right. I’m gonna need to scan you, hold still, okay?”

It wasn’t like he had much choice. If he moved, he was half convinced he’d disintegrate on the spot. God, everything hurt. He’d been knocked around plenty in his life, and he’d definitely had worse, but jesus. It was like his insides were on fire.

But he couldn’t stay down. He couldn’t afford to be dead weight on the team, not even for a minute. Not when he was constantly teetering on the edge of their collective patience. Not after the day Harris had been infected with ooze, had screamed at him that he was always in the way. 

He needed to show them that he wasn’t just the useless fool who didn’t add anything to the team other than plain annoyance. Quickly. Before they realized that it really was all he was and kicked him to the curb. 

“Wh—stop trying to get up!” Harris ordered, pushing him back down. Spyder’s head spun violently, and he had to give himself a moment to swallow down a bit of puke. 

“I’m good,” he hissed through his teeth, doing his best to filter the pain out of his voice. “All good. We’re good.” He still couldn’t actually focus his eyes enough to see the expression on his friend/severely unqualified doctor’s face. 

“I will strap you down, I swear,” he insisted, obviously annoyed. 

“Kinky,” came the unexpected voice of Veracity from somewhere near the door. 

“Wh-that’s not what I — no!” Harris stammered. Spyder wished he could see how red he probably was. He bet it’d be cute. Harris always somehow was.

“Relax, dumbass,” she said with a half-laugh. “Anyway, how are you feeling, kid?” She asked, her voice closer, now. 

“Mmm…” he managed, re-assessing his body to check for pain. To his faint surprise, though it was still definitely there, it felt so… detached from him, now. He felt like he was dreaming. “I think ‘m dying.”

“What?” they both cried in deeply concerned unison. 

Spyder grinned in what he assumed was Harris’s direction. “Cause you look like an angel.”

“I hate gay people,” Veracity mumbled under her breath. 

“I assume,” he continued, “'cause I can’t actually like… see you.”

“That’s… a problem. What can you see?”

“Shapes’n colors,” he slurred, giggling slightly. His head felt like it was going to explode. To be perfectly honest, that did sound pretty sick, though. Not as sick considering it hurt like a bitch. “G’nigh… sweet prince…” he mumbled, hoping his friends would still be there when he woke up again. 

They probably wouldn’t be, but he could dream.

#whumptober 2023 #no.1 #“how many fingers am i holding up?” #mech-x4 #mech x4 #fic #injury tw #death tw #vomit tw #mentioned death #mentioned vomit #kat writes #fanfiction #mech-x4 fanfiction #hurt/comfort #whump #angst #whump writing #whumpblr #spyder mech x-4 #spyder johnson #harris harris jr #veracity campbell #harris mech-x4 #veracity mech-x4 #disney xd #disney channel #i could NOT think of a better title I'm so sorry to the <5 mech x4 fans that will read this

[sundeathh]

Hello honey, I hope you are still taking requests. Maybe angst with a fluffy ending 👀👀👀 Like old regrets and heartaches are replaced by hope when Aizawa and the reader meet again

Hey sweetie! For now I'm still accepting requests, but my inbox is starting to queue up, so I may close soon.

I'll probably take a little longer to write the ones in the queue since I need to focus on some things in my life right now. But since I've been having fun while writing, I'll probably come back as soon as possible!!!

Now, about the request itself, I left a few things unspoken so you could fill in the blanks however you would like, but I still set out a little bit of the plot. I hope you enjoy! ♡

.

WELCOME HOME

Request | Masterlist

Pairing: Aizawa × GN!Reader

Fandom: BNHA | MHA | word count: 2,7K

Categories: romance; drama; slight angst

CW: None I guess, though I almost cried while writing lol

At five in the afternoon, Aizawa is standing outside the dorm building, although he has no idea why he's doing this in the first place.

But in fact, his reason was simple.

He was hoping to make amends with the person who broke his heart so many years ago – he knew it would be a difficult task, considering all that you had gone through before, and the fact that you were still adapting to your new job.

However, despite all the obstacles, he decided it would happen today anyway.

As he stands outside your doorway, Aizawa thinks back to when you were just kids; about how you would tease him until he would be a flushed mess and poke him out of his shell because you couldn't stand seeing him alone while the other kids played with each other.

You became friends with him fast. You were talkative, easygoing, blissful, and so much more. You were everything good that he craved. And that was why you got along so well: he was the calmness you needed for dealing with your hyperactive mind while you were the strength he faulted, pushing him further to wherever he needed.

You did everything together, from playing hero and villain together through childhood, till studying together as teenagers. You went from two dumb kids that played with each other to two somewhat less dumb teenagers who got along too well. You would do anything for each other.

You also went to the hero course together at the prestigious hero school in Japan. 

You could even get married someday if he had asked you to.

Shōta sighed, smiling, though he felt sad as he stared absently at the wooden pattern on your door. He remembered how you used to cry so easily whenever you didn't get what you wanted from him as a kid; but wouldn't tell anyone, acting stubbornly around him as if the pain wasn't visible on your face.

On the other hand, he was always so dense. It took you a long time to finally break through his walls, slowly peeling them down until he started opening up to you. In the process, you made him realize how much he valued you.

It took time, of course, but you eventually succeeded. And Shōta cherished you dearly. He loved you in a way he didn't even know he was capable of loving.

Shota shook his head, trying to clear his mind before knocking on your door. No matter how hard he tried to fight and forget his struggles against it – he always felt the truth would come up sooner or later. 

And it came way later than he would like, sadly. But it didn't matter, he needed to know why you left.

He needed to know why you had left him as if he was nothing to you. Or why you ended things between you both before he could even say the words out loud.

It hurts to know you weren't together anymore. Knowing you could hate each other for what happened while you were still in high school.

He thought you wouldn't be willing to forgive him for what he did to you. And anyway, here he was: back to your feet, even though you also hurt him as much as he had hurt you. Even though he thought he knew better, or that he had gotten over you.

You were his first everything. And as much as he forced himself to deny it, you were also his last. He couldn't be with anyone else after you. And he didn't know why.

It just didn't feel right.

You were all he had, all he cared about, and all he ever wanted. 

Right now, however, this was not an experience he thought he would have to endure, nor one Aizawa ever hoped to relive again because, after you left, he buried his feelings deep in his chest.

That was why he thought he got over you in the first place. 

But he didn't. 

And all it took for him to realize it was seeing you again, walking as beautiful as ever through the U.A hallways, with the same grace you had when you were just another student walking there.

He was speechless. He was also static. At first, he thought he imagined things. Then, he thought he was confusing someone else with you. But he wasn't. It was you.

The news of your hiring as a homeroom teacher reached his ears only after he saw you there with his own eyes. But he hadn't spoken to you yet. He was avoiding you, watching you at a distance.

That is, until today, a few weeks after you started at your new job.

And when you opened the door, your relaxed expression faded at the sight of him. You weren't expecting him to come to you so soon. 

You weren't expecting him to come to you at all. You knew he'd must been mad at you and knew what he was going to say next.

You had prepared your mind to hear his scolding ever since your hiring – you knew he was working there beforehand, but you decided to go with the job application anyway.

After all, it wasn't like you hadn't thought carefully about meeting him again before sending your application. You were longing for it.

Anyway, Shota didn't say anything. Instead, he gave you a half smile and asked if he could come in.

It was the last thing either of you expected. But you let he in regardless.

The second his eyes met yours after you closed the door, he regretted coming there. The look in your eyes, the way you held yourself, and the fact that you didn't even greet him at all and just gave him a curt nod told him all he needed to know.

And that was all he needed to know. Because it was clear that you didn't want to deal with him right now.

There was still pain, betrayal, and sadness dancing in your eyes. But he also noticed something else.

It was fear, pure and genuine fear in your eyes. You had the same expression you wore the day you told him you were leaving: fear, sadness, guilt, and regret written across every feature of your face.

But that was all there was, and he chose not to dwell on the past, and instead sort out whatever he could fix up now.

He whispered your name. Your gaze immediately shifted towards his at the sound, and a soft gasp escaped your mouth once you met his piercing gaze.

His own eyes widened at how broken you looked. There were so many emotions filling your expression that he was sure you had never seen them all before in your lifetime.

He tried to speak, but no words came out.

Damn it. How he wished to just hold you again. But instead, he only stood there, staring at you. 

"Um… hi, uh..." you began awkwardly before clearing your throat. "Do you need anything?" You asked nervously, unsure about how to proceed.

And he only averted his gaze from yours, saying nothing else.

You sighed. "Okay. Have a seat, I guess." You said before turning around and walking towards your bed, without giving him another glance.

He hesitated for a moment but then followed in, sitting next to you. He tried to make it look casual, but it was awkward. And you noticed, so you glanced over to him, waiting for him to speak.

"Listen," Shota starts. "I'm here because-"

"Look, Aizawa," you interrupted. You saw him flinch at the usage of his last name, but he didn't say anything.

"I know." You said. "I know what you're going to say."

You paused for a moment, debating on how to proceed. Shota didn't say anything, waiting patiently until you spoke again.

"I understand if you are angry. I completely agree with that. But I didn't leave you. I promised myself years ago that I would never give up on you, and I still do, but-" You stopped yourself.

You didn't have any excuse, did you?

"We both know there was never a promise between us in the first place." He said calmly.

You bite your lip, colleting your thoughts. Aizawa knew you were holding onto some feelings you've kept hidden for years. It was beyond clear.

"Yes, you're right." You continued. "I am sorry for hurting you." You apologize. "I'm sorry for leaving and making you believe I didn't care."

He looked away from your gaze.

"And... for making you feel like I was abandoning you." You added quietly.

There was a long silence, but it wasn't as awkward as you were expecting it to be.

After what you said, Aizawa didn't seem as angry anymore. He seemed disappointed. Annoyed, maybe. At how long it took for you to admit to yourself how much he meant to you.

"Why did you leave?" He asked quietly, his voice calm. You sighed, feeling defeated – he wanted you to speak your mind, and so you did.

"I had no choice." You confessed, tears stinging in your eyes from the pain and anger you felt towards yourself, but you ignored it. There were more important things to focus on right now.

"I never wanted to leave you. I felt at home with you, but I had to go anyway. I had to... I didn't want to..." you trailed off as your voice cracked, causing you to tear up. He furrowed, worry etched on his face.

He wanted to pull you into his arms and rest your head gently against his shoulder, but he restrained himself. There was too much you still weren't ready for yet.

"You were my home." You whispered, your heart aching. "But you'd be too far away… because my parents wanted me to go to study abroad. They wanted me to follow the family lead and become a great hero like them. They pressured me to move away from everyone I cared about and take risks I wasn't comfortable taking. I- I didn't want to. But it was expensive for them, so I agreed, but that didn't mean I wasn't going to miss you every day!" You explained yourself through quiet sobs and sniffs.

He swallowed thickly as your hand brushed against his, and your fingers wrapped themselves around the hand he had clenched into a fist.

"My family... they had their reasons." You said. "But I didn't. I had no reason, and they pushed me and pushed me until it became painful to be where I didn't want to be." You laughed bitterly, your gaze blurry with tears as it drifted to the floor. "It sounds so stupid now. But I was young and couldn't choose for myself. So I stayed there until I could choose wherever I wanted to be on my own."

Your lips quivered as you struggled with your tears. "I'm so sorry." You said. "I'm sorry for leaving you. I'm sorry it took me so long to realize how much you meant to me and for taking me so long to act on it. Sorry for coming back so late." You wiped at the tears falling from your eyes as they spilled uncontrollably down your cheeks. "I'm sorry."

Silence fell upon the two of you afterward; your breathing became uneven due to how emotional you both were. Neither of you had realized just how close you were sitting until you found yourselves practically pressed against each other's side.

Aizawa's attempts on holding back his feelings during all of these years caused him to break down in front of you – and this was the last thing he planned to do when he knocked at your door a few minutes ago. 

He didn't even bother wiping his tears away as you broke into uncontrollable sobs, finally burying your head against his shirt.

He didn't expect this, and neither did you. He was too shocked to react as the two of you cried together, but once you relaxed into him, he hugged you tighter than ever, burying his face in the crook of your neck, closing his eyes as he inhaled your so missed scent.

It almost felt unreal to him, having you in his arms like this once again. He didn't remember the last time the two of you hugged each other this tightly.

Tight enough that it felt like he could feel the way your heart pounded wildly against your chest as if it needed air.

All this time, he thought he was alone in this world. And he had convinced himself about it.

Because you did let him. Even though it wasn't intentional, even if you didn't want to hurt him. 

And when you were younger, when you knew you would have to leave for good, you gave in, deciding to put a small piece of yourself in the past without a care, pushing him away from you. 

But you didn't do it the right way. He thought he had done something wrong, or that you had grown bored of him, causing you to leave him.

That was why his dumb young self thought you had found someone else. That's why he was rude to you the day you had planned to tell him why you were so distant. 

But his thoughts made sense inside his head, especially considering how you acted towards him. You were suddenly so cold. So not like yourself.

The sad truth is, after everything he said and done to you at that night, he deserved nothing but the coldest, most brutal treatment you could give him right now.

But instead, he was receiving a warm, caring, loving embrace. Something so sweet that reminded him vividly of how things used to be.

"I'm sorry." He whispered, tears still dripping down his face. "For not being there for you and assuming so much from you. I shouldn't have done that." He added, pulling back just enough to make eye contact with you.

You chuckled softly before shaking your head, leaning forward. "There's no need for apologizing. I don't blame you for anything anymore." You said truthfully. He looked at you from the corner of his eye, giving you a reluctant nod. He still felt guilty anyway.

And it seemed like fate knew that you both needed comfort right now, so it decided to grant you what you needed.

"Shota," you started, your voice sounding softer this time.

You looked at him directly into his eyes, your gaze holding a pleading you weren't even aware you were wearing on your face.

"Can I kiss you?" You asked.

You were surprised by how quickly his body reacted to your request, his lips immediately connecting with yours. His hands then gripped onto your waist, bringing you closer to him.

His tongue soon invaded your mouth as he kissed you passionately, almost desperate. And you let him, not bothering to push him away. You missed his kisses. You longed for how he always felt so secure against you. You missed him. 

A small part of him thought this was a bad idea, that you would push him away again. But as he pulled back, you grabbed his shirt, tugging him into another kiss. One he returned with equal ardor. 

You pulled away slowly after a few minutes, your foreheads resting against each other as you caught your breath. You both stared into each other's eyes for a while as your smiles faded into grins – one of joy, happiness, and relief.

That kiss was only one step closer to healing, and even though your relationship hadn't recovered yet, you knew that everything would work out eventually.

You both knew it. You both wanted it. And it was enough for both of you.

And now, you were just relieved that he forgave you, knowing it was all worth it.

Then, he nuzzled your nose with his own before capturing your lips again. And you returned the favor tenderly, wrapping your arms around his neck, pulling him closer.

He held onto you firmly, and you couldn't help but smile into the kiss, content as he held you in his arms, feeling safe for the first time since you left that night.

A faint smile appeared on your lips after you pulled away, gazing at him.

"I'm glad to be home." You whispered before your smile widened a little more.

And Shota smiled brightly just as well, reaching forward to brush a stray lock of hair behind your ear, cupping your cheek with his palm afterward.

"Welcome home." He said back. "Thank you for coming back."

#aizawa shota x reader #aizawa x y/n #aizawa x you #bnha aizawa #my hero academia aizawa #aizawa x reader #mha aizawa #bnha fanfiction #bnha headcannons #mr aizawa #aizawa shōta #aizawa shouta #aizawa sensei #mha fanfiction #boku no hero fanfic #fanfic #fanfiction #bnha x reader #mha headcanons #mha x reader #aizawa fluff #aizawa angst