#I have always had an irrational fear of hearing footsteps when I cant see the person

[housewifebuck]

🔐🧟‍♀️🔍🪐 my loooove

hello lover <3

🔐 something no one would guess about you

uhhhh. uuuuummmmm. help I literally cannot think of anything. the first thing that comes to mind is I was homeschooled my whole life but I feel like thats actually pretty easy to guess based on my personality

🧟‍♀️ scariest thing that’s happened to you

OKAY. once a few years ago I was going down the hallway in the middle of the night to go to the bathroom right. my house was completely dark, everyone was asleep, glasses off, defenseless and in my underwear, and half way down the hallway I hear heavy stomping footsteps start running up the stairs and rounding the top and coming down the hallway towards me so I ran the rest of the way to the bathroom and turned on the light and looked behind me and there was nothing there. it scared the fucking shit out of me ill never forget it. the footsteps were way too heavy and distinctly human to have been one of my cats. it sounded like a full grown man in work boots. I literally cannot explain it to this day it was so fucking weird and terrifying

🔍 what character do you enjoy writing for the most

rn its gotta be Eddie.....my god I love projecting on that little gay dude

🪐 favorite shows / series of all time

uahhghghh.....probably bob's burgers cause its my white noise show

[stickyy]

could i get a reader x ururaka where the reader kidnaps her and forcibly 'protects' her by coddling her and keeping her in a soft room with everything she could need and not letting her leave, even if it means restraining, or even injuring her? tysm! i'm really looking forward to seeing your blog grow! (btw if you cant/dont want to write ururaka, midoriya or shinso are also good!) ♡

thank you so much for your kind words!! :D i hope you enjoy, i kind of went for a more somber tone bc i like Angst, so this was moody and fun to write!

warnings: yandere!gn!reader, kidnapping, very mildly graphic mutilation (hands and ankle), drugging mention, very vague vomit mention, angst, best friends to lovers (gone wrong) /s

word count: 1.5 k

note: the scene describing mutilation is sandwiched by two dashes (-), incase u dont want to read it :D

AFTERMATH

The pattering of rain against the kitchen window is loud, accompanied by the sizzle of food on the stove and the distant chatter of news anchors coming from your TV in a domestic cacophony of sounds. It’s a Saturday morning, and it would be a pretty relaxed one if not for the deep pit of dread in your stomach. You had a rough night, to say the least. Trying to keep yourself present, you rub the dark bags under your eyes as you tend your routine of making breakfast every morning. Maybe a meal between the two of you will fix things. You hope so, at least. You tune into the television in an attempt to distract yourself.

“... are still in search for missing Hero, Urav-”

You’re suddenly uninterested, shutting the cable off with haste. Breakfast is as good as finished, anyways. 

The house is quiet, save for the rain, and the silence settles as a sickly chill under your skin. Taking your time to ensure your footsteps are quiet, you head towards the door at the end of the hallway. The normally innocuous door frame looms over you and you want to shrink away, go back to a time where things were okay. You place the tray on the small table outside of the room, fishing for the keys in your pocket. There are 3 locks; two require keys, while the other is an opposite facing deadbolt. You make quick work of opening them, daily practice rendering you nimble. With the door open and the keys back in your pocket, you grab the tray and push the door in with your hip, your stomach dropping and your heart fluttering simultaneously at the sight of Uraraka, still sleeping peacefully.

You place the tray on her bedside table gingerly, opening the curtains to her window afterwards. The dim, muddy light wakes her, her form stretching under the plush covers.

“Good morning!” you chirp, over enthusiastic as you sit on the edge of her bed. Her hair is messy, skin splotchy from laying in one place all night (you give her sleeping pills at night, and they tend to keep her in one place). She rubs sleep from her eyes cutely, sighing before speaking to you.

She hums in response. Even when she’s angry, she’s always so polite, sweet enough to offer you any response after what you did to her. Her gentle voice, no matter if she’s laughing or talking or screaming or crying, is music to you. The noise does more to set you at ease than you’d like to admit, her voice like stitches to your wounded heart. You can’t help but smile, warmth spreading over your skin. You love her so much, it’s why you do what you must to keep her safe.

“Did you sleep well?” you ask, as you do everyday, setting up her breakfast in front of her. She’s silent. You expect as much, yet it still stings, and you spare a glance at her to see an expression you can’t quite read and don’t quite like. That’s all it takes for the pit to return, guilt and remorse stirring through your veins. You can only muster offer a soft noise in response, sitting back with your own plate of food. You start first, choosing to focus on the flavor of the food, the softness of the duvet, the rain- anything but the silence. 

But it’s so difficult; you want nothing more than to be able to ignore her, to not feel so attached and needy and sorry. She burns so brightly, even when she’s upset, and you’re a moth to the flame, unable to look away for long. You don’t even realize that you’ve scarfed down half of your food, but it’s glaringly apparent when you look to Uraraka’s food to see it untouched, cooling rapidly. You glance at her face yet again, and her forlorn expression prompts you to break the thick silence.

“Does it still hurt?”

She flinches but doesn’t respond, hugging her arms to her chest and turning away from you. The rain is deafening against the window, and you notice you’re not hungry anymore.

“I told you I was sorry,” you say softly, eyes unconsciously darting to the bandages on her hands, trailing down to her legs, obscured by the covers. She continues to ignore you. You can’t take it, you need to hear her say something, anything.

 “You know I hate hurting you. I hate it, but you tried to run again. Why? We’ve been doing so good, I thought you were happy! I thought you finally understood! You have everything you need here, and even if you don’t, I can get it for you. I’m not even mad, not anymore, so please just-”

“Just let me leave,” her voice is hoarse, and you can see stray tears trailing down her flushed cheeks, pained eyes trained on your face. You swallow, using all of your willpower to turn away from her gaze. You stand suddenly, taking a deep breath before heading into the bathroom, grabbing the first aid materials you left in there. You make the executive decision that it would be better if that conversation never happened, so you pretend as such when you return to the room, replacing your somber expression with a warm smile.

“Let’s get this cleaned up,” you peel back the covers and take a look at her ankle. 

-

Her shin is twisted slightly straightened yet still awkward in angle, absurdly swollen, skin littered with large splotches of wine purple, faded blue, and putrid yellow bruises. It looks like it hurts, and you feel yourself deflate, guilt chewing at your insides yet again. You’d never meant to do this to her, but you had no choice. Last night, while you were cooking dinner, you figured you’d let Uraraka keep you company as you chopped vegetables, seeing as she had been extraordinarily compliant recently. That was a mistake, as you had to act quickly when you heard the screech of the chair pushed back suddenly and the loud stomp of feet against hardwoods. You caught her before she could reach the front door, threw her to the floor, and in your irrational fit of panic you stomped hard, once, twice, three times, over and over until the sickening, dull crunch of bone snapped you out of your frenzy. In all of your time with Uraraka, both pre and post living together, you’d never seen her cry quite like this. Her loud, pained, fearful sobs made your stomach turn, and no matter how hard you tried to console her, she wouldn’t stop, thrashing to get your arms off of her. She couldn’t move far, and so you had to wait and watch her writhe in agony until she tired herself out, chest heaving, face covered in tears and snot and drool. You helped her to her room and quickly wrapped the wound, leaving her alone for the rest of the night. You were unable to sleep, hunched over the toilet for the majority of the early hours due to waves of nausea, crying spells ebbing and flowing.

(The bandages on her hands are different. Ridding her of her quirk was the only way to ensure she’d stay put. You’d had a few drinks, taken the largest kitchen knife you owned, and did what you had to. The wounds were cauterized and healed, but you kept the bandages on so she wouldn’t have to look at the scar tissue where the last ligament of her pinky fingers were missing.)

You clean her ankle, gently caressing the distorted flesh with rubbing alcohol. She returned to her reticence, save for small (cute) pained noises when you pass over a particularly tender spot. You take solace in the moment, cherishing the chance to take care of her. 

(When you rewrap the wound, you’re deliberate in doing it incorrectly. It will heal, but it will heal wrong, and then she’ll have to rely on you to get anywhere. The idea is tantalizing, and you suppress a shiver.)

-

“There, all done,” you grin up at her, surprised to find her looking back, expression exhausted but aware, awake. You pack the materials up quickly, climbing back onto the bed. You take note of her breakfast, undoubtedly cold now.

“I can heat that up for you.”

“‘M not hungry.”

That’s that, then. You decide not to push, instead opening your arms in a gesture of peace, knowing how much she loves (tolerates) your cuddles. She gives you a scrutinizing look, before nodding once, the only invitation you get. You move the tray to her bedside table, quickly scooting next to her and wrapping your arms around her gently. She doesn’t quite reciprocate, settling for just leaning against you, but you’ll take anything you can get. Your nerves are set alight, and you vow to yourself that you’ll never hurt her again. You know you did the right thing, keeping her fed and pampered and safe. You’d make up for it, devote yourself to seeing her smile again, even if only once.

“You’re not mad at me, right?” you can’t help but ask, always seeking her approval. 

She’s silent. The rain doesn’t stop. 

[fanmoose12]

Yay! Okay I have two scenarios and I cant pick so you can choose 1: Levi and hanjis child gets kidnapped (so ig this will be an au) and these two become the deadliest people alive to get their child back (pain duo is acary). 2; levihan child has been sad lately since they're parents havent been spending time with them but they know their parents are busy. Levi and hanji surprise them one day by having a day off and they all spend it together doing fun stuff(fluff) Thank you!

so i chose the first scenario because i guess i hate happiness and fun lmao hope you still like it tho and take care :3

Hugo closed his eyes, hoping that when he opens them again, it would all turn out to be a dream. A nightmare, induced after watching too many scary movies with his mother. He would open his eyes and see his father. His daddy would gaze at him softly and gently ruffle his hair, telling him to get up and go brush his teeth before coming down to have breakfast.                              

Hugo hoped that when he opens his eyes, all the scary men will be gone and he will wake up in his bed back at home, or even better, he would wake up in his parents’ bed, surrounded by their love and safe from any harm.

However, when Hugo opened his eyes, his hopes were cruelly shattered. The big bad men were still surrounding him, their scary guns aimed at him.                

“Are you scared, kiddo?” the man in the center asked. He bared his huge teeth and Hugo suddenly remembered a story his mother once read to him. It was a tale about a little girl, who got lost in the woods and happened upon a hungry wolf. But Hugo wasn’t some helpless girl, he was a son of Hange Zoe and Levi Ackermann, and even if he was trapped in a wolf’s lair, his parents were the fiercest and strongest hunters in this world and they would never let some stupid wolf lay its pawn on him.                             

So Hugo raised his chin, staring defiantly at the scary man in front of him. “It’s not me, who should be scared!” he said, raising his voice to try and hide its shaking. He furrowed his eyebrows, mimicking his father’s expression. “My parents are already coming for me! And when they arrive, they’ll tear you to pieces!”                             

The men around him started to laugh. “I hope your parents are coming here, kiddo. That’s why we took you.”                               

Hugo widened his eyes in surprise. They’ve been�� they’ve been laying some trap for his parents. Just like the wolf in the story! Hugo’s head began to fill with panicked thoughts, but he tried not to focus on them. There were no one in this world, who could possibly outsmart his mother, and there was no one stronger or quicker than his father. They were just trying to intimidate him, but Hugo wouldn’t let himself get scared so easily. 

His mother once told him that he had all the best parts from her and his father. That he was strong just as his father, and smart just as his mother. And now he just had to remember that. He had to remember whose son he was and what kind of person his parents tried to make out of him. He would be fearless and strong just as they were. And no one, no matter how big they were or how many guns they had, would never make him afraid.         

“Can you drive faster?”

“I’m already driving as fast as I can, Hange. Calm down.”

“Calm down?!” Hange cried out, looking at Levi with wide eyes. “How the fuck should I calm down, when my son has been kidnapped? Who knows what they are doing to him! If you don’t worry about him that doesn’t mean I shouldn’t!”

Hange realized what she actually had said almost immediately. She clasped her hand over her mouth and stared at Levi apologetically. 

“Levi, I’m so sorry! I didn’t actually mean it, I know you worry ju-“

“Shut up, Hange,” Levi cut her off with a sigh. “I know you didn’t mean it. Your panic just messes with your head, I get it,” he took one hand off the wheel and outstretched it towards Hange, holding her hand and gently caressing the backside of her palm with his thumb. “But we’ll arrive there soon and then we’ll save our boy. Don’t worry, those idiots wouldn’t dare to harm him. They probably are more interested in hurting us than him.”

“When I find those bastards,” Hange growled, squeezing Levi’s hand almost painfully. “I’ll make sure they’ll pay for taking away my son. They will remember once and for all that no one should mess with my family.”

Levi nodded, his face set in an equally determined expression. “We will make them pay.” 

Hugo sat on a cold floor, surrounded by darkness from all sides. A small window on the door of his cell did nothing to brighten the room, and he shivered, trying not to think what could be lurking in that darkness. His fear was irrational, he tried to remind himself. There were no monsters hiding in the dark corners, monsters didn’t exist. If they did, his mother would surely know about them as she seemed to know about everything else. 

Besides, there was more real and tangible threat outside of his cell. The scary men threw Hugo in that cell some time ago, and now the only thing he could hear was the sound of their heavy footsteps and the quiet mutterings. 

Hugo hugged his knees and started to slowly rock back and forth, wondering why his parents hadn’t come for him yet. He was sure they would come, didn’t doubt them for a second, but the cell he was in was damp and chilly and Hugo wanted to go home already. His clothes were dirty from sitting on the floor and he couldn’t wait to take a shower and change into his pajamas. He was getting sleepy too and he wanted nothing more than to drink hot cocoa, prepared by his father, while listening to a fairy-tale his mother would read to him. 

Hugo closed his eyes and imagined himself sitting in his bed, wrapped in a blanket and nestled between his parents, feeling their warmth and listening to his mom’s quiet and soothing voice.  

Hange slowly circled the building, trying to find an entrance. Suddenly she saw a man, lurking in the darkness. The man saw her too, his eyes widened as he probably recognized who she was. His hands went to his gun, but before he could even aim it at Hange, a bullet hole appeared right in the center of his skull. 

Hange turned around and nodded at Levi, silently thanking him. She took out her own gun and jerked her head in the direction the already dead man came from. Levi replied with a nod, his face set in a grim determination. 

He slowly followed after Hange, his eyes looking around for a sign of slightest movement. Together, back to back, they entered the dark and too quiet building.  

Hugo gasped, when the eerie silence, which was surrounding him before, was suddenly interrupted with a loud bang. Hugo immediately knew what that sound was, his parents took him to a shooting range a few times and the sound of a gun firing was unmistakable. Hugo covered his ears with hands, the loud bangs already making his head hurt. 

Suddenly a door to his cell burst open, and Hugo tried to hide in the shadow, afraid that it was an enemy coming to get him. But as he gazed at the figure more closely, he saw a too familiar silhouette and Hugo ran to it as fast as his short legs carried him. 

“Mom!” he shouted, as he reached her and hugged her legs tightly. His mother fell to her knees, pressing him to her chest. 

“Honey!” she cried out. “Oh my god, Hugo, I’m so sorry! You must be so scared!”

“I’m not scared!” Hugo protested, clinging to his mother. He felt his eyes fill with tears and he pressed his face to his mother’s chest.

“You are not?” Hange withdrew from her son to take a better look at him. He shook his head vehemently and tried to hide his tears from her. Hange let out a sound that was half-laughter, half-sob. She was so happy to see her son, alive and well!

“Did they hurt you?” she asked in an angry, low tone. Hugo shook his head again, and Hange sighed with relief. 

She briefly hugged her son again and then she took his precious little face in her hands, peppering his cheeks and nose with gentle kisses. 

“I was so worried about you!” she whispered, her voice shaking. “My little fearless boy, I’m so proud of you!”

“Oi, quit it, Hange,” came Levi’s voice from behind. “You’re embarrassing him.”

He came to kneel beside his wife and son, his hands immediately wrapping around both of them.

“Did you finish them off?” Hange asked quietly. 

“Yeah,” Levi replied, just as softly. “I made sure that no one would repeat the mistake of hurting our son.”

“Good.”

“Are you alright?” Levi asked Hugo. The boy nodded, smiling at his dad. 

“I’m fine, you don’t have to worry, dad!”

“Tch,” Levi rolled his eyes. “As if I would ever get worried over something stupid like that.”

He came to hug Hugo as well, tucking his son inside his arms and inhaling his scent. His embrace was even tighter than Hange’s and Hugo felt how his father’s hands shook slightly. 

“I’m fine,” Hugo repeated patting his dad’s back comfortingly. 

“Of course, you’re fine,” Hange agreed, coming to embrace her two favorite boys. “You are our brave little boy, it’s not that easy to scare you.”

“That’s right!” Hugo agreed cheerfully. 

“Come on,” Levi urged them after a long moment, his voice steady and calm as always. And it was probably a trick of light, but Hugo saw how his father’s eyes glistened, as though he was crying. 

“We should get your home. It’s way past your bedtime, young man.” Levi got to his feet and then scooped Hugo in his arms. 

“But you will make me cocoa before I go to sleep, right?” Hugo asked, staring at Levi with his big brown eyes. 

Just as his mother’s, Levi thought fondly. He sighed, knowing full well that he could never say no to those eyes. 

“Only if you take a shower first.”

“Alright!” Hugo beamed. “Mom, will you read me a bedtime story?”

“Of course, honey,” Hange gently ruffled his soft black hair. “Which one do you want?”

“Red Riding Hood!” Hugo replied without missing a beat. 

His mother laughed and went to kiss his forehead. 

Then she hugged her husband by the waist and the three of them slowly started to make their way home.