#I realized that I could turn him into a paper doll instead!

[literaila]

Make a list of every single shenanigan teenage reader and Gojo have done

Doesn't have to be detailed I just want to know what these losers did to make Yaga so mad

• broke a vending machine because gojo kept trying to pull the drink reader wanted out of the machine with cursed energy instead of letting her pay for it

• accidentally bleached everyone’s clothes when it was readers turn to do laundry because gojo swore he “knew a secret”

• broke a tv remote when wrestling over it because gojo kept turning the volume up to 1000% when reader was trying to sleep

• set the oven on fire when trying to bake a cake for suguru’s birthday and then gojo “accidentally” pointed the fire extinguisher at reader instead of the oven and ruined her clothes

• picked the locks to the gym so reader could show gojo how to take the basketball hoops off of the wall

• spent a whole day scaring people by gojo teleporting them both around into peoples rooms for “practice”

• stole a car in the middle of the night just for fun

• when everyone was gone one weekend the two of them just went around everyone’s dorms and replaced the framed photos of their families with pictures of gojo

• developed a dance routine except the “dance routine” involved them tackling each other in the classroom and getting suspended from class for three days

• when reader found out that gojo was using his six eyes to cheat a look at his christmas presents and pulled his hair until he was crying from his pretty blue eyes

• sneaking away from group outings at popular districts to go and get dessert approximately 17 times

• sneaking out in the middle of night to get gas station food and inevitably getting caught each time because of the barriers around jujutsu high approximately 26 times (yaga but a deadbolt on the outside of gojo’s room to lock him in but then he learned how to teleport)

• “forgetting” to complete their chores and spend their time beating each other at video games instead

• hiding all of the food in the kitchen in suguru’s dorm and replacing it with empty bottles of suguru’s fancy hair conditioner that they’d both been collecting for up to six months

• pretending that the other died for multiple hours at least once each (everyone believed it)

• throwing everyone a surprise birthday party (so it wasn’t a surprise after the 3rd time) but timing it so that yaga would only show up after everyone was gone and the classroom was a mess

• changing the newspaper out with fake versions to mess with yaga (this is readers personal favorite. also includes more pictures of gojo)

• endless prank phone calls

• literally endless (suguru eventually stole satoru’s phone but they would just use readers instead and shoko threatened to stab them both where “no one would realize it wasn’t an accident”)

• kept messing with nanami’s coffee in the mornings until eventually he got a thermos with a lid instead of a mug

• reader picked haibaras lock and they drew on his face (he thought it was funny though ((includes chibi gojo))

• reader got geto to start collecting fly heads and he assisted the two of them in letting them go in the common room right before yaga came back from lunch

• stealing the files yaga had on the gojo clan

• using shokos medical books that she “studies” to make paper airplanes to see whose would fly the furthest

• gojo replacing readers sheets with digimon ones (she kept them)

• making six voo doo dolls of yaga and leaving them around campus (you know how he feels about stuffed animals)

• reader hiding all of gojo’s candy in the library where he would never find it (yaga sat him down the next day and accused him of using school space as his own personal pantry and got banished to the library for several sparring lessons)

• sparring so late at night that suguru would inevitably send a curse to bite satoru

[doink-boink]

Paper dolls!! ^^

[writingoddess1125]

Theater Brat pt. 3 🎭

Buggy x FemReader

Some more Angst then Fluff but still fun!

You felt like your head was pounding, groaning softly as you felt yourself come to. Was it the alcohol from the party in Tangerine town?.. but you don't remeber drinking that much?.. It wasn't until the image of Buggy's eyes on you that evening that everything came to and you snapped your eyes open finally.

It was almost pitch black but with a single spotlight on the ground about 10 ft from you, yourself seated on what could only be described as a wooden red throne. Sitting up you see you're dresses in a far too expensive gown, very similar to one from your favorite musicals but dyed a sky blue color as well as jewelry hanging down from your ears, neck and wrist. Even a ring placed on your hand which was gold with a sapphire in the center.

A sense of panic hit your chest as you tried to sit up- far too quickly as the ache in your head returned. Making you sit back down on the chair.

"Sorry, those Muggy Balls can cause drowsiness and headaches.. I thought I gave you the smallest one I had but- seems it was still too strong" You heard a all too familiar voice say, turning to see Buggy standing just to the side of the throne. Leaned against it as he used one of his knives to clean under his nails-

"B-Buggy what the hell? I agreed to go with you- why did you?"

"To make it easier, it's harder to sneak a person put instead of just kidnapping them while unconscious. Way quieter" He said with a crooked grin, Leaning back up and walking around the throne like chair. Looking you over like a predator who had finally caught their prey.

"And the costume?.." You questioned, swallowing thickly as you saw his eyes linger over your form.

"Just a gift, for your care of me while with the Strawhats" He said with a smile. His hands playing with your hair as he stepped to your left and sighed contently at the sight of you.

"Bring it here!" He yelled at some shadows in the corner, before a grand desk was brought out and set infront of you by two of his crewmates. The finest of pens, pencils, paints and paper also set upfront of you, as well as a bowl of fine sweets you had once expressed enjoying and even popcorn.

You couldn't help but feel both flattered and a little scared how much he had thought this threw. Your favorite snacks, your favorite drinks, he had truly listened to it all and you hadn't even realized it.

"I have prepared my best show yet, and as promised. No 'Gore' or anything to scare you Doll' He said teasingly, which surprisingly drew a chuckle from you.

"I hope you enjoy, and I do want to see what you can draw up for me" He said with a wink as he stepped back from you and into the waiting spotlight.

"Ladies and Gentlemen! Boys and Girls here to witness the greatest show of all! Buggy' Circus of Delight!" He announced, the lights coming on all around you as flocks of different acts came out in at first a symphony of chaos. Before they organized in a perfect rehearsed fashion.

Act after act was done perfectly, from the dancing Lion, to Buggy's juggling act which even included his own head that made you laugh st your seams. Musical numbers of your favorite songs, Acrobatics, Contortionist and everything under the sun.

By the end of it you were Grinning ear to ear and applauding the group.

"That was absolutely wonderful! You all are very talented and lovely, I'm impressed" You praised, which earned received smiled from the crew. Buggy walked over to you and leaned against the chair again to see what you had made, Grinning widely at the drawing you had conjured up.

"Perfect-" He muttered, You looking up at him to see his eyes on you and not your painting. Blushing a bit as you smiled.

"I'm glad you like it Buggy! I wanted the highlight the diversity and talent of your show" You said, cheerfully, however you were surprised when Buggy detached his hand and gently grabbed yours. Looking to see you had removed the bracelets and ring-

"You took them off?" He questioned, raising a brow at said jewelry on the desk.

"Oh I didn't want to get ink on them or scratch the paper" You admitted with a calm shrug. He frowned slightly.

"If they were damaged or you don't like them I'd get you new ones" He said with a shrug, Acting like the jewelry wasn't that important or hard to find.

"(Y/N) I promise I'll give you anything you wish for. Nothing is too expensive for you" He said, his eyes glowing with that same emotion as before- one you didn't know until now... obsession.

"There is no need for that, I promise. Besides Buggy this stuff is lovely but far too expensive for me. This could cost most people a fortune and I have never worn expensive things" You emphasized, but saw Buggy smile and pick back up the ring and slide it back on your finger. Giving your hand a gentle squueze.

He waved over his crew members who brought his throne over- you realizing he must have had a second throne for you either brought up or made as his own was sat next to you, his hand still holding over yours. As if also rehearsed a large meal was brought out and set on open spots of the desk. You noticed how much this seemed to be planned- the show, dress, jewelry even the lunch and snacks gifted to you... it was perfectly planned.

"Say what did you think of the juggling?-" Buggy said quickly, pulling your mind from yout questioning thoughts like he could read you so openly.

You and Buggy talked for a while, eating lunch together and tlaughing. Buggy expressing delight in the artistic rendering that you had made and even flexing his arm to show that he was way buffer then most, laughing you to break out in giggles which he clearly enjoyed

"This has been delightful Buggy, But I must get back to my crew" You said with a happy sigh having enjoyed the day greatly despite the scary start, not catching the darkened look that grazed Buggy's eyes.

"Alright, But it has been a long journey and show for you. How about you take a bath and rest a little? I have a room you can use" He said with a kind smile, which seemed off in a way. However you nodded non the less.

After the very nice bath and having a few snacks you laid in the massive bed. Dressed in the nice pajamas that one of the crew members dropped off for you.

You looked around, noticing something you hadn't noticed before. The gold looking bolts on your window so it couldn't be opened, how secure this room was and separated it was from the crew quarters. Paired with something that immediately caught you eyes- painted directly above your head was a blue bird- around its closed wings golden lines wrapped around it..

"A golden cage..." You whispered, dread filling your soul as you looked around. The expensive clothes laid in the cherry wood draws, the massive sleigh bed that was filled with the finest of of pillows and silk blankets. All the art supplies and trinkets you could ask for.. This was your cage- He wasn't going to let you out.

Rushing to the door you try the handle, feeling the door not give way and the handle not budge. Locked.. from the outside. Rapidly you started to pull at the handle, feeling tears well in your eyes as the realization fully set in.

"Oh Gods..." You gasped out, fear running through your body as you stood back. Realizing what was happening to you- A prisoner of Buggy, his own personal friend that he would never let go of-

You started to bag against the door and cry out for release but your please were ignored. Instead silence only following you- As fear crept into your system you sat at the stool near the window looking out at the sky and crying silently.

It was a few hours before you heard the sound of the door being unlocked. Watching as Buggy stepped in with a large tray of food and drinks that was clearly ment to be shared, a smile on his lips.

"I see you're settling in well- a few of my Freaks mentioned you had started to bang on the door and rattle the nob.." He said, his gaze hardening a bit while his voice stayed jovial. Watching you as you stood up from the easel and a painting you had started after crying.

"Buggy why are you keeping me here? This isn't what we agreed to! You said I could go"

"Did I?-" He said with a amused smile. You couldn't tell if this was a punishment for his imprisonment or a reward for your presence, Clearly it was as clouded to you as it was to him- He simply smiled seeing the confusion and fear in your eyes and brushed it off. Instead walking to the record player in the room and putting on one of the records, slow music began to bleed through the horn and filled the room with song.

"You're my person (Y/N) I can't let you go that easily"

Stepping forward towards your shaking form he gently wrapped one hand around your waist and another holding your hand. Guiding you to follow him in a gentle sway-

"I promise, I'll make you happy. Happier then anyone else-" He said calmly, his hand holding your tightly as the two of you swayed to the music. A few tears running down your cheek and felt his lips kiss them away slowly. Smiling against your cheek as he pulled back just enough to look you in the eyes as the music began to come to a end.

"and I'll kill anyone who dares try to get in my way"

[adiluv-moved]

✦ : ❝ 𝐬𝐰𝐞𝐞𝐭 𝐝𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐦𝐬 ꒰𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐦𝐞꒱ !

꒰synopsis—wc꒱ in which your bed is taken and you try to get your roommate to share; 872 words.

꒰warnings꒱ akademiya roommate wanderer, lumine as traveler, reader is not traveler/is from sumeru, barely edited.

꒰adi moment꒱ i cannot stop being haunted by ideas right before i'm about to go to sleep, please send help!! also, doing a bit more experimenting with the titles, so let me know what y'all think! super short drabble, but hope you enjoy! ໒꒰ྀི*ˊ ᵕ ˋ꒱ྀི১

"Need I remind you," comes the chiding of an ever familiar voice, staring you down with dull eyes. "You were the one that oh, so 'graciously' insisted upon giving up your room to the Traveler." A reminder, the Wanderer you've come to call your roommate poking you in the shoulder as those words leave his lips.

He's unimpressed, that much is clear, gaze focused upon the pillow held beneath the crook of your arm. The spare blanket tugged over your body sags, sliding off one of your shoulders, as if cowering away from the figure in front of you. Contrary to his usual tone, there's no sense of mockery inside of his voice, and he looks fully ready to close the door in your face as resign you to your fate.

In fact, he even attempts to do so, only stopping when you quickly jab your foot in the door—despite known fully well that he possesses the strength necessary to simply crush your foot and end the conversation. He doesn't, of course, because you had threatened to tell Lesser Lord Kusanali in retaliation, instead choosing to shoot you a deadpanned glare as you're given another chance to make your case.

You flash an innocent smile. He rolls his eyes, and yours crinkle.

"Well..." You muse, humming as you grip the doorknob and attempt to push further into the space. A gust of wind that would have no natural place being inside of the dorm gently pushes you back, the Vision hanging on his chest providing further confirmation of his manipulation. "The couch is uncomfortable. And cramped. I couldn't possibly have a good rest there."

"I don't see what that has to do with me." And, perhaps the low light is simply playing tricks on your eyes, but you can almost see the ghost of a smile pulling up at the corner of the Wanderer's lips, a barely noticeable glint in his eye as you pout at your misfortune.

"You do realize that she's a hero, right? One that's—quite literally—saved several nations within Teyvat? Including Sumeru? Aren't you Vahumana scholars supposed to care about that?" You decide to ignore the convenient fact that she turned up on the Wanderer's doorstep, acting like old acquaintances, because he'd refused to answer any of your questions on that matter and you were certain that he actually would slam the door on your foot if you decided to bring it up.

Considering the fact that he works beneath the Dendro Archon herself, though, perhaps you should've just come to expect all sorts of mysterious circumstances following him around.

"And yet, a hero of legend couldn't even bring herself to book a hotel room. How kind of you, to be providing such charity to the needy."

Your lips thin as he snickers at the situation, shoulders slumping as you look away. At this point, you wouldn't have been shocked if both the traveler and her companion—Paimon, was it?—had heard your discussion, spoken in hardly hushed whispers with walls thinner than the paper you wrote your reports on.

How they could put up with the man's attitude was still something that eluded you, though you supposed you'd have to ask yourself that question, too.

Whatever. At least you weren't the one being uncourteous.

"Just shut up and let me in already."

Finally, the door swings open, allowing you a direct line of sight into his bedroom. Neat, and sparsely decorated, to the point where one might've assumed it uninhabited at first glance. The ever growing stack of papers and doll sitting directly in front of his pillow were the only real indications of his presence, the only things that convinced you he was real after all.

That, and the insolent personality of his that had absolutely no business staying stuck in your mind all the time.

"Just make sure that you stay on your side of the bed." He mumbles, sharp edge prevailing despite the low volume. You quickly scurry in, closing the door behind you before he has the opportunity to change his mind.

Turns out that you didn't actually follow his orders, if the photos that Paimon snapped of the both of you sleeping together—bodies curled around each other to the point where it was near impossible to decipher who was holding who—were any sort of evidence.

She proudly bragged about them, slamming them on the table with a smug expression as she teased the red-faced 'Hat Guy' sitting right in front of her. Whether or not he was upset or embarrassed, you remained clueless about, though the near white-knuckled grip he held on his butterknife seemed to promise answers. Based on the awkward look on the traveler's face, cold-blooded murder seemed the most likely possibility.

Against your own nosy nature, the role of an innocent bystander seemed far more appealing. At least, with the cup of warm chai in your hands, you could pass off your blush as a reaction to the beverage's heat.

On the bright side, considering the softened look within your dearest roommate's eyes when you'd awoken—before the traveler's companion had burst in asking for breakfast… he might just allow you back into his room the next time your find your bed unavailable.

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[zablife]

Fragile Things

Jack Nelson x female reader

Author's Note: Written from an anon ask I can't find in my inbox anymore, requesting some soft, smutty Jack thru the seasons. It turned angsty at the end as I listened to "Munich" by the Editors, but I hope you still enjoy it! It's short with an open ending, but I thought I'd post it instead of letting it sit in my drafts any longer.

Warnings: hint of smut, mention of cheating

The open window blew a gentle spring breeze into the room along with the scent of lilacs you’d planted in the fall. You’d kept busy those dark months as Jack traveled, trying not to think what might happen if he never returned. It hadn’t been easy to calm yourself in the early days, whispering prayers into the wind. Your unsteady hands craved his touch upon your shoulder tethering you to reality. Without it, you felt as though you might float away. Sometimes you still found it difficult if he went too long without visiting.

But he’s here now, you thought as you gazed up at him, memorizing every golden fleck in his bright green irises. The feeling of his arms caging your upper body protectively was comforting and you dug your heels against the backs of his thighs, urging him nearer to your aching core. He pushed you further into the mattress with a deep stroke of his pelvis, full lips brushing yours before licking into your mouth hungrily. It was the first time your mind had truly quieted in weeks.

As you came down from your high, you whimpered at the loss of him as he withdrew from your body, rolling onto his back with a contented sigh. He reached for you with one arm, beckoning you to his side and you nuzzled into him. His fingers carded through your hair, massaging your scalp and tangling in your disheveled locks. You pressed your cheek against his bare chest to feel the rhythm of his heart, allowing it to lull you to sleep when he suddenly spoke. 

“Gotta go to New York tomorrow, doll,” he whispered on an exhale of breath. Closing your eyes against the tears threatening to fall, you snaked a hand around his waist possessively. It had only been two days since his return and the thought of him leaving again was too much to bear. You glanced at the clock on the bedside table quickly realizing your crushing loneliness was only hours away.

You sat up, clutching the bedsheet to your chest as you stared at Jack in disbelief. “Can't you stay any longer? You just got here,” you protested, hoping to change his mind.

Jack rubbed a hand along your back soothingly. “I know, angel, but it’s business. I have to,” he explained. Despite the softness in his voice, you took no solace in it.

Turning away from him to reach for his jacket, you fumbled in the dark for his cigarettes and lighter, needing something to distract you. “You’ll be a good girl for me, no pouting?,” he asked and without having to look, you could imagine his mouth curling into a charming smile. As your fingertips brushed paper, you frowned slightly. Pulling it from his pocket, you squinted in the light to make out a woman’s name and a New York address. Your heart dropped at the sight of the unfamiliar loopy handwriting and tomorrow's date inside a heart.

“Doll?” he called out when he realized you were softly shaking your head. His large hand came to rest atop your thigh and gave a gentle squeeze to get your attention, but your thoughts had drifted back where he could no longer reach you. You were somewhere in the garden planting flowers while he dined with her, falling asleep in a cold bed as he warmed hers and dreaming of a man who never thought of you.

You stood from the bed and glared down at him with a quiet anger he instantly recognized, the accusation written over your tear stained face. “People are fragile things, Jack,” you mused. “You should be careful what you put them through."

[wasteofbandagesxx]

I trusted you

{Nikolai x reader}

Content: abuse, toxic, murder, toxic love, unhealthy relationship

There were no genuine feelings when it came to the relationship. It was nothing. There wasn't love or affection, just two people there are colleagues that work with Fyodor himself. There was no love anymore like there used to be. Nikolai honestly despised you because of how "soft" you gotten and how "boring" you've become. He was only in for the thrill, and you were lacking all the qualities to his ideal lover. Normally, he'd kill if he had an obsession with someone, but he also murders them when he gets tired of that person. You were no longer a thrill for his entertainment.

Who knew your time would end up so soon?

"Dove, come here real quick. Dostoevsky gave us a new assignment that involves blowing up a building and killing more government officials. Isn't it exciting?"

You walked over to him, the tapping of your feet was heard on the marble floor as you make your way over to white haired clown. It was too quiet, the silence was irritating Nikolai while you were unbothered. You peeked at the paper to see a bunch of missions that were listed on it. Nothing too chaotic since Nikolai will be doing all the work. "It's alright I guess. Though I hate getting my hands dirty so I'll leave the rest to you." Your boring reply left Nikolai in disgust. He missed the times that you would engage violence with him, oh how much he's missed the good old days. Ever since you've gotten closer to Fyodor and did some other stuff it changed your personality completely. He couldn't stand it, you were not his Dove, you were just an old doll ready to be thrown away.

"Oh Dove, what happened to you?..." He whispered under his breath.

The whole reason why you've changed is because Fyodor was always using you. You were the demons most useful pawn and he intended on taking advantage of that. The tasks would be too extreme and while Nikolai was gone there would always be constant arguing and abuse towards another. You would receive slap after slap, a kick from an underling, and poisoned to make your body stiff in suspended animation before getting locked up. In the beginning, Nikolai would care about how you were being treated but then he randomly didn't care. He soon realized you were weak.

You have been sick for some time and your mental health isn't the best due to family issues and your job as a terrorist. You just weren't loving how your life style has become and thought it was a good idea to turn your life around. You couldn't leave or else you would die, so you just did simple basic tasks instead. Back then you would always go on a murder spree with your lover. As you got sick, you realized there wasn't much things you could do anymore. You highly doubted that you were going to live for a long time, you were almost as weak as Fyodor but you tried to hide it.

Nikolai soon found out about your sickness and couldn't help but insult you of how weak you are now. You were hoping he would understand, but he could care less. You still put faith in Nikolai to understand your pain and condition, but it seemed you trusted him too much.

"Dove, your really pissing me off. You have been for a while." Nikolai said coldly, his eyes burning into yours. A small shiver ran down your spine but you quickly avoided his icy stare. "It's not my fault things turned out this way. Enough talking and let's get going, I have plans after this." "Oh, do you now?"

The Jester rolled eyes and puts the paper down. "Yes, now let's go." You make your way over to the door but as you turned the handle, the door wouldn't open.

Something was wrong.

"Oh Dove, if only you could've stayed the same."

Slit!!

You felt pain all of a sudden. Slowly looking down, only to see a shiny silver object with Crimson blood pouring out of your body like a fountain. You couldn't believe your eyes, you were stabbed. The knife twists and turns to make even a bigger mess, more blood was spilling out of you and you couldn't hold back your screams.

"I usually harm those who make me obsessed with them but I was going to make you an exception. Thinking, maybe we could live and be free together. Now I see you as a big joke, I loved you so, but being with you makes me feel even more trapped. I can't have that, your not worth losing my mind over anymore."

The knife was roughly pulled out before a big amount of blood was shot out of your mouth. You fell down on your own, the crimson puddle was spreading rather quickly as it was spilling out of your stomach and your mouth. You were at a loss of words, your vision blurs due to the lack of blood and the tears that were forming in your eyes. Your tried crawling to him with little effort while Nikolai stared down at you with a look full of guilt, but mostly no sympathy. He was conflicted, but his mind was already made up the moment he stabbed you, he couldn't go back. He pushed down the feeling of guilt and smiled at you.

"What did you expect? You should've left me when you had the chance! Don't cry now darling, you'll eventually pass away and won't have to worry or feel anything!"

He giggled to himself as he watches you slowly become lifeless. You didn't want to die here, not now. With little strength you had, you pulled out your that you keep on your belt and shot Nikolai in the stomach, aiming at his vitals.

Nikolai couldn't believe what just happened. He looked down to see four bullet wounds before falling down in front of you, he coughs up blood, all the while you felt like screaming and crying. You could cry, but you didn't have the energy to scream when you were on the verge of death and choking on blood. "I wanted to plan something special for us...I tried to change...I tried going back to the person that I once was....I tried....and I wanted to prove you that today, on our 2nd anniversary..." You choked out, the clown was shocked by your words, it was nothing that he was expecting. He thought the words that would come out of your mouth would be "Fuck you!" Or "I hate you!" but no. It was something that would made him regret his actions.

He laid there conflicted, he completely gave up on everything. He just wished he could've been better and understand what you were going through better instead of being full of himself. He wished he could've been a better lover. He looked at you with tears in his eyes and a small smile, his eyes half lidded as he was about to make his way into the afterlife with you. "I guess I messed up, silly me." He said with a small chuckle. You glared at him and said your last words before your vision blacks out.

"I trusted you."

[thisismysecondrodeo]

here’s a request if you have time: ted giving y/n a massage?

AN: @tedssweaters wrote a lovely little massage blurb that everyone should go read. I already had this request in my queue and of course, I went in a different (read: horny) direction lol s/o to @jarfishy for the encouragement to finish this one early 😛 two fics in one day, who am I?!

Rating: Explicit

Tags: AFAB!reader, One-Shot, Sports injury turned very sexy, Smut, Porn with barely any plot, facefucking, fingerfucking, General sexy things

Fic masterlist

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You had been obsessed with football since you were little, your older brothers happily taught you every trick they knew while they dribbled circles around you until you were old enough to start playing against girls your own age. You had long since hung up your football dreams, though, focusing on a career in PR instead. But since you started working for AFC Richmond—and dating the head coach—you couldn’t help but want to get back on the pitch again.

Over happy hour one night you told the team how much you missed playing and they all tried to get you into a drunken round of footie on the Richmond Green, absolutely gutted when they couldn’t procure a football and the coaches told them it was too dark and they were too not-sober. But after that, the boys would occasionally drop by your office on a light practice day to invite you out and you started keeping some extra athletic clothes and boots under your desk.

“You sure it's okay,” you asked Ted each time you went to step out on the pitch, trying not to linger. Though your relationship had started completely unrelated to your employment, neither of you wanted anyone to get the wrong impression. The only people that were aware you were together were Rebecca and HR…and Keeley after that one time she had come back for something in her old desk and caught the two of you….indisposed. You had to admit the sneaking around was a little sexy, but it was a bummer in times like this when you wanted to drop a kiss on his cheek after he said, “of course! Go show those boys what-for.”

You were getting into the rhythms of playing, your lungs burning with exertion and a grin cemented to your face as you darted around. You raised a hand to Dani with a call of, “oi!” and sprinted to the ball to set yourself up for a corner kick. It felt good to score, even though you knew the boys let you have that one—granted they’d been out there for hours and you were fresh from your desk, no one could blame them for being a little slow.

You were taking the ball down the field when Sam called for a pass and you looked up for him just as O’Brien went for a slide tackle and you went down hard, with a pained grunt. Ted was hovering over you in an instant, you didn’t even know how he’d moved that quickly, and you rolled off of O’Brien and onto your stomach with a laugh.

“Jeez, I’m so sorry, you alright Y/N,” O’Brien asked with genuine remorse as he sat up on his knees, Ted right next to him his brow furrowed in concern.

“It was fair play, I’m perfectly fine Tommy Boy. Don’t apologize for that,” You went to get up but Ted stopped you with a hand on your shoulder.

“Don’t move yet, we should get you checked out,” Ted said and you looked at him like he was crazy.

“Ted, I’m fine. I’m a human woman, not a paper doll,” you laughed and Ted chuckled with you. “Just help me up, why don’t you?”

Ted held out a hand and you let him take most of your weight as you clambered up, took a step, and…shit that hurt. Not the worst you’d felt, but your thigh was cripplingly tight. You must have pulled your hamstring when you went down. Ted saw you grimace and his voice was frantic when he asked, “Woah now, what hurts?”

“Mmmf,” you grunted, “s’okay, just pulled my hamstring.” You gestured to your left leg and Ted’s hands were on you, squeezing with a pleasure-pain that made you groan as you braced yourself on his shoulder, not realizing how inappropriate this might seem to the players still gathered around. Coach Beard loudly and pointedly cleared his throat but it was too late.

“Coach, why don’t you work my hamstrings out like that, huh,” Jamie called out, his tongue sticking out of his mouth. Roy shoulder-checked him but even he smirked. Ted blushed and removed his hands immediately. You needed to get him out of here before he started apologizing and making things worse.

“Where were you when I tore my butt,” O’Brien teased and all the players laughed at that. Ted opened his mouth to say something, but you quickly cut him off.

“Ha ha,” you stuck your tongue out at Jamie and O’Brien mockingly, “come on, Coach, help me to the treatment room?” You wrapped an arm around Ted’s shoulders, your hurt leg in between so you could use him as a crutch as you limped off the pitch. He wrapped a hand around your waist to support you, being sure to keep his hand higher than necessary.

As soon as the treatment door clicked shut behind you, Ted had you wrapped tightly in his arms as if he had found you on the pitch half-dead. Thank god the actual trainer was out for the afternoon otherwise there was no way the two of you could explain this one away as platonic concern. You chuckled a little but let him hold you, his hands gripping your t-shirt as he took deep, soothing breaths.

“Ted?”

He didn’t respond but you could feel his fingers release just a smidge.

“Teddy, I’m alright sweetheart,” you whispered with light amusement and Ted sighed and let you go.

“I know, I know you just…gave me a bit of a fright seein’ you take a tumble like that. And I’m embarrassed on top of that for not keepin’ my hands to myself and almost blowing our cover. I should have told the boys to take it easy—”

“Woah, now, none of that,” you chastised, hobbling over to sit on a treatment table. “I may not have ever been a professional athlete, but I was an athlete. I know what it’s like to be knocked down, I know the symptoms of a concussion. Hell, have I told you my front incisor is an implant? Mum was pissed after that game.” You chuckled and looked over at Ted who was wincing. “Ah, come on now darling. You see people get hurt all the time. Scrapes and bruises are little badges of hon—”

“Not you,” Ted said, his voice tight and his hands fisted in his pockets. “I don’t see you get hurt all the time. It’s not because you’re a woman or because you’re not a professional or because I don’t think you can handle yourself, I just…I love you. And I don’t want to see the person I love in pain.”

Ted had never told you he loved you before and your eyes shot to his face, searching for any indication that he didn’t mean it, that he regretted saying it. But all you saw was the vulnerability of him offering his heart on a platter. You reached a hand out towards him and he stepped closer, allowing you to tug one of his fists from the pocket of his khakis.

“I love you too, Ted Lasso,” you whispered, holding his gaze as you leaned in and he met you halfway. It was easy to forget where you were and why when he kissed you like that, but when you shifted to widen your legs so he could step between them, the tug in your thigh reminded you and you grunted into his mouth, which was not the sexy sound he’d been anticipating.

“As much as I’m loving this very sexy turn of events, do you think you could get me an ice pack?”

Ted jumped into action with a smile and you slid off the table to remove your shorts so they wouldn’t get in the way, before leaning over and locking the door. Ice pack in hand, Ted turned and you could see the way his eyes lingered, but he remained focused on attending to your injury.

“Here, why don’t you lay on your stomach and I’ll hold this for you.” You did as he asked, and jumped when the freezing cold sensation hit your skin. “Did you stretch before you got out there?”

You gave Ted a sheepish look from where your head rested on your folded arms and he clucked his tongue at you. “Well if it’s alright with you, it might be helpful to massage your other leg while this one is healing to prevent this in the future. If you’re gonna be a member of my team, ya gotta be proactive in taking care of yourself, ya know?”

You smiled and nodded as he wrapped your ice-pack thigh in a towel so it wouldn’t move and stepped to your other side, rubbing massage therapy oil between his palms before he touched you. “Does that mean you’re letting me back out on the pitch, Coach?” You didn’t mean it to be seductive, but the two of you had somehow slipped into a mild coach-player roleplay, and the moan that slipped from your lips when he pressed down deep into the muscles of your thigh didn’t help.

“As if I could tell you no,” Ted responded affectionately, using both hands to grip your thigh and rub small, deep circles down the length of the muscle. He moved down to your calf, massaging slowly and humming a tune. He switched legs, skipping your injured thigh and going straight to the calf muscle and it felt like heaven, his hands warm and firm against your skin, his long fingers wrapping briefly around your ankle. He let go and you whimpered at the loss.

“How’s your back, love?”

“If I say ‘just awful’ will you keep touching me?”

Ted laughed, a full-bellied laugh that always made you giddy when you could pull it from him. You sat up and he helped you remove your shirt and bra before you laid back down, your arms to your side, and as he walked past your head for more massage oil you couldn’t help but noticed his tented khakis. You had of course felt like this was a rather sexy scenario, but you hadn’t realized how much it was affecting Ted too. He hadn’t made any untoward comments or touched you in any way that someone with a Sports Physiology degree wouldn’t. Knowing that his care for you was NOT centered on sex, that he couldn’t be distracted from looking after you just because you were mostly nude, only made you want to fuck him more.

Ted ran his hands over your back, gently first and then with more pressure. You sighed deeply when he hit the spot between your shoulder blades that always ached from working at a computer all day. He leaned closer so he could focus in on that spot but when his erection brushed your arm he quickly tilted his hips back. You wanted to tell him it was okay but you didn’t want to embarrass him, so you settled for letting him know how much you were enjoying the experience and maybe some not-so-subtle hints.

When his thumbs worked into your lower back, you spread your legs slightly and thanked your lucky stars you had picked gray underwear today. You knew he could see how wet you were by the sharp intake of breath you heard behind you.

“Feel good,” he asked, his voice a little strained, and you smiled over your shoulder at him.

“Very. What would you say if I asked you to get my glutes…Coach?”

Ted took a deep breath that he released as a groan. “I’d say we’d need to get these off.” If you could fist pump in this position you would. You were dying for him to touch you. Not that he hadn’t been, but there were certainly more sensitive areas that could use his attention. Ted removed the towel and ice pack first, letting his long fingers trail along your inner thigh and you shuddered in anticipation. He hooked his fingers in your waistband, slid down your underwear, and then…actually massaged your glutes.

It still felt amazing, but you wanted him to sink those very capable fingers into your core, to massage your clit until you were begging for release.

“Hey, Coach?”

“Hm,” Ted hummed. You couldn’t see him from this angle but he wasn’t tilting his hips back anymore and you could feel him hard against the side of your thigh.

“This is making me very fucking horny.”

Ted laughed. “Is that right? Is that you droppin’ hints that you’d like my hands…a little lower?”

“Well if you’re offering,” you joked nonchalantly as if you weren’t prepared to beg. Ted did slide his hands down but he didn’t immediately sink his fingers into you. Instead, he treated your vulva with the same care he had treated the rest of your body, a gentle but purposeful massage that made it hard to tell whether the growing slickness between your thighs was oil, arousal, or a mix of both.

“Fuck,” you whined as Ted’s middle finger parted you and made contact with your clit, but he pulled away and you grunted in frustration.

“Turn over for me darlin’.”

Ted helped so you didn’t bother your injured leg and though you were more than excited for him to go back to touching you, the real reason you felt heat pooling in your belly was getting to look at his sweet face, concern almost fully replaced with desire, his dimple deepening when his eyes locked on yours.

“Well, hello there,” you said softly and he grinned. “Appreciate the helping hand.”

“Anytime,” Ted responded as he ran his oiled hands up your belly to your peaked nipples, massaging your breasts and leaning forward to capture your moans between his own lips. You tangled your tongue with his, relishing in the slip of his fingers as he pinched at both nipples. He stood up as he trailed one hand back to its previous location. Done teasing, he wasted no time sliding two fingers into you and you tried to keep your reaction in check but you couldn’t help but whine, “Jesus, fuck Ted you feel so fucking good.”

“Shh, I’m glad, baby,” Ted said quietly, obviously not wanting to draw attention to what was currently happening in the treatment room, “just relax and let me take care of you.” He tilted his fingers up to find the soft spot inside of you that made your soul leave your body as his thumb found your clit, his other hand still alternating between your breasts. You were whimpering and whining and Ted was steadily trying to shush you but you didn’t know how he expected you to stay quiet when he was so expertly taking you apart.

“I…I can’t, fuuck, I can’t stay quiet baby.”

“You have to darlin’, you have to be good for me.”

“Mmm,” you complained but then you caught sight of his erection yet again and you ran your hand over it, smiling when he couldn’t help but press into your palm. You tugged him closer to you by his pocket, using both hands to work his pants open and Ted chuckled, “you’re just not going to let me take care of you, are you?”

You freed Ted’s length from his boxers and smiled up at him, batting your eyelashes. “I just thought something in my mouth might help me keep quiet.”

“Christ,” Ted whispered emphatically as you stroked him a few times. Somehow in all of this fingers had never stopped their slow fucking so you knew he was up to the challenge.

“You’re going to have to fuck my mouth since I don’t have the range of motion I normally do, think you can multitask?”

Ted choked on his spit and coughed, sputtering as he answered, “You’re going to be the absolute death of me.”

But it certainly wasn’t a no, and he did as you asked when you slipped the tip of him between your lips, moving slowly to match the pace of his fingers. You moaned against him, adoring the feeling of him heavy in your mouth, letting your tongue circle the seam of him when he pulled back and relaxing your jaw when he pushed back in. He picked up the pace of both his hips and his fingers and you were so close, your whole body pulsing with desire, your injury forgotten. And then Ted slid in a third finger and you were a goner, the stretch and pressure so overwhelmingly good the only thing stopping you from screaming was his dick in your mouth.

Thankfully, when he felt you clench against his fingers he stopped moving his hips, otherwise you surely would have choked. Your chest was heaving as Ted moved to pull out of your mouth but you shook your head no, leaning over to take him in hand before you released him for a gasp of air, stroking him swiftly until you could take him again. When you were ready you sat up slightly so you had more control and used both your hand and tongue to work him over, his chin tucked to his chest and his hand covering his mouth.

“I’m gonna…baby, I’m about to…” He tried to pull back, but you shook your head again and sank down as far as you could and swallowed, feeling him come down the back of your throat. Now it was Ted’s turn to gasp for air as you sucked him clean and released him.

“Can’t believe this treatment room is still haunted,” Ted said as he tucked himself back in his khakis, “you’re a goddamn succubus.”

You laughed as he helped you back into your clothes. The two of you had been missing from training for so long, you just cleaned up the treatment room and left the stadium hoping no one was suspicious. Ted shot Beard a quick text that he was helping you get home and got just a thumbs up in return.

-

A couple weeks later now fully healed, Colin stopped by your office and invited you out to the pitch again. You grinned and pulled on your athletic wear, tying up your boots before stepping out next to Ted. The two of you had decided it was long time to stop sneaking around, so this time when you asked, “you sure it’s okay” and Ted told you to get out there, you thanked him with a kiss.

Both of you looked around at the team confused when no one reacted and Ted cleared his throat, “Guess I should let y’all know that, uh, Y/N and I…”

“We know, Coach,” Sam called out with a smile. “And we’re happy for you both.” The team took to the pitch but you and Ted still looked at each other confused until Isaac came over and murmured, “Training room connects to the locker room. And it's not soundproof, bruv.” You’d never seen the color drain from Ted’s face so quickly, but you just followed Isaac out onto the pitch with a smile. It had been worth it.

And despite now knowing about you and Ted—way too much about you and Ted, it seemed—the boys didn’t take it easy on you for one second. Just the way you liked it.

[homicidal-slvt]

Blue-Eyed Snake {Pt. 2}

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MDNI

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Part 1 | Part 3

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Phillip Graves x F!Reader

Civilian|Y/N

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Warnings: Fluff, Cheating Ex, Kinda Sexually Suggestive

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You're not exactly sure how you ended up here- with Phillip sitting in your kitchen drinking sweet iced tea while shirtless.

Sweat clung to his skin from him doing yard work in the summer heat, chest rising and falling with every breath.

"Like the view, doll?"

Your eyes snapped back up to his face after you realized you were lingering a little too long on his torso, of course the smug bastard noticed and was smirking at you.

"Yeah, yeah..."

You brushed it off and turned to pour yourself a glass of tea as well.

Those damned blue eyes of his never left your form, they were deceptively beautiful with a haunting gentleness to them when he gazed at you.

"Welcome to the neighborhood I guess."

You uttered which earned a chuckle from him.

"I guess you didn't exactly expect your one night stand to be your neighbor as well?"

He seemed way too happy about the current situation and it was getting on your nerves, yet you were the one who invited him inside to begin with... You were the one who couldn't help but take an interest in him.

He's not your type- you try to tell yourself over and over. Yet here you are with him in your home.

You could tell him to leave- but you don't want to.

"Yeah..."

Was all you could say while sipping on your glass of tea as well. Phillip couldn't deny he found you and your awkward tendencies quite cute, he could tell you weren't used to this sort of thing- it was written all over you.

"Y'know, I'm not gonna do anything ya ain't comfortable with."

The tone of his voice was almost- gentle. It wasn't his usual cockiness speaking then, your eyes landed on his face and he seemed... Genuine.

"Course' last time you didn't have any complaints."

And just like that the gentleness was gone- almost like he caught himself and stomped it out immediately. No attachments.

He winked at you before swiftly grabbing his cowboy hat, setting it atop his head and turning to leave.

"See ya around, doll."

With that he was out the door before you could answer back- you internally cringed. Left in his place instead was a piece of paper he jotted his phone number onto.

Why the hell did you find that yeehaw dipshit attractive?

••

You were sweeping the floor when there was a knock at your door.

"Who is it?"

You called out only to hear your cheating ex-boyfriends voice answer back, every muscle in your body tensed.

"Look- just give me a chance to explain. I'm sorry."

You chewed on your bottom lip as anger boiled in your heart, venom in your soul. His voice was grating on you in so many ways.

Then an idea dawned on you- Phillips phone number.

While your ex was calling out to you trying to gain your attention, you called up Phillip to ask for a favor. You hated bothering him but God you wanted to screw with your ex's head so bad.

Of course after learning the situation Phillip was actually straight up giddy about helping you out with it- after all your ex did deserve it.

"Be there in a minute. I'll come in the back door so he doesn't see me."

You were thankful for the fact your backyards were so close together right now, he easily made his way to your backdoor and came in. He smirked at you and then reached up ruffling his hair and undoing the top buttons of his shirt.

"Are you sure you're okay with this?"

You asked one last time and received a nod in return, he sauntered his way to the door and pulled it open- leaning against the door frame glaring at your ex.

"She's a little... Busy right now."

You were hid out of sight in the kitchen just listening- having to hold back laughter as your ex stumbled desperately over his words.

Phillip was good at this-

With zero hesitation he spied the flowers in your ex's hands and just casually snatched them.

"Thanks. She'll like these though. I'll tell her you dropped by."

Shit eating grin plastered to his face he then promptly slammed the door in your ex's face, you finally burst into a fit of laughter.

"Oh my god- that was amazing. Thank you."

That smile of yours- the sound of your laugh... Oh no.

Phillip felt his heart clench as he watched you, he swallowed and shook his head trying to will away those feelings. No place for them- no place for this in his life.

"Don't mention it."

-

{Am I sneaking in some soft Phillip? Yes. Yes I am.}

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{@sofasoap }

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{Similar fics by @sarahs-secrets2 }

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{More Content}

[bluecookies02]

Vash x Knives //nsfw//

summary: A package was delivered to Knives at 8:30 in the morning.

//or//

Nai breeding a custom made plush of his brother🧸

warnings: incest, plant genital anatomy, trans!Vash, angst with a hopeful ending, crying, solo masturbation, breeding, copious amounts of plant cum

A package was delivered to Knives at 8:30 in the morning.

He threatened each one of his servants, that if anyone opened it, they would all be dead before he even found out who exactly did it.

Top secret, a box wrapped in black tape with no information but his name and address on it. It certainly invoked curiosity, but no one would be dumb enough to take a peak.

There was a series of timed, secretly instructed knocks on his door and seconds later he was picking it up, locking the metal door behind him.

Despite waking up moments ago, he was wide awake now, taking the suspicious package to his bed.

He breathed through his nose as he turned the box around, looking for even a single scrape.

Good.

One of his blades emerged from his back, carefully slicing the layer of tape. Such sharp, brutal spears, tentative and gentle in their movements as they created a precise cut through the surface of the box.

He choked on his spit, swallowing it down in a painful gulp as he ripped apart the cardboard with his hands.

Cushioned by bubble wrap, there sat a custom-made creation of cotton and cloth.

It was a little bigger than his spread-out palm, and as he picked it up he gave it a gentle squeeze before swiping his finger across it.

"It looks just like you..." he sighed, admiring the plushie. He turned it around, inspecting the seams on the small red coat, and then the work on the beautiful metallic green on one of its arms.

He turned it over again, staring at the wide smile and the squinted eyes, blush on its cheeks spreading warmth in Nai's stomach.

He held the robotic-like hand in his palm, biting his lip at the remorse as the memory of him taking his own brother's precious limb flashed in the back of his mind.

"I would've taken my own instead if I could...you know that right?" he talked to the doll, fully aware that it wouldn't respond. He clicked his tongue, petting a stripe across the naked belly.

Grabbing the box again, he looked for a carefully stashed pair of peach-tinted glasses, dwarfed to fit the doll. He placed them over its eyes, tying the dandy roped at the end of them behind its head.

There was a set of additional clothes packed as well, boots and a onesie-like version of his brother's outfit.

He discarded the box at the edge of the bed, leaving the doll for a brief moment as he rummaged through his drawer.

"Ah! There!" he picked up a small jewelry box, hidden under a pile of paper and junk. He took the golden earring out of the box, returning to the bed.

He saw the tiny hole in the doll's earlobe and he carefully threaded the small needle through it, clicking the mechanism in place.

"So perfect baby..." he mumbled, adjusting so that he was now leaning against the pillows, a blush spreading across his face.

His nimble fingers finally dared to inch towards what he was looking forward to the most, but quickly returned to just slip under the red jacket, massaging the hip with his thumb.

He used his free hand to adjust his sweats, undoing the knot to ease the tight fit of his slowly bulging cock.

"Miss you so much..." Nai whispered out softly, pressing the plushie against his face, imagining the smell of his brother that threatens to be forgotten as each day passes. He inhales, focusing hard.

He saw him a few years ago...Where?

He envisions the city, the exact street they crossed paths, and finally the moment he brushed against Vash's shoulder, not even realizing it until a second too late. He missed him by a thread.

The unpleasant heartbreaking memory is dismissed as he focuses on the smell of his cologne that haunted Nai for months after. Each time it's harder to recall it and Nai feels ugly emotions clawing at his heart.

He blinks the cloudiness out of his eyes and he looks at the doll again, pressing a soft kiss to its lips.

"I'll wait for you." deciding to stop dwelling on it, he is pushed with a wave of determination to enjoy his own belated birthday present.

His lips travel lower, between the doll's chest and he closes his eyes, imagining the bumps and blemishes under his tongue. He wonders if he suffered new scars while Nai wasn't there to protect him.

He continues to work his tongue, ignoring the not-so-pleasant taste of cotton. His hands and toes twitch with each lick, his throat going dry as he just lets his mouth stay open against it, never swallowing.

The faint glistening of the now wet threads makes this feel even filthier, and Nai groans, moving the doll away from his lips.

Impatient now, he raises the doll a little, finally getting a peak of that beautiful tight pocket, a shade lighter and dusted pink compared to the rest of it.

He growls, slipping his middle finger in experimentally.

Warmth engulfs it, and as he gives a light squeeze with his other hand, he feels the textured insides rub all the way around his digit.

"Vash-" his voice rasps and he clears his throat, adding a second finger inside, stretching them apart to see if he could even fit.

"I'm not gonna hurt you..." he promises, removing his fingers before he brings the hole to his lips.

His tongue darts out, swiping across the imaginary clit and then over the folds. God...

He spits over the toy's pussy, a thick glob rolling from the edges and seeping into the hole. He chases the drool with his finger, spreading it around the insides before the fabric soaks everything up.

He dives his tongue in again, this time a little further inside, swirling it around until he has a mouthful of plush between his teeth, the wet muscle prodding as deep as it can reach.

Wiggling out of his sweatpants, he whines pathetically as his cock twitches against his underwear. It's dribbling fat drops of pre, jerking and aching as he stuffs his face, insatiable for the taste of his brother on his tongue.

He delves two fingers along his tongue, all to the last knuckle as he slurs around them, praising and begging and crying all the same.

The tip of his cock pokes out of the waistband, wiggled out of his briefs from the desperate uncontrolled movements of his hips.

The glands on his length leak copious amounts of slick, the soft but pointy ridges are fully inflated and Nai feels like he's seconds away from cumming.

He takes a moment to fully shimmies out of his underwear, not caring to fully kick them off his feet.

Vash's hole is now completely drenched, dripping and gooey and each time he squeezes the doll too hard, a tiny amount of spit surfaces from the deep layers of cotton.

"Baby, please..." he sobs now, lips closing as he squeezes at the toy with both of his hands, lapping at it.

"You taste so good-ghah...shit" his eyes roll to the back of his head and his back arches.

"Nooo, God please not ye-" a string of blades rushes to his cock, the butterfly-like metal folding in on itself before it wraps around the base of his cock, squeezing mercilessly.

Nai takes a deep breath, stuttering on the exhale. The cool metal eased the jerking of his weeping cock, and the tight grip successfully interrupted his fastly approaching orgasm. He juts the doll against his nose again, trying to calm himself down. He experimentally loosens the grip on his cock but his heavy balls tighten again and he can will blood ruching through his stomach, down to the very root of his dick.

He grips himself again, against his carnal needs he moves the toy away from his face. Adjusting so that he's now laying fully on his back, Knives stares at his tall ceiling, reminiscing.

His lover is so cruel to leave him aching like this...so so selfish. He doesn't even care that they're not on the same side anymore. His lips quiver, remembering the warmth of his brother's mouth on his. Now that one happened decades ago, and it was the most sour, soul-crushing moment of his life.

He got to enjoy everything he ever craved, flying high into the heavens only to come crashing down, freefalling with no one to catch him.

Vash had been drinking, clearly...not even bothering to knock at his old base's door. He let himself in, making his way to Nai's office and instead of angry fighting and begging, Vash only had the strength to cry. He cried and cried until his throat burned, and Nai was there, holding his violently shaking body in his strong arms, whispering sweet nothings into his ear. His brother only nodded to everything he was saying, accepting the comfort blindly as his heart screamed to be held gently.

Nai sat them on his couch, with him in his lap, buried in the warmth of his chest.

"It hurts so much Nai...make it stop please!" and his brother's pain was his.

He forgot for a moment, just for that night about their situation, kissing his brother softly until he couldn't think. That's what Vash needed...to not think.

Vash was pliant, letting Nai kiss him throughout the night. Hours...It continued on for hours and Nai poured the same amount of emotion into every peck and kiss and whisper. He hoped that he could pour a century's worth of love out in that single night.

One wrong touch. It took one miscalculated step...a slow sneaking hand under his shirt snapped Vash out of it. He got up and ran before Nai could even try to hold him back. And with that, Vash would avoid him to this day.

Nai's fingers replace his blades, holding his cock up straight as he aligns himself with the plushies slick hole. He vibrates, the tip barely touching and rubbing against the slit.

"I know you love me too..."

He slowly sinks the toy further down, so that it swallows the mushroomy tip of his dick. He keeps it there, as if letting Vash adjust to his size, grinding himself patiently.

"Yeah? Feels good?" he's a gone man.

"I know, whenever you're ready baby..."

"Mhm...me neither, there wasn't anyone else for me-"

"It's fitting in perfectly, yeah?"

The bottom of the doll bumps his navel, finally stretched to take him in. There's a clear budge all the way up to its neck, and Nai strokes the prominent bump through thick layers of stuffing.

He squints his eyes shut, refusing to peak into the reality. His head is thrown back against the pillow and he starts pumping, tremendously slow.

"Please Vash, my love?" and the voice in his head responds, screaming a 'yes' in ecstasy. The petals of his brother's cunt spread open, presenting his engorged, beautiful clit.

His hand speeds up slightly, the other coming to join.

He takes his brother's soppy, slippery nub between his middle and pointer finger, stroking it in time with his deep thrusts. Nai moans, unrestricted, his lips staying parted as he pants.

"I'm gonna take care of you baby. Just relax for me, you're still so tight!" he grits his teeth, almost catching his tongue as the base of his length starts bulging.

"Ah~ Shit. Fuck, I'm gonna breed that gorgeous pussy of yours"

He's leaking gooey aphrodisiacs out of his cock, the hairs on his taint and seam sticky and soaked.

Knives feels the flowering of his cock head, the now funnel-like top kissing and suckling at Vash's cervix. It secures itself, the suction causing Vash to mewl atop of him.

Nai hurries to flick his thumb over his soulmate's throbbing clit, slamming the doll fast and hard against him now. His hips buck off the bed and he bends his legs at his knees.

"I don't know how long I can do this for..." The meaning is ambiguous, because Nai has tears streaming down his cheeks and his moans have turned into seething weeps. He's also incredibly close, his fingers and elbow cramping as he fucks the toy.

"Vash...have mercy...please" he sings it like a gospel, and he prays. To no one other than his brother, he prays and pleads and offers his being selflessly.

Finally, in his head, Vash's leaf and petal like folds stick to him, two large ones curling and squeezing his full sack. The rest secure themselves with tiny, microscopic hooks, swallowing everything between Nai's shaking legs.

"Come home to me Vash..." it's his last cry before he's cumming, his body alights and he glows, spurt after spurt surging to fill his mate. His stomach cramps and his toes curl. He doesn't breathe as the waves crash against his skin, sending goosebumps down his spine.

One of his hands runs to press against his heart, desperately pushing against his chest as it pounds against his ribs. His nerves spark inside him, cutting him open like little blades of light, leaving him empty and his muscles hollow.

He drops back onto the bed, and he lets go of the doll, slamming his palm against his mouth as he screams louder than ever before, the last spasm of his dick releasing the final drop of cum he had to offer.

He wants to whisper something again but he makes the mistake of opening his eyes. Reality hits him and the words are stuck in his throat as he adjusts to the light again.

He looks down between his legs and he catches the doll as it almost falls off of his slowly softening dick, cum oozes out and sprays against his thighs.

No strength to get up, he just curls on his side.

He's not sure how many moments have passed, or if he's fallen asleep or not, but the tablet on the other end of his room lights up, shining on top of his piano.

Nai feels something deep in his gut and he runs.

If you liked this and wish to support me here is the limk for my Ko-Fi , anything is greatly appreciated 🥰

my commissions are currently open aswell!💕

[caps1gal]

Here's some Stucky to pair with Hands Of Gold by Peter Hollens

Steve Rogers x Bucky Barnes Mild Body dysmorphia and panic attacks

The wintery air kicked up in a sudden gust causing snow to billow around them. Turning with an affectionate smile Steve asked, “How bout something to warm us up?” nodding to the coffee shop glittering with festive lights.

Reaching behind himself he took Bucky’s cold metal hand in his. He pulled enthusiastically towards the shop even as a little gasp escaped those perfect lips.

Bucky withdrew his hand, “Grabbed the wrong one, Doll?” he tried to tease.

Steve turned to meet his gaze, his own softened. Retaking the hand in his he placed light kisses on each of the knuckles, “Every bit of you is perfect, Sweetheart,” before cupping it to his cheek.

Pulling his hand away with more force than he intended causing Steve to lurch forward.

“I thought you wanted something warm to drink?” he mumbled ushering his boyfriend into the warm shop, pointedly ignoring the wounded look on Steve’s face, “C’mon Punk.”

Bucky had pretended the silence that spun out between them didn’t bother him. The whole walk home Steve only sipped his coffee. Both hands were wrapped around the paper cup. It was actually kind of cute his too big hands holding the cup like a child afraid of spilling. Bucky sipped his own coffee, the shopping bags between them in his other hand.

Inside their Brownstone they shook the snow off their coats, the silence still heavy and Bucky refused to be the one to break it. Observing the furrowed blond brows, he knew Steve was set on being stubborn. Instead, he carried the grocery bags into the kitchen.

Steve put away the cold stuff surveying the fridge before giving a sharp nod, “You okay with leftovers?”

Blinking because he had expected the silent treatment to draw out for much longer. Finally, he just gave a shrug, “Fine by me.”

“Well, there’s plenty in there to heat up. I’ll be in my studio,” the blonde said absently. His lips had been pressed into a tight line; blue eyes stormy as he disappeared into the small room. The record player started up moments later.

With an exasperated sigh Bucky put away the remaining groceries cabinet doors closing harder than was absolutely necessary. Instead of eating he changed and made his way down to the gym they had set up.  He turned on the screen over a treadmill that showed nature scenes as he began to jog. Setting a fast uphill pace he allowed himself to drift.

Even after Bucky had showered and gotten himself ready for bed, Steve still hadn’t emerged from his art space.

“Dammit,” he muttered absently rubbing at his forehead.

Neither of them was really fond of the cold, for different reasons. Bucky remembered Steve getting pneumonia when the apartment could not be properly heated. Bucky’s arm lacking warmth was something he had made peace with, but it wasn’t fair to Steve. Sweet as he was, he would soldier through the most uncomfortable things just to appease others.  He was always so perfect, and kind compared to Bucky and….

He realized he was spiraling nearly helpless to stop its downward pull, but he wasn’t alone. He could call out and his boyfriend would come tether him once more. If he didn’t call out that would be even worse for Steve.

“Steve?” it came out loud and panicky. Footfalls rushing to his side he blurted out, “Doll, I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”

“Buck? Oh Sweetheart.” Warm hands cupped his face as the mattress dipped, “It’s alright Baby.”

Steve pulled him close murmuring soothing words into his ear as he ran his fingers through the short hair.

He had cut it in an attempt to look more like Steve’s Bucky. Desperately he wanted to be the man Steve remembered, “I can’t…” he pressed his face into the corded neck breathing in that calming scent.

“Shhh, it’s okay Sweetheart. You don’t have to do anything you’re not ready to.”

A deep breath shuddered in and out of him, “I can’t be warm for you. I’ll never be the man you remember.”

A few beats passed and he knew Steve was thinking. He could almost hear those wheels turning in that beautifully strategic mind.

“Idiot,” Steve cursed under his breath. Bucky knew by the tone Steve was talking to himself.

Pulling away to look Bucky in the eye, willing him to see the truth of the words with every fiber of his being, “I love you all of you. I’m just terrible at making you see that. Hell, you got yourself one dumb fella.”

Smiling a little at the guilty look in Steve’s eyes Bucky pressed a quick peck to his lips.

“Nah. He’s the cat’s meow downright ginchy and always has been,” he countered.

The dusting of pink that feathered across the blonde’s cheek had Bucky’s heart practically stopping in his chest. It made sense to him that Steve was an artist because he was a work of art himself and nothing would sway James Buchanan Barnes opinion on that.

Leaning in Steve pressed their lips together in a firm but chaste kiss. The heat of it a brand, a promise, “Can I show you something?” easing off the bed he offered his hand. A brilliant smile stole across his face as cool metal fingers intwined with his.

In the cramped studio Billie Holiday crooned softly while Steve placed his sketch book into Bucky’s hands. In it were drawings of him, his arm patterned with beautifully delicate designs of gold, silver blues, and reds. Each one had a gold or silver band painted onto the ring finger.

“You’re gorgeous to me,” he admitted quietly, “The same way I was to you when I was nothing but ninety-three pounds of asthma and ailments. You’re my Sweetheart and every part of you is beautiful to me because it’s all you.”

Bucky looked into the bright blue eyes allowing himself to be swallowed by the wave of unfailing love in them. Carefully he set the book down while pulling the love of his life into a firm embrace, “You’ve always been perfect to me, Stevie.”

Swallowing nervously, “I love you; Bucky and I promise to always be with you till the end of the line. I wanted to ask you proper before I showed you those, but I guess you know where my heads at now.”

Kissing away the nervous clench of Steve’s jaw, he whispered, “I’ve always been yours, Doll. And what was done to me means I’ve lived to see a world where we don’t have to hide it.”

Swaying a little to the music forehead pressed to the love of his life, “We’re right where we were always meant to be.”

[lunarscaled]

"I've received these two fragrances as a gift from Epel and Ortho. Won't you give it a try?" He's not even waiting for Lyric to respond much less offer their hand. He's taking Lyric's wrist, turning it over to put a spritz of one of the bottles on the lowest part of their palm. "Don't rub it. I don't know where people got the idea of rubbing a fragrance but it ruins the wear." He looks so pleased with the gifts those two got him - surely, you won't try to tell him those two boys made a poor choice? / hi lyric has been on the brain

-> When the Film Research Club had requested a consultation from the Scientific Research Club of suitable plants for their scene setting, Lyric had thought they would be able to slip under the radar by volunteering to move heavy pots from one room to another instead of having to do the talking; it didn't exactly make them feel thrilled at other students rifling through their cabinet of meticulously organized plant data and cultivation notes, but it was in the better interest of both clubs to streamline the decision making process that way. So, Lyric heaves a massive stone pot and palm tree by themselves in both arms down a long hallway to the storage room of the Film Club, nearly waddling the whole time under the weight, the thick muscle of their arms straining taunt the sleeves of their uniform. They are careful to set the pot down tilted first and then slowly shuffling it to lay flat and upright, as to not risk cracking the ceramic at the last moment; Lyric checks none of the palm fronds were bent or broken in the surrounding space, knowing the Film Club likely wouldn't accept irregular looking selections, and when they are satisfied they leave the door open behind them for other students ( it seemed the storage would be a temporary greenhouse-like space for the plants to be brought out of. ) They take their time walking back up the hall, giving slight bows of their head to other passing students and Science Club members, nearly each one bearing a potted plant or tray of sprouts as they sprinted down the hall. Outside of their own club room, a number of Pomfiore students crowd the door in rich royal purple and immaculate skin ( their stares barely even glance over them. they feel the sting on the back of their neck like they've done something offensive. existing, perhaps. ) Just inside the overflowing club room, they are caught by the arm from an upperclassman in red. Oh, Lyric, will you go inspect the stage space? We really need eyes on it for this.

"...Right. Leave it to me."

-> Night Raven has many overlapping, winding halls. Merely saying "the stage space" is not specific enough for them, but they doubt that member knew any more about where to go than they do, so they decide to head to the Film Club's room directly---a currently repurposed rehearsal studio. It made sense, for the nature of the club. In the middle of those nearly empty polished hardwoods ( were the rest of the members rehearsing on the set? was Vil handling the behind the scenes work this time? ) with papers and bottles in hand is none other than Vil Schoenheit; Queen of the campus, his stare could put any student in line without another thought, Lyric included. Their footsteps feel too loud when they walk and that consciousness only makes them move stiffly rather than lightly. Even at a distance they can see how his long pale lashes seem unreal against the vibrant color of his eyes, the living color in his cheeks. Vil was beautiful in a viscerally living way: he did not appear fragile or cold like a doll, but instead so beautiful and real he could make other people want to live to become closer to it. ( they walked closer without saying anything polite first, they realize. but even so, when he turns and notices them they see a fleeting assurance of what might have been a smile. ) Their muscles feel so tight their shoulders ache.

"Housewarden Schoenheit---"

-> I've received these two fragrances as a gift from Epel and Ortho. Won't you give it a try? The confidence of his voice easily overwhelms their tepid greeting of him, so strong they think they're caught in a riptide of that charisma before they can catch their balance. He is quick to take one of their limp hands at the wrist, turns it over to face him and sprays them with... something. They don't know what it is. Just as quickly he lets it go again, and the fingers of Lyric's opposing hand flex open and closed in a fidget to avoid wiping away the wet, though they know if they were patient it would dry on its own. If Vil said they shouldn't rub it, they won't ( if for no reason than that they had a small but profound experience in dealing with Vil's explicit self care instruction. )

"...what is it? "A fragrance?" Like... enchanted water or something?"

-> It might be a bad moment to let Vil in on the fact that Lyric did not know what a perfume was, and had never used any previously.

-> They stare at their own wrist, and then up at his satisfied, proud face. Epel and Ortho... the names were ones they had only heard in passing. Try as they might, there was no clear picture that came to their head. ( they lean forward a bit and sniff. the smell was soft and fresh, reminded them of a bright pastel pink or vibrant yellow, but they couldn't place it. reptiles had better eyesight than olfactory senses, but it didn't mean their nose was encyclopedic about things it has never seen before. ) Lyric's feet fidget in place, nervous when lined up with his pupils as he gauges their reaction. Would he not give them directions to the set if they didn't answer correctly?

"...It smells nice. A little sweet. What is it? I've never smelled something like that before."

[jaggedwolf]

pll rewatch 2x12

It’s 2A finale time, weddings and shovels and dolls oh my!

This is our first episode that starts with a flash-forward, which works here because it gets us the DUN DUN DUN Wilden’s back reveal

True to life the police suck because a guy snooping around teenager girls’ shit without warrant gets put back in charge of the investigation

Spencer wishes she could forbid Emily’s phone from ringing, but it’s just Maya

Hanna hangs out with Emily and Maya and this is really cute, actually, Maya is game to answer Hanna’s questions about the camp (which turns out to be super Christian ugh) while giving fashion opinions

The show would be more fun with some Liar/SO + other liar interactions. I wonder if we ever get a scene with Spencer, Toby, and Emily. 

But Emily would like to be alone with Maya. Tsk tsk, didn’t you tell Ashley a few weeks ago that you wouldn’t have any girlfriends upstairs?

Emily is saved from this rulebreaking by Maya wanting to take things slow and get to know this new Emily

Toby wants to take things fast because he’s asking Spencer what a baby they made would like like. My dude, slow down, you are still living with Jenna.

One of Hanna’s phone contacts is just “swimmer”. Did one of the swimmer boys hit on her and she save his contact as that?

Hanna has not been updating Caleb with all of her daddy troubles while he’s been away in California. She’s not gonna harsh the vibe of a guy’s reunion with his mom.

Gigantic Box Delivery for the Hastings’ house! 

Good call, A, it’s not like Spencer’s parents are home to notice that shit

Spencer is so fluent in French that a quick glance at the papers tells her that Jackie plagiarized via translation

She also realizes A cut Toby’s brake line and that shuts her down for a solid minute while the other liars discuss the dolls

My friends are very distracted through that conversation by Aria’s gigantic earrings constantly moving and pulling her earlobes

Let’s take a second to go over the exact message each girl gets

Spencer: KEEP TOBY SAFE

Hanna: STOP THE WEDDING

Aria: MAKE JACKIE GO AWAY

Emily: I’M TAKING YOU TO HER. COME ALONE. 

All of these are base urges of the four girls, or as Aria puts it, A being the “perfect frenemy”. 

They get different degrees of hand-holding through enactment. Emily’s car is hacked and her doll delivered when she’s alone. She does not think to text her friends. Aria is handed the evidence of Jackie’s academic dishonesty. Neither girl was planning to pursue these goals.

Hanna has tried to stop the wedding already, in deleting Isabel’s text and encouraging her mom to pursue her dad again. Those attempts failed. Hanna and A know she has the perfect ammunition for a successful one, so the path here is straightforward though less constrained than Emily’s or Aria’s.

But Spencer’s...There’s a lot of latitude in “keep Toby safe”, yet Spencer jumps to A’s desired conclusion. Perhaps it’s her desired conclusion too. A baser urge within a base urge. Spencer sees herself as doomed — it’s unclear to me when that began — and she is so damn ready to fall on the sword, to cast aside a consistent source of happiness instead of outhinking her way to retaining it.

I wonder why A picks this wound of Spencer’s...were they worried Toby is the love interest closest to being told about A, given his assistance in Spencer’s investigations? Regardless, much like making Emily a cheater, making Spencer responsible for her own loneliness is excellent tormenting strats.

Aria experiences zero vindication in blackmailing Jackie. Does not have that dog in her when menacing

God, Tom was MIA for two years? Truly, what a dick

“You’ll realize I’m not the person you think I am”, says Spencer to Toby, confessing to acts well within the realm of the Spencer that Toby knows. I mean Spencer obviously tried to come up with some kind of line for breaking up with him, but she does seem sincere when she says that

Ella apologizes to Aria for asking her to lie to Byron...she hadn’t done that yet? Man I really remembered Ella as a better mom. I wonder if Ella even makes the connection that Byron asked Aria to lie for him once and it put Aria in a very bad spot

Spencer glaring a hole through the interrogation room two-way mirror....have I mentioned that I love her?

“I really don’t let anyone see me cry” Spencer...Wren is gross here as always but I love Spencer trying to play off her crying by talking about hanky etiquette

Caleb learned the phrase “back fat” yesterday and immediately uses it to pwn Kate. For this I will forgive his fashion offense of a black suit over a black shirt. 

His mom probably bought him that suit though, that’s cute. 

Emily’s turn to interact with some version of Ali as her present self. Unlike Hanna’s two experiences, Emily is very out of it, and simply listens

“You were always my favorite. You loved me the most.” ....Very Alison for that to be why Em is her favorite. Also this Ali implies she knows who A is and declines to share

Shay plays Emily’s awakening from that vision very well

The liars are so desperate digging. They really do think they doomed the one adult they trusted with the secret of A!

Is it just me, or is it super weird of Ella’s response to her suspicion of Spencer/Ezra to be discussing it with Aria and Ezra? Isn’t she some kind of mandatory reporter? Wouldn’t you at least talk to Spencer first?

Also, it’s Spencer, it would not be OOC for her to climb into an ex-teacher’s car and I dunno, yell at him about a bad grade he gave her or something

Oh, Garrett/Jenna wrote the Jason note! And they have page 5 of the autopsy report, which contains an analysis of the trace evidence on the body.

Veronica is most respectable as mom when she’s being a lawyer for the girls. Peter specifically says Veronica is not a criminal lawyer here

Sullivan is A-OK, guiltily receiving an envelope from A, who the diner waitress calls “pretty eyes”. BRB, building a demographic model of who diner waitresses are most likely to call "pretty eyes".

[sinfulseashell]

Meet Your Yandere Pt.3 (TR)

A/N: Part 3 of 6. Enjoy 💖

Warning Contains: Yandere theme, Manipulative, Obsessive, Possessive, mentions of disappearance/death.

Shuji Hanma: Manipulative/Obssessive (5)

Being in college meant that you were in the awkward part of life where you were not a full adult yet, but you were adult enough to make your own choices, pay for your own things and have a stable job, as well as work on your love & social life. Unfortunately for you that was not the case, yes you had a boyfriend, and yes he treated you well but being a full time student as well as a tutor meant that the two of you were not able to hang out or have as much personal time as you would have liked. Tutoring paid well, but there were times where you wished that these people would just like to learn something instead of just wanting you to handle their work for them. After another day of classes you were heading to your tutoring job where you would always have your set up in the library from 3pm to 7pm, and of course today of all days you had to be late because the boyfriend you loved oh so much just had to throw one of his “fits of attention”. Rushing into the library you had already seen someone at your tutoring table gasping for air as you slammed your books down “I’m…im so sorry.” You choked out and took a seat fixing your shirt and hair.

“I…I hope you weren’t waiting for too long?” You sighed finally looking up and seeing a familiar face freezing as his golden eyes met with yours. “Is something wrong, doll?” His soft husky voice chuckled as he watched your shocked expression fix itself. “Oh…um…I'm fine. Please don’t call me, doll. Thanks.” You stumbled over your words, you heard the rumors of Shuji Hanma hearing the girls whisper how handsome he was while the boys whispered about how ruthless and intimidating he was. “You just never know what side you will get with him. So you better watch out.” You heeded the warning and kept your distance, but how were you supposed to do this with him here…sitting right in front of you? As you tried to help him with his Calculus homework you couldn’t help but feel flustered by him, literally any action he did whether it was looking at you or him lightly grazing your hand…all if it sent an excited shiver down your spine. The feeling kept catching you off guard and it happened so much that you didn’t even realize that his hour was up.

“Well doll, I have to go but thank you for helping me.” He smirked as he put his things away and turned to face you again. “I know this isn’t my place to ask, but…you seem to be tense? Or more like overwhelmed. I’m guessing your boyfriend isn’t helping by being a brat…am I right?” He chuckled seeing your once flushed expression now turn into shock. “Excuse me?” You questioned with a hint of irritation in your voice. “Oh? Seems like I hit a nerve. So I was right, your sweet little boyfriend is just being a big ass baby right now because you don’t give him enough attention.” He scoffed and stood up. “You don’t deserve that, princess. You need someone who understands that you want to be independent and pay for your own things, as well as someone who will help take care of you too.” He leaned closer to you now whispering in the shell of your ear as he continued.

“He doesn’t deserve you after everything you do for him? Everything you sacrificed so he could go out and party with the whores around campus?” He pulled away and cupped your chin for you to look up at him. “You don’t deserve that, sweetheart. You should dump him and upgrade.” He smirked while giving you a wink before standing up and heading out of the library leaving you stunned by his words. As you watched him leave something crumbled in your hand slowly opening the piece of paper seeing numbers and his name scribbled on it. Your eyes widened and quickly hid the paper in your backpack seeing the next student coming in, your face was flushed from the words that he spoke but you couldn’t deny that they were true. All the feelings you bottled up finally came to light causing you to get up and run out of the library finally seeing him in the courtyard.

“Shuji!” You called out, causing the tall male to look back with a smirk. “Yes?” He chuckled. “You…you’re right! Everything! I do deserve better.” You sighed, finally catching your breath Hanma smiled and nodded. “I’m glad you see things my way, pretty girl and when you dump him…call me.” He winked seeing you nod in agreement, oh how naive you truly were being easily manipulated into taking one step closer to finally being in his arms. Not because your current boyfriend was trash…no this is just for the simple fact that you looked better in his arms than anyone else’s, and in the end no matter what you decide. Shuji Hanma is always prepared to play the long game of lion and lamb.

Ran Haitani: Obssessive/Possessive (6)

Ran Haitani was a well known womanizer, always using women to his benefit and discarding them when he was done, but the moment he laid eyes on you…well that turned his ideals around. No woman could ever compare to your beauty, as a matter of fact…Nothing could compare to you, no man would ever be good enough for you in his eyes. You deserved nothing but the best, anything less someone would surely have to answer to him. Soon he only seeing once a day around campus turned into a need to see you all the time, changing his schedule to make sure that he could at least have a glimpse of you around him. This was so new to him, he craved to see you, craved for you to see him wanting your attention more than anything or anyone could ever give him, a man obsessed is what he became and soon he would have you.

You honestly didn’t know where Ran came from. He just simply appeared in your group of friends one day as a friend of another, but you couldn’t say that he didn’t catch your eye. In reality…he was hard to miss in a crowd. Not an ounce of him wasn’t original from his blonde and black hair in braids to his tall physique, and lastly his lavender eyes. There were times you would stare at him in awe not even realizing that you would stare for too long until he would make eye contact with you, which of course caused you to immediately look away.

Ran would act as if he didn’t notice your small stares but truth was…it drove him mad that he couldn’t just have you right here for everyone to see how he would claim you as his. What he also noticed was how one of the guys in the group would do anything to either sit near you or talk to you, now that ... .made his blood run hot through his veins. You belonged to him couldn’t you see that? Trying to ignore the temptation to just go over to the guy and punch his face until it was unrecognizable, he instead took his leave early telling everyone goodbye…especially you making it known to the guy who showed interest to back off. His icy glare to the guy didn’t go unnoticed by you of course thinking that maybe you should confront him later about it. After your hangout time ended with your friends the thought of Ran’s icy glare came back to mind, asking his friend where he might have gone.

You searched for him suddenly seeing him alone behind the campus staring up at the sky. “Ran…” your soft voice sounded like heaven to him soaking in your presence he slowly turned his head, sleepy eyes looked at you with such softness you could easily melt for him right then and there. “Well hello, pretty girl.” He cooed as he gently pushed himself off the wall to stand before you. “What brings you here? Couldn’t stop thinking of me?” He chuckled as he bit his lip. “What? I-I don’t think about you..,” your flushed cheeks said otherwise, but this wasn’t what you came here to talk about.

“I…I wanted to ask you why you looked at Anthony that way earlier. Do you not like him?” You asked softly, and with no hesitation Ran gave you his answer. “No.” You stood there in utter shock for a brief moment, but before you could even ask why your back was against the wall with him towering over you. “I don’t like people who try to take my things. Especially my pretty girl.” His voice was profound, causing you to freeze underneath his stern gaze. “I…I don’t…I don’t understand…” you finally were able to force your voice to speak, but barely above a whisper suddenly he laughed and shook his head. “Oh my sweet girl. You see…I want you all to myself, and that disgusting, undeserving, low rated bastard.” He hissed.

“-doesn’t deserve your attention. I do. I can give you anything and everything you want. Let me be the one to take care of you, love you, adore you…you can have all of this, but only if you let me claim you as mine.” He hummed softly as his nimble fingers traced your jawline curving upwards so his thumb could trace your bottom lip. “What do you say, princess? Be mine, and I’ll make sure the world is yours..” with his charismatic voice that seemed to have taken a hold of you, you nodded and spoke before your clouded mind could even comprehend what was truly happening. A devilish smirk played across his lips. “That’s my good girl.” He cooed, leaning down to gently press his lips to yours from that day it was sealed, you belonged to Ran Haitani, and as for Anthony…no one has seen him since.

Taglist: @brownsugarmoonie, @sano-obsessed, @rxmera, @blkladyelle, @islascafe, @rome-alone, @bontens-cum-slut, @miyuaditt @reiners-milkbiddies

[turtle-steverogers]

A look into the new Steve Rogers exhibit at the National Gallery in Washington DC.

my little crack at a pride fic

Read on ao3...

Here

Or keep reading below

                                     An Exercise in Vulnerability

                                A look into Steve Rogers’ mind in three parts

By Xavier Kelsy

June 4, 2016

When Steve Rogers came out as bisexual in June of last year, just a few days before gay marriage was legalized across the nation, it seemed that the country had split in two. Of course, this wasn’t a surprise seeing as so much controversy surrounding the LGBTQ+ community still runs rampant in this country. It felt like watching two parties play chess as Rogers expertly and gracefully navigated the bitter vitriol aimed his way. As I watched him turn his nose up to bigots through the screen of my phone, I distinctly felt that I was seeing the strategist I'd read about in all my history textbooks, taking on a world beyond the mask he wore on the battlefield. This was a personal war, where he was gaining the upper hand simply on the basis of staying true to himself. It was heartening. Inspiring. A saving grace to many in the nation who craved representation in its rawest form. 

Nearly a year later, when I had heard that Rogers was holding an exhibition regarding his queerness in the National Gallery of Art in Washington DC, I was eager to attend. As a bisexual guy myself, there was something enticing about seeing what sort of experience Rogers could translate through his works. I wasn’t sure how I would pull it off, however, until my boss came into my office one day and dropped a prepaid ticket to the opening onto my desk with a smile and a wink. And as such, the deal was sealed. 

The exhibition spanned several rooms, interconnected by open doorways, and included a range of mediums. Glass cases filled with sculptures. Canvases hung on the walls. Picture frames holding large sheets of paper filled with charcoal. 

I entered the exhibition amongst throngs of others in attendance who were not on the VIP list, and was barely able to enjoy the reprieve from the muggy DC air when my breath felt ripped out of my chest. Against the pristine white walls, Rogers’ works looked jarring. Colorful and gritty in equal measure. Raw in a way I wish I could recreate with words, and made me feel inadequate in my own humble artistry. 

Looking to my left, my legs carry me to the first canvas I see, eager to hide my shock with immersion. I am filled with curiosity and apprehension, wholly unprepared for what emotions these rooms might hold, and ready to freefall into this moment. 

So much of the world puts Captain America under a microscope, and it seems that here, Steve Rogers is begging to be seen instead. I feel compelled to follow that wish. I feel compelled to lose myself in each carefully placed brushstroke and pencil line. To find what parts of myself I might be able to see in these very personal pieces, because that is the thrill of a true, emotional artist. Seeing yourself, even when what you are looking at seems larger than life.

The piece before me felt innocent at first. A little boy on his knees, legs splayed out as he brushes the hair back from a doll’s forehead. It was sweet. Kind. Until you looked further and saw the sheer pain that embraced every fiber of the canvas the scene was depicted on. There were tears on the little boy’s face. Red, hectic spots high on his cheekbones, as if he’d been crying for quite some time. As I looked closer, I realized he is not in a house, but rather a store. Other toys filled the background, brightly colored despite the overall dullness of the piece. My eyes flicked to the piece next to it-- a seeming continuation as the shoes of the little boy were shown to be leaving off the side of the canvas. The doll laid lonesome on the ground. Left behind, but clearly so wanted.

It felt simple, but it hurt so bad, and I looked back at the first piece. The little boy had blond hair and a sharp nose. I saw the resemblance then. I saw Rogers in the jut, then dip of the little boy’s cheekbones. With an ache in my chest, I wished to reach through the painting and pick up the doll. Hand it to the little boy and tell him that he can have it. The ache was replaced with a distinct rage; little boys, queer or not, deserve soft things.

The next piece felt lighter-- almost silly. A slightly older Rogers laid upside down on a bed, cross eyed as he stared at his sketchbook, which was visible to the audience. On the page, there was a man, clearly naked. Rogers was sporting a rather massive blush that seemed to span down to his chest, and I found myself laughing at the relatability. It felt oddly close to home. The adolescent curiosity and shame shown so plainly to the audience. We’d all been there at some point, and it was nice to know that he had, too.

I moved through the rest of the first room at a slow, absorbent rate. It all seemed to focus on his adolescence. Growing pains and distinct fear. A piece of Rogers as a teenager, sitting in a bathtub with his face hidden in his knees and his hands covering his ears stood out to me especially. There wasn’t anything so explicitly queer about that piece compared to some of the others, but my stomach curled as I lost myself in the harsh lines of charcoal spanning the page. I knew that feeling. That helplessness. That fear. Wanting to drown out the thoughts that felt so wrong. So different. So dirty.

I wish I could tell myself that I wasn’t wrong. That I wasn’t dirty. I wonder if Rogers ever wishes that as well.

“The next room hits even harder,” someone said. I turned to see another journalist sporting his own notepad and pen, looking distinctly tight around the eyes. I imagine I must have looked similar, and we both glanced at the bathtub piece again. Clearly, it spoke volumes to many.

“Yeah?” I said, clearing my throat.

“Yeah, see for yourself,” the guy said. We hovered for another moment near each other, before I swiftly moved on. In an exhibit teeming with vulnerability, I wasn’t very eager to be seen for very long.

As it stood, the guy was right. Walking through the gaping entryway to the next room, I immediately understood why the exhibit had an age limit. Though there was nothing truly explicit, there was still a sense of unrestrained candidacy of the intimacy depicted in these pieces. Naked figures wrapped around each other, their limbs and extremities fading into smudged, blurred lines, but faces-- warped with pleasure and anguish-- clear and distinct. Most of the figures were random as far as I could tell. Rogers wasn’t bluntly featured in any of them, except for a smaller piece near the corner of the room.

The painting was quieter than the rest of the room, and my lips parted as I drank it in. Though, after a moment, I felt compelled to look away. As if the moment was not mine to see. It was far too personal. Too beautifully private. 

It was two young men in a room, one splayed on the bed, arm braced behind his head. He was wearing a soft expression, lips curved up into a smirk that felt entirely fond. Gelled hair fell over his forehead, mussed from the sweat that seemed to shine on his face. He was nude amongst the sheets of the bed, lithe body stretched out and relaxed. On the other end of the bed, the other young man-- shirtless, and clearly less built-- was bent over a sketchbook, though his eyes were on his lover. Before I looked at the plaque, I knew who I was looking at, and the name of the piece was so simple, I smiled. 

Bucky and I Before the War, Brooklyn 1940

It was no secret now, the nature of Steve Rogers and Bucky Barnes’ relationship. But it was a secret then. One probably carefully and fearfully protected in hearts so eager to reach out and touch the other. It is not mine to heavily speculate about, but looking at this piece, I found myself hoping that they have found comfort in a time where they can let that love be seen.

At this point, I was nearing the end of the exhibit. There was only one room left, I realized with some sadness. Each piece had enthralled me so greatly that I hadn’t realized how far I had gotten. Turning to move on, however, my breath caught in my throat. 

Rogers and Barnes stood on the other end of the room, hand in hand as they looked at one of Rogers’ other works. Once more, I found myself compelled to avert my gaze. This felt private, too. Almost as private as the piece I had just looked at.

Barnes turned his head to whisper something in Rogers’ ear, and I watched as Rogers put a hand over his mouth to laugh. Reaching out, Barnes poked Rogers in the stomach, and Rogers doubled over a bit before reaching out to flick Barnes’ ear. I glanced back at the painting behind me. The two boys in Brooklyn, so shrouded by a society that yearned to silence them. 

I realized then, standing there, that it was them against the world. It always had been.

[movedtodykedvonte]

If you’re not busy how bout a headcanon for how the four lords would react to their s/o, a doctor/field medic, somehow healing them of their cadou parasites and returning them to their normal selves

If you can't afford medical treatment just get your doctor S/O to do a quick surgery. It's legal and fun!!

Here's a cut cause this bad boy is long

Alcina Dimitrescu

You two had discussed it and agreed that it needed to be done. The girls would be in constant danger from BSAA/Blue Umbrella if Alcina was still such a strong bio-weapon.

She had worries; would she be weaker? Would she need to worry about her blood disease again? How would she protect her daughters? You assured her that you two would figure it out, that you would never do this if you thought it would do more harm than good.

The girls protested, saying they could handle whatever was thrown at them but Alcina hushed them, explaining that it was for her sake as well. It was only so long until BSAA stopped letting her get away with literal murder, no matter how necessary.

You had explained the most likely and best outcome, that she'd be cured and all the effects reversed, that she'd need regular infusions of blood and may feel weaker. You tried to treat her like a regular patient, the coldness of being a medic, but the worry loomed over you.

It was a quick procedure, the cadou just as it had smoothly integrated with Alcina, had been slipped out, the changes almost just as quick.

Her skin became humanly pale, no longer a porcelain white, wrinkles showing the age she was when infected, her height dwindling. You didn't account for her to wake up as quick as she did and had to dive to catch her as she wobbled of the operating table, not yet used to her smaller size.

"A mirror" "Are you sure, Alcina? Maybe you should-" "I want a mirror now" She was demanding, but you understood how justified that was. You only had a small one for operating on you but it would have to do.

She pulled at her face, a look of disdain as she inspecting the face of a mortal woman instead of an immortal lord. Seeing this you came up behind her, wrapping your arms around her waist like you were never able to fully do before, and planted a kiss on her cheek, now noticing how warm it was compared to her previous form

"I look horrid" "You look beautiful" The comment drew a smile from her, but you could still sense the doubt in her.

She stayed in her room for a while, you being the only one allowed entrance to tend her: Infusions, getting her used to human food rather than humans for food. Alcina insisted she fully recovers before her girls saw her as to not incite panic.

It was tough on her to be distant with her girls, but tougher on them to not see her after such a harrowing surgery.

When the girls first saw her it was as if they were interacting with a valuable and fragile vase, none of them wanted to get close in fear of hurting her, but they desperately wanted to inspect their mother.

"I'm not made of paper, an embrace won't kill me." It was lovely seeing them perk up at their mother's usual sass and even more relieving when they practically dove into her arms, bombarding her with questions on how she felt.

There were many things to still discuss, but for now, everyone was happy.

Donna Beneviento

Donna surprisingly brought it up to you first. You were having tea having a calm conversation with Angie for once. The mood felt off for that alone but for the whole day it felt off, now you knew why.

She wanted a normal life with you, one free of the mold and her dependence on her dolls. It was all a crutch and she wanted to start to walk without it.

You asked if she was sure, the dolls, especially Angie, meant so much to her, you didn't want to do it unless she was positively certain

"We've made our mind up, Y/N. We want this." Angie's serious response and Donna's nod were a startling confirmation. You set a date and prepared the tools for the procedure

Before all of that, you set up a party for Donna and Angie, placing all the dolls for one last goodbye. "Surprise!" You pop out with all the dolls, you suspect she knew as the dolls came to life to yell as well but she was crying tears of joy either way.

She said goodbye to all the dolls individually, thanking them for being there for her as she shut down her cadou in each of them. Donna told you that Angie didn't want to go until she had to. You understood completely.

On the day of the procedure, you knelt down to Angie and hugged her. She was always a little bit of a pain to you and she found you a bit dull but in the end, you cared and you were going to miss her rambunctiousness. You spared yourself the tears of a verbal goodbye as you placed her on the operating table next to Donna, she feigned unconscious to mimic her sedated friend.

It was slow and grueling to remove the cadou carefully from her face and skull, you wanted to leave as little scarring as possible. Donna had just stopped wearing the veil and you had no desire to be the reason it came back on

The procedure was no less easy as every amount removed, you noticed Angie appearing even more lifeless.

When it was done, she woke up, her working eye blinking under the bright lights of your operating chambers. She did not address you but immediately turned to Angie. You had not an idea of how she knew she was lying next to her

"Angie?" There was no response and you could see the tears forming as she slowly reached for her best friend, caressing the inanimate face. You took her other hand and squeezed it, before lifting it to your lips and planting a kiss.

Recovering was less physical than mental. Occasionally she'd ask her dolls a question, you'd catch her staring sorrowfully at them as they stared back unblinking. It was even worse when you heard her call for Angie, knowing it was impossible for her to respond.

Sometimes you'd find her staring out the window, holding Angie as she took in the horizon.

"It's difficult... She was always there for me." She stared at Angie, brushing the veil from her face as the setting sun leaked in. You sat next to her, leaning in close so you could support Angie's slumped head... Donna smiled at the action. "But, I suppose there's a lot else for me too." Donna rested her head on your shoulder, now looking at the broad horizon before you both.

Salvatore Moreau

It hurt you like nothing else to see Salvatore live in constant pain and suffering. You had done wonders for the hurt of loneliness but physically he was still in agony.

He has insisted not to burden yourself with him and that he was used to it, but the more he assured you the less you actually felt comforted. It came to a head one day that all he was doing was vomiting. You were sure you saw red at some point

"Stop saying you're fine!" "I'm used to it, Y/N" "Well I'm not!" You were a medic, it had become an instinct to stop people from being in pain, and Moreau made it flare up.

He refused to be operated on, making up excuses or insisting it was not a big deal to him after all these years. Clearly, you could tell it was something else, something he wasn't telling you but he refused to let it slip. It became a strain on your relationship. It felt bad but you had to threaten to leave if he was not going to be honest. He owed you that.

You felt even worse when you found out. "I'm scared it would get worse!" You realized that the last time Moreau was likely on an operating table, it turned him into what he was now. It was beyond inconsiderate to try and force him through it again.

For a while, you dropped it, letting the waters calm... until another vomiting fit happened and you thought you might lose him.

Luckily you didn't and unluckily for Moreau he had to see you're tear-ridden face the whole time, unable to assure you he would be fine due to the wretching. A day later he agreed to let you try.

You were relieved but now it went on to how you were exactly going to do this. You were unsure if removing the cadou would be enough to rid him of the tumors or if you would be on that too, you had no intention to make things worse like he feared.

A while passed as you collected the tools and set up an area in the reservoir to operate, everytime you made progress Moreau strayed farther from the area.

You finally finished and Moreau was off lurking in the waters, much like a child hiding from getting a shot. "Are you ready?" "Yes." "Are you lying?" "Yes." You were happy he found humor in the situation but you needed confidence.

You practically held his hand the whole way to the table, both to keep him from escaping to the water and a half for comforting, his grip did not slip until you had fully sedated him.

The procedure was more difficult than ever expected, the tumors were gelatinous and blocked the way to his cadou. You had to be careful not to burst one as well as not to accidentally paralyze him due to the proximity to his spine. It was slow and meticulous but eventually, you got it all.

Nothing happened. He laid unconscious on the table, cadou thoroughly gone, you made sure... but nothing happened. Did you fail? Was there another one? You pondered the possibilities but quickly stood up as the tumors began to swell, becoming enflamed before one burst, an acidic substance barely missing you and melting part of the floor. As more popped you took cover as not to get burned.

The grotesque sounds of bursting meat slowly faded, becoming less frequent until they stopped, but you waited, ensuring you did not accidentally get splashed by a straggler.

"Y/N?" The sound of your name from a familiar deep but the somehow less nauseous voice made you peer from around your cover, a man all too foreign and all too familiar sat dazed-looking on the table.

"Salvatore?" {Insert your own description of Moreau, I don't want to intrude on anyone's interpretation.} "Y/N!" He immediately tried to get off the table to come to you before you quickly stopped him, remnants of acid a very real danger. You covered a path and made your way to him, stopping at the edge of the table. "Did it work?"

Something about the question seemed laughable as you assumed the feeling would be completely different, but you still pulled a mirror close and let him marvel at a face he had long forgotten.

"Did I make it worse?" It was a snarky remark at his previous fears, probably a little insensitive but at the moment he smiled, suddenly pulling you into your first full kiss in your relationship. "Not at all."

Karl Heisenberg

You were helping him in the factory one day, decommissioning the more specialized soldats at the request of BSAA. You being less tech-oriented focused on the less mechanical soldiers while Karl took on the scrap heavy ones.

Having used some Cadou in them, you had to carefully remove that too, to ensure they would not resurrect after the metal was removed. It took no time for Karl to piece together who else that skill could be used on.

"Make space for me on your schedules, Y/N" He lit a cigar after the sentence, not explaining further. "Excuse me?" "You heard me, sweetheart." He ripped a core from another soldat before putting it on the belt to bring it towards you. You stared in disbelief.

"You want me to remove your cadou?" "Yep." "But I thought BSAA was." "I don't want those dick heads snooping in my body like I'm some labrat. You do it." The conversation was quick and honestly, it should have been expected.

Karl had joked with you before that you could take away his cadou. Just snip and a rip and it'd be done. You explained it wasn't that simple and he would chuckle out an agreement, but you could tell that the jokes had an air of seriousness around them. It had been his goal for a while to reverse what had been done to him

Picking a date was the biggest issue. Karl wanted to do it as soon as possible, get it out and be rid of it. You had to explain you needed time to prepare as the place was delicate and a risk. You knew it was out of excitement and anticipation.

When you finally made time, Karl was on the table before you had even put on gloves or disinfected it. "An eager beaver I see?" You tried to bring the humor Karl often did to scenarios like this, but you could see a sense of series on his face, even the glint of his glasses seemed steeled. "I want every trace of that bitch gone."

You nodded, pulling out the syringe to sedate him as you laid him down on the table. Removing his glasses you looked directly in his eyes, there was a trust in his that made you that much more determined. "You ready?" You asked as a medic protocol. "Just stick me doc." You rolled your eyes as he smirked before relishing in the slight scared look he gave the needle when you lifted it before him

The silence of it all unnerved you. Karl was always making wisecracks or jokes to alleviate the dreary mood of the factory. Having him laying silently before you, face still somehow serious while completely relaxed, made it all the more discomforting.

You worked diligently, careful to find all traces of the cadou and to remove them into a jar you had set aside. It was long but you did it with dutiful ease, Karl had waited so long for this and you must do it right

When it was all finished you took the jar, disgusted at the somehow living organism inside. How could she put this in someone she considered her child. Bitch, was too kind a word Karl used for her. You took the jar to a furnace, throwing it in and watching the thing wriggle frantically before burning to a crisp.

Coming back to the table you found Karl stirring awake, groggily holding himself up on his forearms. "So, how'd it go?" "You tell me?"

Karl looked around the room, his hammer resting in the corner. Focusing on it he waited for the item to float toward him, yet it remained still. After a minute of nothing he stopped, a slow chuckle emerging from him, melding into a proud laugh.

"Well, I'll be damned, Y/N. You've outdone yourself." He began patting himself in search of a cigar. You pulled one from the side table and offered it, snatching it away before he could get a grasp on it. "No smoking until you're fully healed."

He shook his head, chuckling a little more before sitting up and pulling you close. Tilting your head up he locked your lips together. Pulling apart he smiled, "Whatever you say, doc."

I completely forgot that Moreau was a doctor and honestly I should've added something about medical knowledge but its super late and I have a job interview to get up for.

[sapphosthoughtsandwritings]

if it’s not too much to ask please please please could you write more avengers x teen!reader? I adore the one with fear of the dark and was wondering if you could do something similar? Like either the avengers comforting the reader or just something with lots of hugs and cuddles? Thank you!! <3

Stage Fright - Avengers x anxious!teen!Reader

Summary: When your presentation for class goes terribly wrong, your team mates come to rescue you and take you home.

Warnings: depictions of anxiety, panic attack, a few cuss words

Type: angst, ends with fluff

Word Count: ~2.5k

A/N: MY FIRST REQUEST, very exciting!! I am so so glad you liked my work, and I hope you enjoy this one as well!! <3 I also have quite a few more ideas for teen!Reader fics, so this definitely won't be the last piece like this!

(Y/l/n) = your last name

(f/d) = favorite drink

You’d been dreading this day for weeks now. Clutching the straps of your backpack, you let out a deep sigh, walking up to the doors of your school. You didn’t like school to begin with, but the building seemed much more intimidating today. Making your way through the halls, you were grateful that you got to school early, you hated pushing through crowds of people.

“Hey, hey (Y/n)!”, a voice called from down the hall. You recognized it almost immediately. “Hi Peter, what’s up?”. You were happy to see him, maybe talking out your nervousness would help. “Oh, you know, just the same old stuff. Sure am tired though”. “Well, if you don’t sleep then you will be tired”. “Like you’re one to talk (Y/l/n)”. You only rolled your eyes and stuck out your tongue at him, evoking a chuckle from him. “How about you? How are you doing?”. “Ugh, not great. I have to present that project today. Not particularly looking forward to it”, you huffed, looking down to the ground as your anxiety increased at the thought of presenting alone. “Hey, I’m sure you’ll do great. Most people don’t pay attention to presentations anyways”, he assured you. You popped your knuckles, still feeling just as nervous. You knew he was right, but that didn’t stop the fear surging through you. “Yeah, I know. I just don’t want to do it. Maybe if I wait long enough, there won’t be any class time left for me to present”, that was your hope, and your only plan to get out of this without panicking in front of the whole class. “Maybe, well regardless, I hope it goes well”, he offered you a sincere smile. “Yeah, I hope so too”. “Well, I should probably head to class, see you at lunch!”. “Right back at ya, Parker”, you waved gently to him as he disappeared down a hallway.

You made your way to your first class, deciding to read a bit before class started. Nothing you did eased the gnawing anxiety in the back of your mind though. Your first two classes were easy enough, but it was hard to focus, your mind racing with intrusive thoughts. ‘What if my voice gives out? What happens if I start crying in front of everyone? God, the whole school will hear about it. Everyone will stare at me, whisper about me every time I pass by them. I can’t do this, I just can’t’. By your third class, you’d bitten your nails down to blood, your lips suffering the same fate, cracked and split open. You almost considered skipping, but you’d worked hard on this project, you couldn’t let that go to waste. So, taking your seat in the back of the class, you tried breathing techniques, anything to help calm your senses. Your leg bounced so much, you swore the floor would give out under your foot.

The teacher turned out the lights, letting people present their projects voluntarily. You calmed the tiniest bit. If someone randomly kept volunteering to present, the class time was sure to run out before you even got the chance to stand up. Throughout the class, you were on edge, chanting silent prayers in your head. You weren’t very fortunate though, as everyone presented quickly, making it apparent that you were going to have to present no matter what. “Alright, who hasn’t gone up yet?”, your teacher called out, looking at her grading sheet. ‘Oh my god, please don’t see my name. Please tell me I don’t exist. Let me just disappear. I can’t do this’. “Oh! (Y/n) still hasn’t presented, come on over and I’ll pull up your project”, your teacher chirped.

Your heart pounded painfully hard in your chest, slowly standing up on jelly legs, keeping your gaze down as you walked to the whiteboard. You couldn’t possibly do this. You were going to die. Every mission you’d ever gone on seemed so miniscule in this moment, as you looked out to your peers. It was too dark to see most of their faces, which only made your situation worse. Your teacher pulled up the project on the projector, gesturing to you to start presenting, as she clicked her pen, ready to write down every mistake you made.

Letting out a jittery breath, you clasped your sweaty hands together and began talking. You were shaking so badly, it was like an earthquake had erupted inside of your body. You could feel the tears threatening to spill past your eyes, leaving a hard pain in your throat. Your chest hurt, and your breathing was becoming more erratic. But you had to finish, you had to get this over with. Just as you were on one of the last slides, a voice called from somewhere in the class, “Hey, pipsqueak! Speak up, would ya? We can’t hear you back here!”. The comment elicited a few snickers, which your teacher hushed quietly, but the damage was already done. The room was suddenly shrinking around you, as your chest tightened even further. You bit your lip, trying your best to compose yourself, attempting to push down your anxiety, but it only pushed back up more violently. “(Y/n)? You still have a few slides left”, your teacher said, but you didn’t hear her. Instead, your fight or flight instincts took over, and you raced out of the classroom, tears now breaking free, streaming down your face. You headed to the nearest bathroom, locking yourself in a stall, your whole world crumbling beneath you.

Leaning against the door, you slid down, breath caught in your throat, fighting to get out, but to no avail. Instinctively, you brought your knees up to your chest, clutching at the seams of your pants, letting out choked sobs and broken coughs. There was only one thing you could think of that might help you, and that was your teammates. You pulled your phone out of your pocket, continuing to shake violently, as you clicked the emergency contacts, thumb pressed to the first person, which just so happened to be Bucky. You lifted the phone to your ear, barely hearing the ring, despite your call volume being all the way up.

Bucky saw your name pop up on his phone, panic surging through him. You never called, it made you too anxious. He answered instantly, “(Y/n)? (Y/n), sweetheart, are you okay?”. His sudden panic mixed with your name caused both Steve and Sam to stand by him, all of them mentally preparing for an emergency. You wanted to reply, but all that came out was a squeak, as your fist collided with the tiled floor, your oxygen levels becoming more scarce by the second. Bucky put his phone on speaker, letting all three of them talk to you. “(Y/n), doll, you gotta breathe okay? Through your nose, count on your fingers”, Bucky stated, trying to keep his voice steady for you. “Yep, deep breaths (Y/n), you’ve got this. You’re gonna be okay”, Steve reassured you. After about 10 minutes of the three of them gently coaxing you out of your panic attack, you calmed slightly, leaving you crying quietly.

“We’re almost back at the compound, we’ll come and pick you up in about 20 minutes, okay?”, Steve said, giving no room for protests, although at this point you weren’t going to object. You wanted to go home. “Okay, I guess I should get back to class then”, you murmured, realizing that you’d probably been gone for over 15 minutes now. It was weird no one came to look for you, but you weren’t complaining. “If you aren’t ready to go back kid, that’s fine. We can stay on the call as long as you need”, Sam mentioned, his voice sounded beyond concerned. You had a bad habit of not taking care of yourself, especially in times of crisis. “No, I’ll be fine, gotta go back to get my stuff anyways”, you were dreading going back. The whole class would be focused on you for sure, not to mention the faux sympathy from your teacher, something that would surely cause another flood of tears. You just wanted to go unnoticed, for everyone to ignore your presence. “Alright, if you’re sure”. “I’m sure, I’ll see you guys soon”, you weren’t sure, but you had to convince them, you knew too well that they’d cause a scene at the school if things got worse. “Okay, stay safe sweetheart, we’ll be there as soon as possible”, Steve stated, before Bucky reluctantly hung up the phone.

Letting out a deep sigh, you pushed yourself up, groaning slightly as you forced your stiff body to move. You stepped out of the stall, silently thanking the universe for not letting anyone walk in during your breakdown. You looked to one of the mirrors, finding a disheveled figure staring back at you. You grabbed a paper towel, dampening it in the sink, and gently washing the dried tears off your face. You fixed your clothing and washed your hands, before making the godawful trip back to class. There was only 5 minutes left for the class, but that was more than enough time for shit to go wrong. You stood outside the door for a minute, taking a moment to compose yourself.

Turning the handle slowly, you eased your way past the door, the lights now on. Just as you expected, all eyes turned on you, but most turned away quickly, looking back to their friend or their phone. That lifted your nervousness a bit, as you started to head back to your desk, but your teacher had other plans, as she cleared her throat, motioning for you to go and talk to her. You cussed quietly to yourself, could this day get any worse? You dragged your feet over to her desk, biting your now scabbed lip. “So, your project was very good, therefore, I’m going to give you a 90, but I have to dock 10 points for your presentation”, she spoke quietly and sternly. Your face grew hot with her words, tears swelling in your eyes again. She was taking points off for something that you couldn’t control? It pissed you off to say the least. You only looked away from her desk, nodding slightly, knowing better than to open your mouth. “Alright then, you can go and pack up your things”. You walked quickly back to your desk, putting the few things you had taken out back into your backpack, before the bell rang for lunch. Dashing out of the class, you headed straight for the front of the school, more than ready for the day to be over. You’d email your 4th period teacher later on what work you missed out on. On your way, you made sure to text Peter, letting him know everything that happened, and that you wouldn’t be there for lunch.

You only had to wait for a few minutes, as Sam walked through the doors, spotting you quickly and walking over to you. “You alright kid?”. “Yeah, I’ll be fine, jus’ want this day to be done already”. He nodded, following you to the front office, signing everything to excuse you for the day. He kept a close eye on you the whole time, a protective hand placed on your shoulder. Stepping out of the building, he led you to the car where Bucky and Steve awaited. You got into the back seat, Sam sitting in the seat next to you.

“Hey doll, you feeling alright?”, Bucky quizzed, angling his body to look at you. “Yeah, ‘m glad you guys offered to pick me up though. Don’t really think I could’ve lasted another class”, you fidgeted with your hands, you knew your nerves wouldn’t calm for a while, but at least it was manageable now. “We’re always here for you, kid, no matter what”, Sam assured you, patting your shoulder softly. “Mhm, you can always come to us, even if we’re on a mission. Our job can always wait, your well being is more important than anything”, Steve added, looking briefly to you in the rearview mirror. “Thank you for that, you guys are the best”, you smiled bashfully. “No need to thank us, jus’ doing what’s right”, Bucky stated. “So, whatcha feel like doing when we get back?”, Sam asked. You thought for a moment, doing anything social sounded horrible at the moment, and the weighted blanket in your room was calling your name. “How ‘bout a pizza and movie night?”, you inquired, knowing they’d all like the idea, hell the whole team would probably join in. “Sounds good to me”, Steve mused, he always liked time for the team to bond. “Me too”. “Me as well, I’m starving dude”, Sam quipped, causing all of you to chuckle.

It didn’t take long to get back to the tower, all of you heading inside, you going to your room to set your stuff down and to change into something more comfy. After changing, you grabbed your weighted blanket, wrapping it around you, heading back down to the common room. Word must’ve spread fast, cause the whole team was gathered there, everyone sitting in a designated spot, except for Tony, who was currently ordering pizza over the phone. “Hey, there they are, rough day at school?”, Natasha asked, giving you a warm smile. “Yeah, not the greatest”, you huffed out a small laugh. “Well, in that case, you get to choose the first movie draga”, Pietro looked up at you from his spot on the floor. You hummed in response, before placing your decision on one of your favorite comfort movies. Clint started to look it up on the various streaming services, finding it almost instantly. “This one, right?”. You nodded happily, making your way over to sit between Steve and Wanda. “Hey, kiddo, you want a drink? And I’m guessing you want some extra garlic breadsticks too, right?”, Tony asked, holding his phone away from his mouth slightly. “Uhh, I’ll have a (f/d), and duh, of course I want garlic breadsticks”. “Yeah, what type of question is that?”, Pietro chimed in. Tony scoffed at him, rolling his eyes, but continued placing the order.

Wanda opened her arms next to you, allowing you to curl into her side as her arms wrapped softly around you. You stretched your legs out, Steve placed them on his lap, gently rubbing his thumb over your calf. Your nerves were finally winding down, as Clint pressed play on the movie. Wanda kept an arm wrapped around your back, her other hand resting gently on the side of your head, making sure to keep you close. The pizza arrived shortly after the movie had started, and you grabbed as much food as you wanted. You deserved it after the day you had. After the first movie finished, and the team voted on a new movie to watch, you felt yourself begin to drift off. You couldn’t have imagined a more perfect setting, comfort and warmth surrounding you. You didn’t make it far into the second movie before you fell asleep, listening to the sound of Wanda’s heart beating, the events from earlier that day flooding away, leaving you to sleep peacefully, knowing that you were safe and sound.